Loving Lily Lavender (4 page)

“You know, Lucas, I think you need a hug.” As we embraced, he
squeezed me tightly as if it was just what he needed. As we parted, he leaned
down and pressed his lips to mine once more, but this kiss was different. Not
the hot, passionate kind as before, but something sweeter, truer.

“It’s three a.m. I should probably be taking you home now,” he
remarked, slowly releasing me.

“Yes, I guess you’re right,” I reluctantly agreed, truly sorry to
see the night come to an end.

“Wow, this is your home?” he asked as he pulled into my driveway.

“Yes. This is the house my grandfather built for my grandmother.
My father and mother raised me here, and someday I’ll raise my family here as
well.”

“It’s remarkable. I love Victorian houses. They remind me a
little bit of home.” He drove to the back of the house and stopped at the end
of the drive. “Is that a rose garden?”

“Oh yes, my mother loves roses. She planted those rose bushes
twenty years ago. I try to keep the garden up, but I’m not as good at it as she
is. ”

“They’re lovely. My mum also loves roses. So, does your mum live
here with you then?”

I almost laughed at his use of the word ‘mum’. It isn’t something
I could picture myself calling my mom, but Lucas was British after all. “No.
She became very ill and had to go into a nursing home not even six months ago.
A nurse and I took care of her as long as we could, but eventually the
Alzheimer’s disease progressed until it was too difficult to care for her here.
It was a painful decision, but I know it was for the best. My father willed the
house to me after he died. My mom was already sick, and he wanted to make sure
it stayed in the family.”

“I’m sorry to hear that about your mum.”

I lowered my head. “Thank you.” The separation from her was still
very painful to think about. The house felt so empty without her.

After a brief silence, I realized it was time for me to get out
of the car, and reached for the handle. Lucas’s hand shot out to stop me.
“Lily, would you like to have dinner with me tonight?”

Wow, that was unexpected. He wants to see me again. This is
too good to be true,
I thought
.
“Umm, yes I would love to.” Suddenly
I had another idea. “Would you like to come here, and I’ll cook for you?”

“Are you sure you don’t mind?”

“Of course not, I would love to. I’ll see you around seven?”

“Absobloodylootely,” he agreed, smiling.

“Um, what?”

“Oh sorry, we say that in London. It means ‘Yes!’” He laughed.

I laughed too. “I like it. I’ll remember that one.” I quickly
leaned over and gave him a peck on the cheek and got out of the car. I felt his
gaze on me the entire time as I fumbled with the keys and finally entered the
house. Once inside I heard his car crank and watched through the front door
window as his car pulled away.

“Ah,” I sighed. “What a great evening,” I said out loud as I
tossed my keys on the kitchen counter, tucking a strand of irritating hair
behind my ear. “He wasn’t even upset that I wouldn’t have sex with him and even
asked to see me again. This is crazy, Lily.” I mock laughed. “He’s a famous
actor and you’re a nobody. He’ll be leaving in less than two weeks and you’re
gonna be heart broken. Hey, wait a minute! I’m a good catch too! Maybe he’ll
fall so in love with me that he won’t leave at all.” Then I laughed in spite of
myself, and raced up the stairs to write every detail in my journal.

Slowly, as my mind became alert and memories from the previous
evening flooded my consciousness, I turned to glance at the clock and gasped.
Eleven o’clock! I’d slept the whole morning away and had tons to do before my
date with Lucas.

I jumped out of bed and sprinted for the bathroom. When I exited,
some minutes later, I grabbed my comfy jeans lying across the chair in the
corner of my room and pulled on my favorite green Yoda t-shirt. I pulled my
hair up into a ponytail and headed downstairs for a highly anticipated cup of
coffee.
That first sip is the kind of things dreams are made of.

I checked my phone, three missed calls from Meagan.
No
surprise there.
There was
no need to check them since I already knew
what she wanted.

I turned on my computer and checked my e-mails. Two messages were
from Meagan along with two messages from my current client, Aaron Parker. She
was due to marry Josh Helms the next month and kept changing her mind on the
food for the reception. The first time it was because she wanted more cheese
rolls. The second was because she found out her mother-in-law was allergic to
cheese—if all else fails, please the mother-in-law.

I absolutely love being a wedding planner, although initially my
plans were altogether different. After my first year at UNC State, I started to
have the nagging suspicion that I was headed in the wrong direction, like
perhaps psychology wasn’t the best fit for me after all. So, after some serious
re-evaluation, I realized that what I really wanted to do from the time I was a
young girl was to organize and plan weddings. As a result, I followed my heart
and changed course, but continued college for another year, feeling it would
only further my future goals.

After leaving college, I worked for three years at a successful
shipping company called Blume’s Shipping and Supply Co.

At first I felt like Russ, the owner, only hired me for my looks,
but I soon proved myself worthy and, after only two short months, was promoted
to Office Manager. That job paid the bills while I struggled to build my
business.

A full year has passed since my wedding planning business went full
time.

I jumped as the phone rang my favorite
Star Wars
theme
beside me. I glanced down at the phone…..Meagan again. I figured if I didn’t
answer it she’d probably call the police.

“Hey, Meg, what’s up?”

“What do you mean—what’s up? I’ve been trying to reach you all
morning, and now it’s almost noon! What happened last night? Are you all right?
Did he kiss you? Do you know who he is?”

Blah blah blah
.

Just then I heard the doorbell ring. “Oh, Meg, I’m gonna have to
call you back. Someone’s at the door.” I heard her protesting as I snapped the
phone closed and shoved it in my back pocket.

As I opened the door, I was enraptured at the sight of a man’s
legs, the only visible part, under a sea of the most beautiful roses I’d ever
seen. Yellow, red, white, orange, and pink all perfectly pieced together to
make the most remarkable arrangement.

“Are you Lilianna?” he asked, peering around the flowers.

“Yes I am.” 

“Then these are for you. Can you sign this clipboard under my arm
please?”

“Yes, of course.” I reached under his arm, retrieved the
paperwork, signed it, and returned it back to him, shoving it back under his
thick arm.

“Thank you.” He handed me the bouquet, and I stumbled under the
weight of it. “Have a blessed day!” I managed to yell out to him.

Once inside, I set the arrangement on the center of my dining
room table and jerked out the card, fumbling to get it open as fast as I could.

It simply read . . .

         I’m looking forward to tonight.

         ~ Lucas

It’s amazing how reading those simple words made my heart do
somersaults. I’ve had flowers delivered to me before, but somehow it felt
different. Just a few simple words, and yet, in them held a hint of a promise
of something to come, perhaps something wonderful. I hoped I wasn’t being
influenced by his fame. I hated the idea that I would think higher of someone
just because of their success. But the truth is I was thrilled at the idea of
seeing him again.

I believe he liked me too. After all, he said I was the most
beautiful girl he’d ever met. I mean I’ve been called beautiful before. The
name they called me in school was Miss America. It could’ve been worse, I
realize, but I’d like to believe I put more emphasis on the inside rather than
the outside. Still, for Lucas to say that to me was a bit overwhelming
considering who he was. I hope he was being honest. He seemed sincere. Though,
up to that point I hadn’t developed a clear-cut feeling about his character.

But what I
had
noticed is, besides the obvious
gorgeousness, he was bright, talented, humble, a good dancer, a great kisser,
and a bit insecure. All in all, I’d say not a bad package—not too bad at all.

I was constructively busy the rest of the day. First, I made a
grocery list and went shopping. When I returned home, I put the chicken in the
fridge to marinade and put the rest of the groceries away. Next, I started on
the house cleaning. I began with the bathrooms, not sure which one he would
use. I straightened the den, dusted all the furniture, cleaned the kitchen,
swept and mopped the floors, vacuumed the rugs, and finally ended with
decorating the dining room table. I brought out my most elegant tablecloth, my
grandmother’s china, linen napkins, silver utensils, and finished with crystal
goblets. I sighed in contentment; the table was breathtaking.

I went into my mother’s rose garden and cut some roses, trying to
match the colors of the ones the messenger brought. I arranged them in a tall
glass vase and set them in the middle of the coffee table in the den. Hmm, I
observed, not as beautiful as the ones sent by Lucas, but lovely nonetheless.

Once I was finished with the housework, I looked around and
admired how elegant everything looked, hoping it made a good impression.

After my mother went into the nursing home, I redecorated a lot
of the house. I love my mother, but her style is very old fashioned. The style
I love most is romantic chic with splashes of old England.

By the time I finished it was after five, so I headed upstairs to
my bedroom. I tidied up the room, knowing Lucas wouldn’t see it but wanting it
to match the rest of the house, then, without further hesitation, jumped in the
shower.

When I emerged from the bathroom, some twenty minutes later, I
wasn’t all that surprised to see Meagan sitting on my bed waiting for me.

“So, were you ever going to call me back?” She was trying hard to
act aggravated, but I wasn’t totally convinced.

“Well, eventually.” I shrugged.

“So, now will you tell me everything? And leave nothing out.”

“You mean you didn’t sneak a peek at my journal this time?”

She rolled her eyes at me.

“Actually, there’s not much to tell. We went back to his place,
as you know. By the way, the apartment he’s staying in is very nice, very
expensive. And we made out a little, and yes I was able to stop, though it
wasn’t easy. I told him my feelings on sex before marriage, and he was very
sweet about it. He even said he admired me. We spent the rest of the time
talking, and then he brought me home. He asked me out for tonight, and instead
I offered to make dinner here. He’ll be here at seven so you can’t stay long.”

“Is he a good kisser?”

“Oh-my-God, yes.”
I was almost breathless at the very memory.

She reached across the bed and pinched me. I could even feel the
sting through the towel. “Oww!” I yelled, rubbing myself. “I think I’m changing
my mind about the whole pinching thing. I think I’d rather you slap me.”

“No way. Pinching is much more fun. Your facial expressions are
hilarious.”

“I’m gonna have black and blue marks all over my body,” I
complained.

“Oh stop your whining. No one’s gonna see them anyway,” she
retorted. “I saw the beautiful flowers he sent you. You must’ve made a good
impression. Which reminds me,” her voice turned a little cold as she continued,
“you also made quite an impression on Randall. You were all he talked about
until you left with Lucas. He thought you were very beautiful. He wanted to
know if you were seeing anyone, how long I’ve known you, what kind of work you
do, and if your eyes were really that green or did you wear contacts. I was
starting to get annoyed. But after you left he seemed to get interested in me.
He even kissed me when he walked me to my car.”

“Really? Was it good?” I was excited for her. She’d been talking
about the guy, off and on, for the last two years.

“Yes, better than I imagined. He mentioned that maybe we could
double date with you guys sometime. So do you think we could do that?”

“I don’t know. Let’s just see how tonight goes first. By the way,
you knew who he was?”

“Yeah, Randall told me while we were dancing. Can you believe it?
You’re going out with the number one Hollywood “it” guy.”

“It’s just dinner, Meagan, but I have to admit it’s a little
exciting. I mean I didn’t even recognize him.”

“I know, me either. He looks so different than he did in the
movie. I think it’s all that stubble. Did it hurt when he kissed you?”

“Not enough to stop.” I laughed. “But I have to stop jawwin’ with
you, or I’m not gonna be ready in time.”

“I’ll help you.”

Meagan stayed and helped me get ready, picking out something more
appropriate for me to wear this time. I went with a pair of fitted khaki jeans
and a deep-blue pullover blouse I’d bought that week. She helped me use the
straightener on my natural wavy locks to create a different look.
Personally,
I loved my blonde curls, but oh well.
I kept my makeup light and only added
small, gold earrings for jewelry.

“Oh, I made peaches and cream shortcake for dessert tonight. Do
you think that’s a good choice?” I asked as I pulled the chicken from the
fridge.

“You’re kidding me. Save me some,” she whined. “What are you
cooking for supper?”

“Well, let’s see, marinated chicken breast in Paula Dean’s
special marinade, sautéed mushrooms and vegetables, dinner rolls, and a salad.
Oops, I hope he’s not a vegetarian. I forgot to ask.”