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Authors: Lucy Kevin

Tags: #General Fiction

The Wedding Dance (3 page)

BOOK: The Wedding Dance
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He had to know, “What is it you want out of life?”

“That’s a serious question for two people who barely know one another.”

“I’ve already suggested trying to get to know you better over dinner, remember?”

For a moment or two, it didn’t seem like Phoebe would answer. Finally, she shrugged. “What does anyone want? To be happy. To enjoy my life and love what I’m doing.”

“From what I’ve seen, you do love your job, don’t you?”

She nodded. “It’s good. I’ve always liked flowers, and working at the chalet, I get to do more than just produce endless bouquets for guys trying to make up for missing an anniversary or something else they did wrong.”

He felt as if a window into Phoebe’s heart had just been flung open. “Do you really think that’s the only reason people give each other flowers?” he asked softly.

“It’s the usual one.”

“I’ve never given anyone flowers as an apology,” he told her. “Have you ever received them as one?”

She shook her head. “I’ve never gotten flowers from anyone. I guess people think I’ve already got enough with my job.”

That seemed sad to Patrick. If any woman deserved flowers, if any woman would appreciate them, it was Phoebe. And she of all people ought to see that kind of gesture as more than just a way to make up for mistakes.

“What does it matter, anyway?” she asked, breaking the sudden silence. “Like I said, all I want is to be happy, and I am. I have friends and a career I love at the Rose Chalet. Why would I want to go complicating that?”

Patrick could think of all kinds of reasons, but he simply said, “Maybe one day you’ll want more than that.”

“Maybe.” But it was obvious from the way Phoebe said it that she didn’t believe it, which was quickly confirmed when she said, “Don’t hold your breath.”

Common sense told him that he should leave it there, but there were times when common sense had to take a back seat to feelings.

“I’m never going to talk you around to the joys of romance, am I?”

She shook her head firmly. “I think that’s one area where we’re just going to have to agree to disagree.”

“Well, I think we’ve certainly got the disagreeing part down.”

She laughed at his assessment. “I guess we have.”

“So how about if we go on disagreeing over dinner?”

Phoebe rolled her eyes. “You aren’t going to let it go, are you?”

“No,” he said, working up a smile for the beautiful woman in front of him, even though he was as serious as he’d ever been. “I’m not.” Although the truth was, one more
no
and he was going to have to at least let it go for the time being. “One dinner, Phoebe, as a thank you for your help today. What do you say?”

Patrick had always believed in the power of hard work and dedication, but that didn’t mean he discounted luck. On the contrary, it had smiled down on him many times in his life...but none better than the moment when Phoebe finally smiled and said, “Let’s eat.”

Chapter Three

“Are you sure I shouldn’t stop by my place to change first?” she asked. “I have mud on my shoes. Lots of mud.”

“I don’t think anyone will mind a little dirt,” Patrick replied, having just gotten off the phone with the restaurant to confirm their arrival in a few minutes. “Besides, you look great.”

Phoebe smiled, both at the compliment and the thought that, wherever they were going, it wasn’t so serious that they had to dress up for it. She loved dressing up, but at the same time she hated stuffy dates.

She knew she should be putting the maximum of distance between herself and Patrick. Especially given that from the moment she’d met him, crazy thoughts had been flitting through her usually practical brain, one after the other.

But she couldn’t deny that he was a gorgeous guy, with whom she had great chemistry. Most important of all, there was a built-in ending to things: as soon as he finished the house he’d be heading back to Chicago.

Which meant neither of them could possibly make the mistake of getting in too deep.

With those rationalizations well in place, she wondered, why not allow herself a little fun?

“So where are we going?” she asked.

Patrick grinned at her. “Don’t you like surprises?”

“I like
some
surprises,” Phoebe said. “To be honest, though, with most guys, the surprise is generally something horrible.”

“How horrible?” he asked.

“One guy collected antique dolls and they all sat on his shelves and stared at me. I couldn’t get out of there fast enough.”

Patrick laughed out loud. “You’ll be glad to hear I don’t have anything like that hidden away.”

“People always have
something
hidden away,” Phoebe found herself saying, even though she knew she was revealing far too much to a man she’d just vowed to keep things light and easy with. Which was exactly what she needed to do, starting now. “The same way you’re hiding the restaurant from me now,” she joked.

“I’ll tell you if you really want to know.”

“No,” she said, forcing herself to sit back and relax against the leather seat, “you’re right, surprises can be fun.” Although she couldn’t think of the last time any man had bothered to give her a good one.

As they drove through the city, she silently ran through the list of restaurants she knew. She’d done the first date thing so many times that by now she could tell a lot about a man by the kind of place he chose for the first date. Some went for the fanciest place they could afford, trying to impress her. A few others went for smaller places much closer to them and, in those cases, she always came prepared with enough cash to split the check.

They seemed to be heading for a spot out by the bay and Phoebe wondered if it was some new place that had sprung up. They parked near a small park with great views out over the bay, where a number of tables were set out for people to eat al fresco style.

“What is this?”

Patrick grinned, looking so utterly gorgeous that her heart actually skipped a beat for the first time ever.

“I heard about the Nomadic Caterer when I was planning my trip to San Francisco. It sounded like a great idea, a restaurant that moves to wherever the owner feels like putting it for the evening. I’ve wanted to try it since I arrived in San Francisco. I just needed the right person to go with.”

The right person to go with him to a restaurant that never stayed in one place for too long and was always moving on to the next, better, spot? Yes, that definitely sounded like her. She was glad Patrick seemed to see it too.

It also explained why he wasn’t too bothered by the mud on her shoes. Dining out in the open like this, there was only so much mud you could avoid.

The outdoor restaurant looked almost magical, having decked the space around it with lights and arranged tables for the best possible sight of the bridge.

“I have got to tell my friend Julie about this,” Phoebe said as they went over to take their reserved seats. “It’s just the kind of thing she’d love.”

Patrick raised an eyebrow. “The question is whether it’s the kind of thing you love.”

“I think I can probably put up with it for the evening,” she said, smiling at him.

They took a moment or two to order, Phoebe starting with a salad and Patrick choosing the soup. The young man hurried off with their first course orders, while Phoebe looked around at the spot the nomadic caterer had chosen to open up in that night.

There were flower beds not far from the tables, blue periwinkles and red poppies. “Early friendship and pleasure,” Phoebe murmured aloud.

Patrick gave her a questioning look. “What was that about friendship and pleasure?”

“Oh, it’s just ‘language of flowers’ stuff.” Phoebe glanced away briefly when she saw how intent Patrick’s gaze on her was. “It goes with the territory, when you’re a florist. I suppose it’s a bit old fashioned now, but it’s nice to be able to put together a bouquet now and again that has more to it than just a few pretty colors shoved together.”

“Somehow, I doubt that you have ever ‘shoved together’ an arrangement,” Patrick said as their first course quickly arrived. “If all flowers have meanings, does that mean that you match people to their flowers when you prepare the bouquets for their weddings?”

“Like an undertaker sizing them up for a coffin,” Phoebe said without thinking. But that was kind of what it
was
like, wasn’t it? “Honestly though, most of the time it’s just the flowers they like best. Mostly roses and orchids, although I do try to slip a few other things in here and there to make it unique.”

“What kind of flower would you use to sum yourself up?”

She was surprised by the depth of his question. “You realize I could just make up anything here, right? Remember that I’ve just spent the day explaining flowers to you.”

“True.” He leaned forward slightly. “I’m willing to risk it.”

Phoebe thought for a moment or two. If they were playing that game, what should she say? The orchid, for beauty and refinement? That would probably make Patrick smile, and he’d already proved several times that evening that he had a gorgeous smile. Maybe one of the roses?

But, for some reason, she couldn’t give him the off-hand, meaningless answer.

“Probably the pasque flower.” It was the symbol sent to show that a lover had no claim on her. Yes, perfect.

When Patrick looked blank for a moment or two, Phoebe winced theatrically before saying, “Are you sure you aren’t adopted?”

“RJ wonders that occasionally too,” he said, and then, “Tell me about the flower.”

Why hadn’t she just given him the playful answer? It was what she normally did with men, after all.

Unfortunately, it seemed Patrick wasn’t like any other man she’d been with.

“It blooms in spring and is a lovely light purple color.” But that wasn’t really what he was asking, was it? “Some people,” she continued softly, “think it symbolizes freedom.”

Fortunately, just then, the waiter came back to clear their plates and take the rest of their order. Afterward, she was careful to steer the conversation clear of anything that had to do with her. Men, in her experience, loved to talk about themselves.

“So, how long does it usually take to build a home?”

“It can take months,” Patrick said, “but I’m not actually there for most of it. I take a few weeks to draw up the plans and then I fly in to deal with any big issues the contractors have.”

“So you drift from place to place, always on the road, never settling down?”

Phoebe quite liked that image. Particularly since it meant whatever brief fling she and Patrick were going to have wouldn’t hurt either of them. They’d both just move on naturally, and that would be that.

“I suppose so,” he said, “though I like to think of it as doing what I can to help out as many couples as possible with their dream homes. Plus, I always know my family will be there for me whenever I need to be brought back down to earth. They’ve always provided me a sense of rootedness.”

“You know,” she said as their steaks arrived and they dug into the perfectly prepared meat, “this is the first dinner date in a long time that I’ve actually enjoyed.”

“It’s been pretty fun from this side of the table too,” he said, with a look that made it clear exactly how much fun it had been.

She could practically feel his appreciation brushing across her skin. Still, she wanted to take the time to enjoy the rest of the date, rather than rushing Patrick home with her. There would be time enough for that. One of the best things about these brief flings was that they were
intense.

“You know, Patrick, there’s one thing I don’t get.”

“What’s that?” he asked

“Well, you build homes for couples, and you’re obviously deeply into marriage, commitment, and the rest of it. Yet you’re here with me, rather than at home with a wife. Why hasn’t some lucky girl snapped you up?”

Patrick grinned. “Lucky, huh?”

Phoebe barely held back a snort of laughter. “Now you’re fishing for compliments. And avoiding the question. Come on, if you’re so into the joys of marriage, why isn’t there a wedding ring on your finger already?”

“Maybe I just haven’t met the right girl yet.” Patrick shot her a pointed look, full of humor and something else, something bigger than she wanted to consider. “Though I’m not ruling you out just yet.”

Phoebe flinched so hard she almost knocked her plate off the table, her enjoyment of the evening quickly fading away.

How could he? The evening had been heading towards being a lot of fun for both of them, the start of exactly the kind of casual fling she preferred. Now though…no.

She couldn’t stay.

She reached into her bag for her cell phone and pressed the button for the app that made it ring. It had come in handy on previous dates when she’d wanted to leave before the guy was ready to let her go, but she hadn’t thought she’d need to pull that with Patrick.

Or, rather, she had hoped she wouldn’t need to use it with him.

“I’m sorry, I need to take this call,” she told him after it rang, then put the phone to her ear. “Mom? What is it? Where are you?” She nodded, then said, “Hold tight, I’ll be right there.”

“Is everything okay?” Patrick asked when she put her phone back into her bag.

“Not really.” At least that part was the truth. “That was my mother. She’s unexpectedly in town.” She pushed her seat back and stood up. “I didn’t get all the details, but I have to go.”

Patrick stood, too. “Well, at least let me—”

“No, it’s fine,” she said quickly even though it was anything but that. Needing to get out of there as quickly as she could, she said, “You should finish dinner. And enjoy this view. Everything tasted great. Thanks Patrick,” the words tumbling out one after the other before she hurried out of the park-turned-restaurant.

Chapter Four

Patrick pulled into RJ’s driveway, pausing to call Phoebe again. He wanted to make sure that she was okay after the abrupt way she’d left dinner, but she wasn’t answering his calls. He’d circled the block around the park several times with his car to see if he could take her home, but there hadn’t been any sign of her.

BOOK: The Wedding Dance
13.31Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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