by Cindi Madsen
The orchestra played in the corner of the room, there was a large area in the middle for dancing, and couples swirled around the floor. Tables draped in white tablecloths dotted the edges of the room. Sweet peas filled the vases in the centers, scenting the air. During dinner they’d had the keynote speaker, people had pledged lots of money to the hospital, and now everyone was up enjoying their evening. It was about as close to a ball as I’d ever been to.
Virginia came up and put a hand on my shoulder. She had on a black-and-white dress and was wearing her signature string of pearls. “Darby, honey, you simply must meet this man. He’s handsome, successful, and perfect for you in every way.”
I looked around the room, trying to find Jake. The place was packed, making it hard to find him in the crowd. “Thank you, but actually I—”
“I won’t take no for an answer.” Virginia gave my arm a gentle tug. “You at least have to allow me to introduce him. If after a few minutes you’re not completely intrigued, I’ll let you make an excuse to take your leave of us.”
I’d learned that when it came to Virginia, it was easier to go along than to argue, so I allowed myself to be led away to what was sure to be an awkward encounter with a boring, self-centered, but oh-so-handsome-and-successful man. They were Virginia’s specialty.
A woman with a familiar face I couldn’t put a name to waved as I walked by. I waved back, trying to recall how I knew her.
“Here he is!” Virginia said. I peeled my eyes away from the mystery lady to meet the guy she was sure I’d be intrigued by. “Darby Quinn, I’d like you to meet Jake Knight. This charming young man has been a lifesaver.” Virginia gestured to me. “Darby is a very successful interior designer. She transformed my places into the most beautiful works of art. And look at her! I’m sure you’ll agree she is lovely.”
“I definitely agree.” Jake stepped next to me and slid his arm around my waist. “In fact, I thought she was so lovely, I asked her to accompany me here tonight. She tried to resist, but as you pointed out, I’m just so charming.”
Virginia put both hands over her heart as she stared at us. “I simply knew you two would hit it off. I’m so glad to see that you’re together.”
I shook my head. “Oh, we’re not—”
“Thank you,” Jake said, dropping his arm from my waist and taking my hand. “Now, if you don’t mind, I think I’ll steal her away for a dance.”
He led me to the dance floor, we assumed the formal position, and then we were twirling around the floor with the rest of the couples.
“Your last name is Knight?” I asked.
“Is something wrong with that?”
“No.” Just that I’m anti-fairy tales and you’re a Knight. It’s not ironic at all. “Your dancing skills are rather impressive.”
Jake spun me out and brought me back in. “I’ve had to attend functions like this for a long time. My parents were on the board of everything. Still are, actually.”
I wanted to ask more about his family. From the sounds of it, he’d probably always had a trust fund, which most girls would’ve swooned over. But since I’d learned the value of hard work, I found most guys born with silver spoons were lazy. Jake managed a restaurant, though, which I assumed wasn’t easy.
Jake slid his arm tighter around me, pulling me close enough I was pressed against his firm body. My heart rate screamed into the danger zone, and with how close we were, I was sure he could feel it thumping against his chest. And speaking of chests, I wanted to relax fully into the dance and lean my head against his. I wanted to close my eyes and melt into the perfect moment before it ended.
He tilted his head, the hint of a smile playing on his lips. “Hmm. I kind of expected you to try to take the lead.”
“Do I seem like the type of girl who can’t follow simple dance moves?” I was relieved my voice didn’t come out as breathless as I suddenly felt.
“Not can’t.” That butterfly-inducing grin spread across his face. “More like won’t.”
I did my best to act unaffected, lifting my chin and throwing in a touch of haughtiness. “Well, if you didn’t already know how to dance, I would go ahead and take the lead. But since you’re doing a good job, you can have it.” I moved my hand from his shoulder to the back of his neck, a thrill shooting through me when he swallowed hard. “For now.”
…
The elevator doors slid open, and Jake stepped off with me instead of riding up to his floor.
Now, I know I’ve gone on and on about how I don’t believe two people can work out, but I am not into one-night stands, flings, or meaningless trysts either. Some girls claim they can do it, and maybe they can. One of my former coworkers claimed she could and then she’d cry when a week had gone by and the guy didn’t call. So, I’m sure you’re asking the same question I’ve asked myself: If you don’t believe in relationships or flings, what do you believe in?
I wasn’t exactly sure. What’s between monogamy and promiscuity? The basic idea was to have a string of semi-long-term, low-risk relationships. Like serial monogamy. I know it sounds impossible, but I was still working on it. All I knew was unavoidable daily awkwardness was something I wanted to stay far, far away from.
Yet Jake possessed a certain je ne sais quoi. And I’d had more fun with him tonight than I’d had in a long time.
Don’t even think about it, Darby. You see him every day. You eat at Blue all the time. Friends is the way to go.
I probably shouldn’t have flirted with him all night, then.
Or pressed my body against his. Heat wound through my core just thinking about it. And if he can dance like that… My heart jolted and my pulse pounded. Man, it’d been a long time since I’d even kissed a guy.
Remember the rules. Stick to the rules.
Shaking off the memory of how his firm body felt next to mine, I dug into my purse and took out my keys. I unlocked the door, then twisted around to end the date. “I had a good—”
Jake’s lips cut me off before I could go into why it was probably for the best if we didn’t go out again. It was a quick, chaste kiss, over before I had a chance to latch onto it, but it still sent a spike of electricity through me. He stepped away, said good night, and then headed back toward the elevator.
No words came out as I watched him. The farther he got, the stupider it seemed to yell out a good-bye. So I walked into my condo and locked the door behind me.
Well, that was about the worst preemptive breakup speech I’ve ever given.
Chapter Nine
“Tell me everything,” Steph said, stepping into my place. She’d brought a box of doughnuts to keep us sugared up for all the wedding-planning stuff we had to go over.
“I’ve got a ton of work to do and my computer keeps acting up. I’m about to throw it out the window.”
“When I said everything, I meant about Jake.”
I sat on my couch, closed my temperamental laptop, and set it off to the side. “I told you everything over the phone. We had a fun time, quick kiss, that’s it.”
“Yeah, but did he say he’d call?”
“Actually, he doesn’t have my number.” I opened the box she’d placed on my coffee table and selected a cinnamon-swirled pastry. “It doesn’t matter, though, because I was about to tell him we couldn’t be more than friends. Had he said anything about calling, I would’ve told him it wasn’t a good idea.”
Stephanie plunked her giant wedding-planner binder next to the box of doughnuts, selected a maple one out of the box, and sat back on my couch. Her red shirt matched the color of my couch so well, everything but her head and arms disappeared. “How can you just blow him off like that? You said you had a good time.”
“You, of all people, know why. Now let’s get started.”
“Since Anthony’s aunts are in a fight now, I have to redo the whole seating chart again and it’s a mess.” Steph sat up and flipped open her book. “Here you are. Ooh, look at my little pink friend Darby. And there’s still an empty
seat next to you in case you want to invite Jake.”
“I’m not going to invite Jake. Wedding dates are the worst.” Before she could argue, like I could see she was going to, I said, “Need I remind you what happened last time I took a date to a wedding?”
Steph’s lip curled. “Okay, so it was bad.” She scooted forward. “But that was totally different. You know Jake. Is inviting him really worse than having everyone looking at you all sad because you don’t have a date to your best friend’s wedding?”
Honestly, Steph’s wedding was going to be a hard day for me. I was worried I would lose my best friend, and even more worried she’d eventually get her heart trampled beyond repair. Once there were joint mortgages and bank accounts and that marriage certificate involved, breaking up wasn’t just a cry fest with a side of calorie binging. It was unwinding your entire life from his, one painful string at a time. But I was working on keeping from blurting out those kinds of thoughts, so I went with something else that was also true. “I’d rather be there alone, than be on a date that could go down in flames during one of your big moments.”
“I remember back when Jimmy Delfino dumped me and I was the pessimist. You kept insisting I’d meet someone better, pushing me to date all those other guys so I could find my true love. Now I have, and you’re the one who doesn’t believe in it.”
“That’s because I hadn’t broken free of the brainwashing yet. And better than Jimmy Delfino wasn’t really hard to find. He was an awful boyfriend.”
“He was pretty awful.” Stephanie looked at me, and I had the feeling she wanted me to tell her it would be different with Anthony. I’d decided to support her in her decision, but false assurances weren’t my thing. For one, she’d see through it. So in the end, I turned to the wedding-planning book and acted really interested.
Stephanie moved a few figures on the seating chart around. “I’ll keep you next to Drew and his plus one, Dwight and your mom, and Devin and Anne, in case you end up solo. But I still believe you’ll find the right guy. And you never know. Maybe you already have.” She gave me her no-nonsense glare. “Promise me you’ll give Jake a chance.”
I wiped my hands together, trying to get the glaze off my fingers. Apparently, I was going to have to say something. What was with everyone pushing me to open up lately? “Steph, I’m glad you found Anthony. I really am. I’m glad you’ve worked things out with his mom, even though she constantly pushes her way into you and Anthony’s business.”
“She just loves her son and is having a hard time letting go.”
“See, you look for the good in everybody. I used to do that and I got knocked down over and over again. I just don’t think I can pick myself up anymore. It’s one thing to get over the jerks—they shook my trust, hurt me, and made me feel like crap—but I could see them for what they were afterward. It’s another thing altogether to get over the good ones.”
“And you’re afraid Jake might be one of the good ones?”
I stared at Steph, not sure what to say to that. So far, everything about Jake was great. But seriously, it had only been a little more than a week since I’d met him. I didn’t know anything about him. I did know that knowing stuff only got you in deeper.
“How long have we been friends?” Stephanie asked.
“Since the middle of junior year when you moved in and I discovered girls could actually be cool.”
“I am the coolest,” Steph said with a smile. “That’s been fourteen years now—Wow, we’re getting old.”
I frowned. “Hey, speak for yourself.”
“Anyway, I know you better than anyone. Your family might come close, but I’d still say I have them beat. My point is, I only want the best for you. Laying out our horrible relationships was therapeutic—after that I decided to stop going for the bad boys. It’s why I gave Anthony a chance.” The dreamy look Stephanie got whenever she was thinking about her fiancé crossed her features. “And look what happened. I’m about to get married to a guy I’m crazy about. Instead of using your case studies as a guide, you decided to stop believing in love. Now you won’t even give Jake a chance, just because he has one tiny thing in common with Evan.”
“You haven’t even met Jake,” I said. “What makes you so insistent on me giving him a chance?”
“Because he’s all you’ve talked about since you met him. And when it comes to you, that’s saying something.”
…
For a week, Jake had been everywhere. After our date, he was nowhere. Nowhere I was, anyway. Monday came and went. Tuesday. Wednesday. On Thursday, I was starting to think he must be going out of his way to avoid me.
I sat in front of my computer at work and played with my design software, clicking paint colors and moving digital appliances.
Kathy, our receptionist, called me on my intercom. “Stephanie’s here.”
I picked up my phone’s receiver. “Send her on back.”
A minute later, Steph walked into my office. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears and her features were pinched. Then the tears broke free.
I stood, alarm pumping through my veins. “What happened?” I asked, even though I was sure Anthony had done something horrible. I was going to kill him.
“It’s stupid, I know. I can’t believe I’m getting so emotional over it, but after planning and planning…” Steph flopped into the chair opposite my desk and sniffed. “They’re broken. Five of them are broken, and they can’t send more because everything’s on back order for three months. There’s no way we’d get them in time for the wedding.”
The tension in my body eased. Anthony was safe. For now. “What’s broken?”
“My centerpieces.”
“The pink heart vases?”
Steph fell forward, putting her head into her hands. “Yes. The florist called to tell me they got the shipment and that some of them broke during shipping. She argued with the company, I argued with them. They gave me a big discount, so I thought I could fix it. But I’ve been all over the city and no one even has heart vases.”
“No one’s going to notice the vases aren’t the same,” I said. “We’ll find some that look nice. It’ll just give your tables variety.”
“Anthony and I had a big argument last night, too. I told him his mom was overstepping a little bit, changing things without talking to me, and he got upset because she’s just trying to help.” Stephanie wiped a few tears. “Go ahead and say it. Tell me you saw it coming.”
Now that she was asking me to say it, I couldn’t. Not when she already looked so crushed. I stepped around the front of my desk and sat down on the edge of it, choosing to focus on the other problem first. “We’ll fix this. Let’s go get something to eat and we’ll figure it all out. We’ll write everything down in an organized list and you’ll feel better.” And my boss will probably have a fit if she finds out I’m away from my desk, even though I’m caught up, but that’s just too bad, because this is an emergency bride situation.
Stephanie got out a tissue and wiped her nose. “Okay. You want to go to Blue?”
“No way.”
“Come on. We can feel him out. It’ll help me get my mind off my problems.”
“I already know what happened. We went out, he decided I’m not that cool, so he’s avoiding me. It saves me a lot of trouble, actually. Things will be a little strange when I bump into him, but it won’t be horrible. Not like if we’d done a big, full-blown relationship.” I grabbed my purse. “That said, I’m not ready to face him yet. I’m in the mood for Mexican food anyway.”
…
After eating food swimming in chili sauce and cheese, Steph and I started on the wedding problems. I wrote down all the places I could think of that might have workable vases. The heart-shaped ones she’d special ordered were pink-and-white swirled glass. Because they had to be tall enough to hold the cherry blossoms, they were an uncommon size.
With everything else that was going to be on the tables at the reception, I doubted anyone would notice
if some of the vases weren’t exactly the same. It would bother Stephanie, but she’d probably be distracted enough with everything else going on to get over it.
Then again, her expression said it was the end of the world, so maybe not.
Anthony called as I was finishing up my list. A few minutes into their conversation, they were saying things like, “No, I’m sorry,” and “I love you so much.” All the makeup stuff couples say. No matter how cynical and pessimistic I was, I really did think Stephanie and Anthony went well together. I knew they’d be back to hourly phone calls by the time Steph and I figured out what to do about her vases.
My phone rang and I answered it. Mrs. Crabtree told me how much she loved the sculpture I’d picked out for her bathroom, which gave me an idea for Steph’s problem.
When Steph and I finished our respective phone calls, I tore off the list of places and shoved the paper in my purse. “I’ve got an idea. I’m not sure what it’ll cost or if she’ll do it, but we can try.”
Twenty minutes later, Stephanie and I were in the gallery where Tina’s artwork was on display. “Good to see you again.” Tina looked from me to Stephanie. “Whoa. I can tell you guys are sisters. You look so much alike.”
“We’re not, actually.” Stephanie draped her arm over my shoulders. “I consider her the sister I never had, though.”
I quickly explained the situation to Tina, and asked her if she’d be offended at the idea of creating similar-looking vases for Steph—I knew some artists considered recreating someone else’s work for money selling out. “It’s six weeks away, and we need five vases.”
Tina studied the picture. “Like yea big”—she held out her hands—“with a skinny hole to place the cherry blossoms?”
“Exactly.”
