by Laura Ann
A rumbling chuckle came from the other end of the line. “Wonderful. Are you available this Friday?”
Snow ran through her schedule in her head. School didn’t start until Monday and she couldn’t think of anything that she had planned in advance. “That sounds great. What time?”
“MS. SNOW HAS A BOYFRIEND!” Pete and Repeat shouted in unison!
Snow’s eyes widened, and she felt her cheeks grow hot. “Oh my goodness, I’m sorry. Just a second and I’ll move to a different room.” Snow hurried down the hall to her bedroom, mortified at the chaos that ensued behind her.
“Shut up!” Princess shouted at her brothers. “Leave Ms. Snow alone.”
“Really? Who is he?” A sleepy voice drawled from the corner chair where twelve-year-old Brandon had been dozing.
As Snow passed through the sitting area, heading towards the hallway, she caught Doc, a twelve-year-old girl, pulling her eyes out of her book long enough to roll them before going back to her reading.
Snow bit her lip and held in a giggle while she dashed to close the door. “Sorry. I can hear you now. Friday sounds fine. Where and when can I meet you?”
“Um...“ His voice sounded unsure. “Are you already back in school? I thought you would still be at home for the holiday break. I didn’t mean to catch you at a bad time.”
“No, no, no. I just have my neighbor’s children over decorating cookies. They tend to be a bit loud. I apologize.” And messy and obnoxious and absolutely adorable. She thought with a grin.
“All right. I can pick you up at six if that works for you?”
“Actually, on a first date, I’d rather meet you there.” Snow scrunched her face, hoping she didn’t offend him.
“That’s fine.”
Snow let out a relieved breath and felt her muscles relax. “Great.”
“Six-thirty at The White Wall, then.”
Snow’s eyes widened. The White Wall was the fanciest restaurant in town. On her meager teacher’s salary, she had never been to such a place. I’m going to have to pull out the emergency fund. “Sounds great,” she squeaked out. Although he’s one of the richest men in town. He probably goes there all the time.
“Great. See you then.” His rich voice ended as the call concluded.
Snow leaned back against her bedroom door and hugged the phone to her chest. Had she been alone, she might have let out the girlish squeal that wanted to erupt. Instead, she stood and did a little dance. Oh, my goodness, Quentin Gruffman asked me out. Me! He asked me out. She stopped in front of her mirror. “Who?” She asked her reflection. “Me. Yep.” She pointed to herself. “Me. Quentin Gruffman asked ME out!”
CRASH!
Snow stilled and listened for the sound of the crying to follow the crash, but only heard more scrambling. Straightening her shoulders, she tucked her loose hairs behind her ears and her phone in her back pocket. “Alright, giddy girl. Time to face reality and go see what you have to replace this time.”
QUENTIN HUNG UP HIS phone and blew out an unsteady breath. “You can face down the toughest CEO without batting an eye, but one small woman and your knees give out.” He shook his head with a light chuckle.
It had taken Quentin six long months to work up the courage to contact Snow. Although he hadn’t gotten her phone number the night of the wedding, he could have asked his new sister-in-law for it at any time. It wasn’t until he’d seen Hank and Zellie at the New Year’s Eve party that he had given in to the desire to see Snow again.
Quentin sat back in his luxurious, office chair and ran his fingers through his hair. He had been so lonely that night, watching other couples and dodging the money-hungry ladies that he finally decided to do something about it.
“A New Year, a new chance,” Quentin muttered under his breath. With a huff, he sat back up straight and went back to the paperwork that was sitting in front of him on his desk.
A firm knock on his office door grabbed his attention.
“Enter,” he boomed, his head rising to see who was there.
Mrs. Peabody, Quentin’s housekeeper, bustled into the room. “I thought you could use some sustenance,” she said with a small smile.
Quentin smiled back and took comfort in her motherly ways. Mrs. Peabody had started working for his parents when the boys were all toddlers. She was a young married woman then and her husband had worked as their landscaper.
When the Gruffmans had died while the boys were teenagers, Mrs. Peabody had stayed on and she had taken the boys under her wing. She and her husband had never been blessed with any children and the three Gruffman boys had become her own.
Now that Mr. Peabody had passed on, Quentin had tried to retire Mrs. Peabody many times, offering for a house on a different part of the estate, where he could have her taken care of, but she always refused.
“I’ve still got several good years left in me, Quentin Gruffman,” she’d say while wagging her finger at him. “Don’t you dare try to take them away from me. Besides, nobody knows how to take care of you boys and your moods better than me.”
There was no arguing with her logic, so Quentin let her keep working to her heart’s content.
“Thank you, Mrs. Peabody,” Quentin said kindly as the elderly woman brought him a tray of cookies and milk. Sometimes I think she still thinks I’m a little boy. He mused as he looked at the snack, but his sweet tooth kept him from saying anything as he bit into the delicious treat.
“These are great,” Quentin said after he swallowed.
Mrs. Peabody’s round face turned pink, and she giggled like a schoolgirl. “Oh,” she waved a hand at him, “go on.” She smiled fondly. “I’ll leave you but try not to work too hard.”
Quentin huffed. He was known for being a workaholic. “That reminds me.”
Mrs. Peabody stopped at the door.
“Block out my schedule for Friday night, please. I also need a reservation for six-thirty at The White Wall.”
Mrs. Peabody raised a brow. “Just who are you trying to impress?”
Quentin squirmed in his seat. It didn’t matter how long Mrs. Peabody had been with his family, he had never been comfortable talking about his love life with her. “A friend of Tia’s. She’s a teacher.”
Now both brows were pushed up. “That’s not your usual date.”
Quentin shrugged. It’s not usual for me to be so nervous asking someone out either.
“Of course, sir.” Mrs. Peabody spun on her heel and marched out the door.
Quentin scrunched up his face. I hate it when she calls me ‘sir’. She only does it when she’s irritated at me. You would think she’d be excited I was going on a date.
Quentin shook his head, finished his cookie and went back to work, forcing himself not to count down the minutes to Friday night.
CHAPTER 2
Snow’s hands felt clammy, and she had to keep resisting the temptation to wipe them on her dress. It would probably ruin the fabric. She had just pulled up in front of The White Wall and was waiting in line to have a valet take her car.
Oh, my gosh. This is crazy. I have no idea what I’m doing. She drove forward as the car in front of her was removed and nearly squealed when a young man opened her door.
“Ma’am?” He put out his hand for her.
Biting her lip, Snow put her fingertips in his palm and let him help her from the car. She stood up and felt ridiculous. Do I tip him? What do I do?
“I, uh, I’ve actually never—” she began to stammer out.
“I’ll take her from here.”
Snow’s head spun at the sound of the deeply hypnotic voice to her left. “Quentin,” she breathed, then delicately cleared her throat, hoping he didn’t notice her reaction.
“May I?” Quentin held his hand out and nodded toward her keys.
Snow handed them to him without a word.
Quentin handed them to the valet who grabbed them with a ‘thank you, sir’, before jumping in Snow’s car and driving off.
Snow’s e
yes never left Quentin’s even as the young man left. Holy cow. It’s no wonder women fall all over him.
Quentin was dressed in a suit that had obviously been custom made for his large frame. The coat accentuated his broad shoulders and chest, then tapered to his waist and hips. His hair was slicked back from his face, allowing Snow’s eyes to see every strong angle and bone line in his handsome face. As Snow worked her way to his dark, intriguing eyes, she gasped and felt heat run up her neck and into her cheeks.
Quentin’s eyes were dancing with amusement and the corner of his mouth twitched at her obvious perusal. He leaned down and held out an elbow. “Shall we?” He rumbled.
Snow shivered and then slipped her trembling fingers into the crook of his arm. “Yes, thank you,” she breathed, leaving a trail of white smoke in the air as she spoke.
“There shouldn’t be any ice on the sidewalk, but best to be careful anyway,” Quentin said kindly as he led her inside the warm restaurant.
If I don’t get my tongue working, this man is going to think something is wrong with me. She groaned inwardly. Especially after he caught me checking him out.
As they made it inside, Snow’s breath was taken away once again by the opulence of the building. “Oh my...” Snow’s eyes felt as large as saucers as she took in her surroundings. I do not belong here.
A gravelly chuckle from her right finally drew her attention from the car-sized chandelier hanging in the foyer. “I take it you’ve never been here before,” Quentin stated the obvious.
Snow shook her head slightly. “I, well... I’m a teacher,” she shrugged as if that should explain everything.
Quentin’s brows furrowed ever so slightly. “Yes, you mentioned that.”
He still doesn’t get it. “I can’t normally afford things like this,” Snow continued to explain.
“Has no one ever brought you here for a date? I would think you would have men knocking down your door to take you out.”
Snow’s eyes dropped to the floor, and she felt her telltale blush hit her face again. “Uh, no. As kind as those words are that is definitely not my life.” She straightened and cleared her throat.
“May I take your coat?” A pleasant woman’s voice sounded from behind Snow and she turned, teetering only a little in the high heels she had worn for the occasion. Please don’t be clumsy tonight. She begged herself. If you broke something, it would probably cost you an entire years salary.
“Thank you,” Snow murmured as Quentin helped her take off her long, dress coat.
After handing it to the woman, Snow turned back and jumped a little at the look on Quentin’s face.
Suddenly concerned that she was underdressed, Snow looked down and checked her outfit. She had paired a fitted knee-length black skirt with a metallic, red blouse. She didn’t have a lot of curves but had thought at the time that the large belt at her waist helped create a more feminine shape. Her sequined heels were a little taller than she usually wore, but she loved how they helped shape her thin legs and had felt alright taking advantage of the extra height since Quentin was so tall.
“You look amazing,” Quentin choked out.
“Really?” Snow squeaked, before catching herself.
Quentin’s pained expression softened, and he tilted his head. Reaching out he took her hand. “I’m the most fortunate man in the room tonight.”
There was no stopping the wide smile that spread across Snow’s face at his compliment. “You look wonderful yourself,” Snow said, still smiling.
Quentin inclined his head and then took her hand and wrapped it around his forearm. Leading her to the front desk, they checked in and were escorted to a private table in the back of the restaurant.
Snow tried not to gape at the scenery as they walked, but it was hard to act nonchalant when she was so out of her element.
Quentin held out her chair for her and she settled herself down. “Oh!” She jumped when their waiter unwrapped her napkin and put it in her lap for her. “Thank you,” she said softly.
There goes that twitch again. One day, I would like to see him actually smile.
Quentin's eyes were amused, but he apparently he preferred not to let the rest of the world know it.
Snow opened her menu to look and was immediately caught off guard. “Umm...” She bit her lip.
Quentin put his menu down and leaned forward. “Is there a problem?”
Snow glanced around before leaning towards him so no one would hear their conversation. “I’m really embarrassed to say this, but there are no prices on the menu. I knew tonight would be expensive, so I brought some extra with me, but I still need to stay within a certain budget.” Her eyes pleaded with him to understand. “Do you remember what things cost so I know what I can order?”
IT TOOK A FEW MOMENTS for Snow’s words to penetrate Quentin’s brain. She thinks she’s paying for herself? Seriously? When has a woman I’ve gone out with ever NOT expected me to take care of everything?
Quentin shook his head. “Ms. White, are you under the impression that you are paying for your own meal tonight?”
Snow frowned. “Well, yeah. Don’t most women pay for themselves nowadays? I don’t expect you to pay for me.”
Quentin felt something strange happen to his heart. It felt as if it has skipped a beat or two, then suddenly began racing. Maybe I’m getting sick?
Reaching across the table, Quentin covered Snow’s hand with his own. Ignoring the electricity that shot up his arm at their touch, he sought to reassure her. “I invited you here. I expected to pay. Maybe my parents were old-fashioned, but I was taught that the gentleman takes care of the lady. Maybe someday, when we go on another date, if you feel the need to contribute we can figure something out, but tonight is my treat.”
Snow gave Quentin another one of those broad smiles that took his breath away. She takes my breath away in general. He had been thunderstruck when she had taken her coat off earlier. Most women he went out with wore tight, provocative clothes meant to capture his attention as a man. And although Snow had definitely captured that attention, it wasn’t because she showed too much skin.
Her heels were slim and made her legs look like they went on forever. The fitted skirt she wore covered her all the way to her knees, but formed nicely around the small curve of her hips and came together at the buckle showcasing her waist. Her blouse was shiny and breezy, a nice contrast to the fitted skirt. Her simple clothes were classy and feminine, which made the whole package stunning. He also appreciated her simplicity when it came to hair and makeup. Her black hair was shoulder length and was slightly curled tonight. She had highlighted her eyes, but her only other accessory was a shiny lip gloss on her cupid bow lips.
“Thank you, Mr. Gruffman, that is so generous of you,” Snow gushed.
Quentin raised a brow. “Mr. Gruffman? Sounds like you’re talking to my father, please call me Quentin or Quent.”
Snow raised her own eyebrow. “Only if you stop with the Ms. White business. I’m Snow to my friends.”
“Are we friends?” He stared straight into her eyes, hoping to see some kind of reciprocation of the emotions he felt around her and he wasn’t disappointed.
“I sure hope so,” Snow said softly.
Quentin felt his mouth twitch again. If I’m not careful, she’s going to ruin my reputation, this slip of a woman has me wanting to grin like a fool.
“Let it go, please.”
Quentin frowned and cocked his head. “What?”
“Your smile. I’ve been dying to see it all evening and you keep holding it back.” She put her other hand on his where they still rested in the middle of the table. “Would it be that bad to set aside the brusque businessman for an evening?”
When that twitch pulled at him again, Quentin finally let loose and allowed the smile to cross his face. For a moment it felt slightly uncomfortable. Or maybe rusty. But when Snow responded with her own smile, he quit worrying about it and let it be.
“Whew!” Snow reach
ed up and fanned her cheeks. “I knew it would be worth waiting for.”
Quentin closed his eyes, lowered his chin and laughed quietly. “Ms. White... Snow... you are the most refreshing woman I have met in ages.”
She picked her menu back up and winked at him. “I’m going to take that as a compliment.”
“Oh, it was meant to be,” he flirted back before grabbing his own menu.
CHAPTER 3
An hour later, Quentin rested his hand on Snow’s back while they walked out of the restaurant.
“That was one of the best things, I’ve ever eaten.” Snow turned her large, brown eyes up towards Quentin. “Thank you, Quentin.”
Squelching the desire to puff up like a proud rooster, Quentin smiled down at her. “You’re welcome. I’m glad you enjoyed the food.” He handed the ticket to the valet.
“And the company,” Snow added.
“Did you?”
“Did I what?” Snow asked.
“Enjoy the company?” Quentin found himself holding his breath at her answer.
Snow’s face softened and a small smile played at her lips. “Very much so,” she admitted.
Quentin’s muscles relaxed and he once again found himself with the crazy desire to smile. Get a hold of yourself!
“Oh!” Snow cried out as a child pushed her aside, nearly sending her to the ground, then dashed away.
“Hey!” Quentin only needed to take a couple of quick steps to grab the small boy by the scruff of his coat and haul him back to the valet station. He plopped the boy down in front of Snow, keeping a firm hold on the coat. “What do you think you’re doing?” Quentin lowered his voice to a near growl and he could feel the child start to tremble in his hand.
“Let me go!” The boy yelled and kicked out.
“Do you want me to call the police, sir?” One of the valet attendants asked Quentin.
Before Quentin could respond, Snow jumped in. “Absolutely, not. It’s only a child.”
Quentin watched her in awe as she crouched down in her heels and dress to put herself on the boy’s level.
