by Nicole Ellis
He smiled and reached for her free hand. “You look wonderful. I’ll be the luckiest guy at Luigi’s.”
Her face flushed even more, but her lips curled upward and she squeezed his hand. “Thanks.”
As they walked to where he’d parked his car in the lane outside her cottage, he stole surreptitious glances at her. Their other dates had been more casual – lunch at Wedding Belles and a dinner at the local pizza place – but though she often wore dresses to work, this was the first time he’d seen her so decked out. Her lips shone with some sort of tinted gloss and her dark eyelashes appeared longer and thicker, framing her brown eyes. Tia was the kind of woman who didn’t need to wear makeup, but tonight she’d looked even more beautiful than ever.
He opened the passenger door for her and she slid onto the leather seats of his BMW, one of the few luxuries he hadn’t given up when he’d left his former career. They made small talk as they drove to the restaurant, but didn’t get into anything deeper, for which he was grateful. He didn’t want to mention that he’d seen Antonio at the AA meeting – or, rather, he couldn’t tell her. Anyone who attended the meetings was assured anonymity to the highest extent possible, and he intended to honor that commitment.
When they arrived at Luigi’s, he felt exactly like he’d predicted – the luckiest guy there. She stumbled a little as they crossed the threshold and gripped his arm more tightly to catch her balance.
“You okay?” he asked, steadying her with a hand to the small of her back. The warmth of her body radiated through the thin, silky material of her dress, and he let his fingers linger there for a moment longer than necessary before releasing her.
“Yeah.” She laughed under her breath and glanced ruefully at her strappy high-heeled shoes. “I tend to wear sensible flats for work so I don’t sprain something while I’m running around like a chicken with my head cut off, but I broke out the fancy shoes for tonight.”
Cal’s ex-wife had owned at least thirty pairs of high heels, and even had a special shelving unit installed in the walk-in closet she’d taken over in the master bedroom of the condo they’d shared during their marriage. Cal had never understood why women were so obsessed with them though. It seemed like their narrow stems would caught in every gap in the pavement – an accident waiting to happen. However, he did have to admit that they nicely accentuated Tia’s toned calves.
Their reservation was called shortly after their arrival, and the waiter seated them in the corner of the restaurant at a table bearing a red-and-white checkered tablecloth, crimson linen napkins, and two full water glasses. A bottle of Chianti stood behind two tulip-shaped wine glasses. The restaurant itself was dimly lit, but white candles flickered in a small bowl in the center of every table.
“This is lovely,” Tia said, admiring their surroundings as she sat down.
“It is.” Cal sipped his water and looked around.
The waiter came by as soon as they were settled and rattled off a long list of daily specials. He twirled his black handlebar mustache while he waited for them to respond, and Cal fought hard to keep from laughing.
Cal glanced at Tia. Judging by the way her lips were twitching, she found their waiter’s mannerisms just as funny as he did.
“Can we have a few minutes to decide?” Cal asked.
The waiter nodded curtly and spun around to make his way to the table next to them.
As soon as he was out of earshot, Tia burst out into a fit of laughter. Her laugh was contagious, and Cal found himself chuckling along with her.
“He’s so serious,” Tia gasped. “But that mustache!” Her words dissolved into another bout of giggles.
“I know.” Cal smiled so widely that his face hurt.
Tia composed herself, but still grinned. “I needed that. I don’t think I’ve laughed like that in a long time.” She shook her head, her cheeks a radiant pink. “I’ve been so stressed out about Antonio being here.”
“You have seemed a little down.” He peered at her. “Do you want to talk about it?”
She closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them and took a deep breath, meeting his gaze. “I just hate that my parents don’t trust me to live my own life. I’ve been avoiding them ever since they announced their plans to come out to Willa Bay for Christmas, so they sent him to check up on me.” She took a long drink of ice water, then set the glass on a white paper coaster that already sported several rings of condensation. “Of course, he won’t admit it to me, but why else would he be in town?”
Cal flashed back to seeing her brother earlier that evening at the AA meeting. “He hasn’t told you why he’s in Willa Bay?”
“Nope.” She brushed a few strands of hair away from her face. “But I’m assuming he’s going to order me to return home.”
Cal raised his eyebrows at her choice of phrases. “Order you?” Tia’s family was very different than his easygoing parents.
She nodded. “Yeah. They like to think they know what’s best for me.”
Cal was about to speak when the waiter returned to their table, tapping a notepad with a ballpoint pen. They’d been so wrapped up in conversation that neither of them had even opened the menu, much less chosen an entrée.
“Have you made any decisions?” He twisted his mustache again as he waited. This time, still thinking about the dynamics of Tia’s family, Cal didn’t find it as amusing.
“Uh…” Cal frantically scanned his menu as Tia did the same. “How about the chicken parmigiana?”
The waiter nodded with approval. “Excellent choice.” He turned to Tia. “And for you, ma’am?”
“I’ll have the lobster ravioli.” She waited for him to finish writing down her selection, then handed him her menu. Seconds later, he was halfway across the room. Tia eyed the Chianti.
“Would you like some?” Cal picked up the wide-bottomed bottle and held it close to her wine glass.
“Sure.” When he was finished pouring, she sipped it, then shrugged. “Not bad.” He set the bottle down at the far edge of the table. She looked at him over the top of her glass. “Aren’t you having any?”
“Nope. I’m good with this.” He lifted his water glass from the table, leaving a circle of dampness on the white paper doily.
Tia was about to take another sip, but she placed her wine back on the table, her cheeks flaming. “Oh my gosh. I totally forgot. Is it okay with you if I drink this?”
He smiled to put her at ease. “It’s fine. I don’t mind at all. Just because I don’t drink alcohol doesn’t mean that you can’t.”
“Are you sure?” She picked up her wine glass and studied it, her expression clouded with doubt. “I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. I’m not sure what the proper etiquette is here…”
“I’m sure. I’m perfectly happy with water. In fact, I’ve become quite a connoisseur of it.” He tilted the glass to his mouth and took a small sip, swishing it around his mouth as though tasting its intricacies. He nodded approvingly. “An excellent vintage, probably thirty minutes from the tap.” He winked at her. She giggled, breaking the tension that had built up around them.
The waiter brought them a plate of thick focaccia accompanied by a tray of shallow bowls containing olive oil and balsamic vinegar for dipping. Cal pulled off a chunk of bread and dipped it into the condiments, inhaling the aroma of herbs and yeast as he bit into it.
Tia did the same, her eyes lighting up with pleasure as she tasted it. She dabbed at her mouth with her linen napkin. “Yum. I hope the rest of the meal is as amazing as this bread.”
He shrugged. “If it’s not, we can ask for more bread and make a meal of it.” He wasn’t even kidding. He would be more than happy to have only that bread for the rest of his life – it was that good. He took another piece, hoping Tia wouldn’t think him greedy, but he was unable to stop himself.
She tore off a bite-sized piece, swept it through the olive oil and balsamic, then popped it into her mouth. “I’d be up for that, but I need to stop eating
it if I’m going to have room for any of my dinner.”
He folded his hands in front of him to avoid eating any more of the bread. “Do you really think your brother is here to convince you to go back to Texas?”
She twisted the napkin between her fingers, her mouth twisting to the side at the same time. “I don’t know. But something is up with him. He’s acting weird.”
Cal nodded. He was willing to bet Antonio had a lot going on in his life that Tia didn’t know about. “You should talk to him.”
“Maybe.” She stared up at the ceiling, then back at him. “He’s even rented a studio apartment in town, so I think he’s planning on staying in Willa Bay for a while. I just can’t figure out why he’d be here if it’s not to enforce some directive from our parents.”
“Maybe he wanted a change of scenery, just like you did.” Cal could relate to that. Living in a small town had been a welcome change from his former life. If their family was as controlling as Tia had implied, Antonio may want some distance from them to work through his own demons.
“I guess.” Tia didn’t appear convinced.
The waiter arrived at their table holding two steaming platters of food. He set them down in front of them with a flourish, ending Tia and Cal’s discussion about her brother.
Cal groaned as he examined the huge portions. “I think I’m going to regret eating so much focaccia bread. There’s enough here for several people. I’m definitely going to have leftovers.”
“Me too, but I’m not complaining.” Tia stuck her fork into one of the plump lobster raviolis enveloped in a creamy pumpkin sauce. She chewed slowly, then smiled in appreciation and licked her lips as she selected her next bite. “Yeah. I definitely won’t mind eating this again for lunch tomorrow.”
They dug into their food and ate voraciously until neither of them could take another bite.
“I think I may have overdone it.” Tia patted her stomach. “But it was worth it.”
The waiter came by at that moment. “Would you like some dessert?” He started in on a lengthy list of desserts and after-dinner drinks.
Tia shook her head vigorously, looking a little green around the gills.
Cal held up his hand. “I think we’re both stuffed. Could we get some boxes, please?”
“I’ll be back with your check and some boxes in a few minutes.” The waiter jetted off toward the kitchen.
“Are you okay?” Cal asked Tia.
She gave him a slight smile. “As long as you don’t mention food again, I’ll be fine.”
Cal paid their bill and they left, both carrying large paper boxes filled with their leftovers. He opened the passenger side door and held Tia’s box while she sat down and stretched the seat belt over her red dress.
When they’d arrived back at the resort, he parked in front of her cottage and helped her out of the car. A few solar powered lanterns lit the way to the front door, but the walkway was uneven, so he wrapped his arm around her waist to keep her from stumbling in her high heels. Tia’s roommate, Meg, must have been at home, because a sliver of light shone through the living room window’s heavy curtains, and a twang of country music drifted through the air.
Cal walked Tia up the porch steps, then paused at the front door. “I had a really nice time tonight.”
“I did too.” She shifted her weight in her heels and scowled. “But these shoes are driving me crazy.” She bent down, unbuckled the straps, and stepped out of them, decreasing her height by several inches.
Cal laughed. “I wondered how long those would last.”
She sighed and stared dejectedly at the footwear she’d discarded. “They’re so pretty, but so impractical.”
“I know something else that’s pretty.” Cal looked down at her and winked. As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he winced at how ridiculous he sounded.
Tia cocked her head to the side. “Really? That’s your best move?” Before he knew what was happening, she rested her hands on his shoulders, stretched high on her tiptoes, and kissed him softly on the mouth. She stepped back, but her fingers lingered on his shirt, making his breath catch.
When he’d regained his composure, he smiled softly at her and said, “You’re right. That wasn’t my best effort.” As though he’d requested it from a DJ, Faith Hill’s voice rang out from the radio inside the cottage, crooning about a pivotal moment – just as he circled his hands around Tia’s waist. He pulled her close, kissing her until his own head spun. When she’d practically melted into his chest, he pulled away and locked eyes with her, then grinned mischievously. “Now that was my best move.”
Next to them, the drapes rustled, then were hastily shut tight.
“I’d better get inside,” Tia said, her breath still a little ragged.
He didn’t want the night to end, but it was getting late and they both had to work in the morning. “See you tomorrow?”
She nodded as she turned the doorknob and pushed the door open a hair. “Maybe we can get together for lunch.”
“Sounds good.”
“Hey, Cal?”
“Yeah?”
“I had a really good time with you tonight. Thanks for making me forget about Antonio for a while.” She stood in the shadows and he couldn’t make out her facial expression, but he could hear the anxiety in her tone.
“No problem.” Cal turned and headed back to his car with his hands in his jacket pockets, whistling the tune to the song playing earlier: “This Kiss”. At the edge of the lawn, he turned and saw Tia waving at him from the front window. He gave her a jaunty wave back and got into his car.
Although Luigi’s hadn’t been the fanciest place he’d ever taken a woman to, this had by far been the best date he’d ever had. He’d had some initial doubts about their slight age difference, and concerns about Tia’s maturity, but she’d quickly extinguished those thoughts.
Unfortunately, they’d since been replaced with worry about how Antonio’s appearance in town would affect their relationship. While Cal was fairly certain she didn’t know anything about her brother’s involvement with AA, things like that tended to come out eventually. When they did, would she be angry that Cal hadn’t divulged Antonio’s secret?
14
Debbie
“Honey? Are we having dinner tonight?” Peter’s disembodied voice intruded upon Debbie’s trancelike state. She’d been working on the cancer fundraiser for most of the day, but at this point the numbers were swimming on the notebook page in front of her.
She rubbed her eyes and tried to focus on what her husband had said. “Dinner?” It seemed like she’d just wolfed down a grilled cheese sandwich for lunch, but her stomach now grumbled like she hadn’t eaten in days, and Peter was home from work. That realization jolted her fully into the present. “What time is it?”
“It’s six-thirty.” Her husband came into view, only a few feet away from her. He peered at her. “Honey? Are you okay?”
She pushed her notebooks, calculator, and pens into a neat pile on the dining room table. “Yeah. I’m fine. I just lost track of time.” She cast a guilty glance at the ground beef she’d set out to thaw two hours ago.
“Is that the fundraiser stuff again?” Peter’s tone held concern mixed with a touch of annoyance. “You’ve been working on that a lot lately. Don’t you have things to do for the catering business and…um, stuff around the house? Maybe you should take a break for a few days.”
She bristled at his implication. She had spent many hours over the last few weeks researching the applicable regulations for fundraisers in their county and finding the perfect vendors to make it a reality. Unfortunately, that had come at a cost. It had been days since she’d done the dishes or any other household chores, and their house was unusually messy. But, if Peter took exception to that, he could help out a little.
She sighed. She wasn’t really angry with him, and she knew that lately he’d put in equally long hours at work. The stress of planning a major event like this was getting to he
r, and she had let it get in the way of her other responsibilities.
As calmly as she could manage, she said, “I’ll have dinner ready in half an hour. As for the business, Libby’s managing all of our catering jobs this week. Of course, I’ll still help with the parties we’re catering on Friday and Saturday.”
With so many local businesses hosting holiday events, the period from the end of November through December was one of the busiest seasons for Debbie’s catering company, Willa Bay Provisions. This year, Libby had taken on a bigger role with the business, which had allowed Debbie to pursue some of her other interests, like the fundraiser. With Libby’s recent admission that she may be moving out of state, Debbie’s newfound free time could be in jeopardy – and the fundraiser along with it. She pressed her lips together and stared blindly at her notepad. How was she going to make it all work?
Peter sighed deeply and smoothed a few strands of gray hair back from his receding hairline. “I’m just worried you’re taking on too much. You need to be careful of your own health too.”
“I’ll be fine. This is only temporary.” At least she hoped it would be. She still planned to hire an assistant for the business, whether Libby left or not, although she’d decided to hold off until she knew whether she needed one full-time or part-time. By the end of December, the catering company would have fewer commitments, and Debbie hoped to have most of the details for the fundraiser locked down as well. If she could make it to the end of the year without having a breakdown, everything would be fine.
Peter nodded, not saying anything else, but his face was contorted with concern as he left the kitchen to go upstairs and change out of his work clothes. She sighed deeply. She knew he was worried about her, but she’d already committed to the fundraiser and needed to see it through.
She got up from the table and touched the plastic-wrapped package of beef, which, while still cold, had defrosted enough to fry up for the tacos she’d planned to make for dinner. She took out a large frying pan and dumped the meat into it, then washed her hands. It took effort to avoid fixating on the dirty dishes next to the sink – she didn’t like having their house untidy any more than Peter did. Right now, though, she needed to focus on getting dinner on the table.
