Propose To Me
A Romance Anthology
by Caroline Andrus
Tara Fox Hall
Elena Kane
Charmaine Pauls
Louise Redmann
Ellyse Roberts
Katie Stephens
Published by
Satin Romance
An Imprint of Melange Books, LLC
White Bear Lake, MN 55110
www.satinromance.com
Artificial Tears, Copyright 2015 Charmaine Pauls
The Spark, Copyright 2015 Ellyse Roberts
Proposal Unexpected, Copyright 2015 Elena Kane
One Perfect Moment, Copyright 2015 Tara Fox Hall
Running Late, Copyright 2015 Caroline Andrus
Cappuccino Dreaming, Copyright 2015 Louise Redmann
Love Weavers, Copyright 2015 Katie Stephens
ISBN: 978-1-68046-139-8
Names, characters, and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
Published in the United States of America.
Cover Design by Caroline Andrus
PROPOSE TO ME
A Note From the Publisher
Artificial Tears by Charmaine Pauls
Lourdes March has cried enough tears over her dishonest ex. She is moving on. Until she walks into an optometrist's office, and is confronted with the splitting image of the man she's trying to forget.
About Charmaine Pauls
The Spark by Ellyse Roberts
Anna Claire had everything: money, a fiancé and a successful job as an architect. Her life was going great until a homeless guy with a grudge decided to set the building she was renovating on fire. Ethan was a firefighter filled with regret from a mistake he made long ago. An inferno brought them back together. But can fate re-ignite the spark they thought was lost forever?
About Ellyse Roberts
Proposal Unexpected by Elena Kane
Adele had the perfect life, until it all fell apart. She’s left alone and bitter after discovering her husband’s many transgressions, when she finds herself face to face with a familiar face from the past. Wondering why they ever parted ways to begin with, Adele is faced with the difficult choice of forgetting and forgiving her husband or starting a life with the man she spent years loving before life got in the way.
About Elena Kane
One Perfect Moment by Tara Fox Hall
Coriander Hartwell’s dream of getting married has almost come true; her longtime lover Stefan VanKellam II has finally popped the question. But the instant she locks eyes with old flame Dustin at her high school reunion, Cori begins to rethink her dream of a perfect wedding...and the man she wishes would make her his wife.
About Tara Fox Hall
Running Late by Caroline Andrus
On her way to meet with her boyfriend, Will, Paige reflects upon their seven-year relationship and prepares herself to be dumped. Meanwhile, Will has something else in mind.
About Caroline Andrus
Cappuccino Dreaming by Louise Redmann
What does it cost to be yourself? She’s cooked for her boyfriend, played nice with his friends, and twisted her personality to fit his. He’s booked an expensive restaurant for Saturday night. Surely he’s going to propose. But when she sees her lover kiss her best friend, she flees into a coffee house only to trip up the stairs, spilling her cappuccino over everyone. Out of the angry crowd, one man offers his hand and a fresh drink.
About Louise Redmann
Love Weavers by Katie Stephens
Hannah and Wynter have two things in common: an incredible artistic talent and witchcraft. In order to acquire Wynter’s jewelry-making secrets, Hannah finds a way to travel across time and meet her ancestor. However, her novice powers simply amuse Wynter, who is embroiled in a love triangle and has no time for the young witch. When an enchanted necklace disappears, can the two work together or must their men take matters into their own hands?
About Katie Stephens
Previews
A note from the publisher
Thanks to all of the authors who contributed their creative stories for our summer anthology, Propose To Me. Your voices shine through these stories and I am confident readers will enjoy every one of them.
And to the readers, thank you for supporting the authors and small press publishers.
Nancy Schumacher, Publisher
Melange Books LLC
www.melange-books.com
Satin Romance
www.satinromance.com
Fire and Ice for Young Adults
www.fireandiceya.com
Artificial Tears
By Charmaine Pauls
For Marguerite
Lourdes looked up from the Kindle she was reading in the plush white chair of Santiago’s Clinica Alemana when the receptionist called her name.
“Ms. March to consulting room two.”
Finally. It had taken long enough. Why were doctors always behind schedule? Lourdes shut down her tablet and made her way down the clinic hallway.
Halfway there, her step slowed. It couldn’t be. The man waiting for her in the white overcoat looked nothing like his on-line profile photo. Sure, his face was framed by tousled hair and day-old stubble, but it had a red tint instead of blond, and his eyes were blue not gray. On her computer screen, he had looked older. In real life, he was young–and the spitting image of Dirk, her ex-boyfriend.
The strained lines of his mouth slackened, and his eyes warmed a little as he watched her pause. She faltered for only a second, and then moved forward again before it could seem awkward. Lourdes had chosen him for his credentials, despite the lack of reservations on his clinic page. Most optometrists in this clinic booked up six months in advance. She had attributed his unpopularity to his gringo appearance. This was Latino country. But she hadn’t expected a carbon copy of Dirk. Minus the freckles. Standing in front of him now, she couldn’t help but stare.
His expression softened as he gave her a smile. “I’m Dr. Bouwer.”
She held out her hand to shake his, but he bent down and pressed his cheek against hers, the customary Chilean greeting reserved for friends. The act took her aback so much she didn’t introduce herself. But then he already knew her name. His gaze was even as he motioned her to the room at the end of the corridor.
Lourdes watched his broad back as he walked around his desk and took a seat. His build was similar to Dirk’s, except a bit taller. The resemblance was disconcerting.
Lourdes suddenly became aware of Dr. Bouwer staring at her with a raised eyebrow. “Well?”
She blinked. “Oh. Um, I need an eye test.”
“What seems to be the problem?” he said, folding his hands on the desk. She couldn’t help but notice those big hands with strong veins and neatly trimmed nails.
“I have trouble reading small text.”
He turned his chair to his computer and started typing. “Since when?”
The side profile could have been Dirk: same straight nose, same square chin, and same dimple. “A month or so.”
“Any other symptoms? Headaches after reading or watering eyes?”
His fingers moved competently over the keyboard, eyes fixed on the screen.
“Just a lot of redness and burning.”
“Right.” He turned back to her. “Ms. March...” In the short hesitation that
followed, Lourdes noticed the corner of his mouth lift, making his dimple more pronounced. He shifted. “Let’s have a look at you.” He got up and indicated an examination chair.
Lourdes could have sworn he wanted to say something else. She sat down on the edge of the seat and waited for the right moment to ask him if he was related to Dirk. Then she decided against it. That was ridiculous. She had dated Dirk for two years. He had never mentioned a brother or a cousin. Certainly, nobody who looked exactly like him. She had heard once that everyone had a double. It seemed like she had found Dirk’s.
After Dr. Bouwer moved the phoropter into place, he touched her shoulders and gently pushed her back. Next, he laid his palm on her head, ever so softly, positioning her so that her right eye aimed through the lens. The contact lingered. It caused a tingling through Lourdes’ body, and she clenched her hands together between her knees in an effort to calm her rioting nerves.
“Please read what you see.” His breath moved the air. She felt it close to the side of her head, like a warm whisper. He changed his position and sat on the stool in front of her. For some reason, Dr. Bouwer unsettled her, and it was more than just his likeness to Dirk.
She cleared her throat and called out the letters and numbers that appeared in her view. The charts were easy to read. She sprinted through them, while he took notes.
“Very good,” he said at the end of the test, sounding surprised. “I’ve never had a full score before.”
She smiled, and then jerked a little as his hand touched hers. “Now the other one.”
The left eye did not perform as well. The last two rows were a blur. This time there was no praise from Dr. Bouwer.
“Are your eyes often as red as they are now?” he asked, wheeling the phoropter away.
Lourdes squinted to adjust her focus. “Yes. Light, wind or air conditioners easily irritate them.”
“Probably due to dryness.” His voice became sympathetic, as if he tried to soften a blow. “Or ageing.”
It was on the tip of her tongue to say she wasn’t old, but then she remembered Dr. Bouwer had access to her medical records.
“I need to swipe this over your eye,” he said, holding up a strip of paper. “It won’t hurt.” He put his forefinger under her chin. “Lift your head.”
Lourdes obeyed, staring anywhere but at him as he gently opened her eye with his index finger and thumb. Won’t hurt? It felt as if he had cut through her retina with a scalpel. She cried out softly.
“Sorry,” he mumbled, keeping the piece of paper in place. “I touched the corner of the phenol to your eye. Are you fine?”
The genuine tone of concern touched her. “Don’t worry about it. My eyes are very sensitive.”
He removed the strip and handed her a tissue as he peered down at her face. “I’m impressed, Ms. March. You have very good eyes.”
“Really?” She dabbed at the tears running down her cheek. The more she tried to contain them, the faster they flowed.
“You have the pret—” he cleared his throat, “eh...the best eyes I’ve seen.”
“Then what about the fine print I can’t read?”
“Normal part of the degenerative process. They’re still incredible for your age.” He patted her shoulder. “We’re almost done.” He lifted a card from the counter and held it toward her. “Read this out loud.”
Lourdes took the cardboard and squinted at it. With her eyes tearing up, she found it difficult to focus. On top of that, the text was in Spanish.
She bit her lip and looked at him.
Catching her expression, he frowned. “Read it, please.”
Lourdes shrugged. He must have his reasons for requiring the strange test. She stumbled over the pronunciation.
“Stop.”
When the next word spilled over her lips, he plucked the card from her hands and glared at it. “My apologies.”
He opened a drawer, put the card away and gave her another one in English. This time she managed to read through her blinking.
Dr. Bouwer seemed satisfied when she was done. “You don’t need glasses yet. They make the eye muscles lazy. Hold out for another year.”
“Thank you.” She started to get up.
“Wait.” He sat down on the stool again. His voice was soft when he said, “I really irritated your eye. Would you like me to give you some artificial tears?”
“What?” She blinked faster in a futile effort to dispel her weeping.
“Artificial tears,” he repeated.
“Yes, thank you.”
He gave her a satisfied nod and took a bottle from the shelf next to him. She lifted her head for him, and he stretched her eye open as if it was a delicate crystal bubble that might break. This time she didn’t look away and saw him studying her with something like curiosity.
“Truly amazing eyes,” he said, his breath warm on her face. “Perfect score.”
He smelled of the forest and mountains–fresh and outdoorsy.
“Almost perfect,” she corrected.
“It wasn’t to the tests I referred, Ms. March.”
As she tried to analyze his words, he leaned forward to administer the drop. Their knees touched. A bolt rushed through Lourdes, surprising her as much as the pain the strip had caused in her eye. For all the control she possessed, she couldn’t move. Instead, she sat dead still, aware of only the small spot where his body applied pressure to hers. It should have been uncomfortable, but it was strangely comforting. And then a cold drop fell into her eye. It stung for a second before the burning eased. He repeated the process with the other eye before pushing the chair away. If he had been affected by their accidental touch, he didn’t show it.
He handed her another tissue. “All better?”
“Thank you.”
Dr. Bouwer offered her a hand when she got up. “If there’s no emergency, I’ll see you next year.”
“All right.” Lourdes picked up her bag and headed for the door. She contemplated asking about Dirk again, but glancing over her shoulder, she saw he had picked up a file from his desk. Next patient. He didn’t even offer a farewell as she quietly closed the door behind her.
What on earth was that about? Lourdes’ heart beat fast as she walked back to the car park. He probably only affected her because he looked so much like Dirk. And Dirk was a bad mistake, one best left in the past.
Inside her car, she tilted the rearview mirror and uttered a cry of shock. The whites of her eyes were bloodshot, with the left one tainted orange. Both green centers stared back at her surrounded by smeared circles of mascara. She looked like a rabid zombie. No wonder he couldn’t look at her.
~ * ~
By the fifteenth of the month, Lourdes couldn’t shake her anguish. She should have business lined up until April, but the recession slowed everything down. If something didn’t come in soon, her event organization company would be in serious trouble.
“I shouldn’t have taken on the city council account,” she said to Trudy, her assistant and only other Executive Events employee. “They never pay on time.”
“We can hold off our creditors for another few days,” Trudy offered.
Lourdes crossed her legs on her desk and chewed the end of her pencil. “I’ve put out proposals to more than fifty companies in the past two weeks and we’ve heard nothing back.”
“Why don’t you ask Dirk?” Trudy said, already looking guilty for the suggestion.
“You know I can’t speak to him.”
“I know. But he’s in the entertainment business. He’s always had plenty of contacts.”
Lourdes rolled her eyes. “He’s a professional gambler. Don’t sugarcoat it. Besides—”
The phone cut her off. Trudy replied with her practiced greeting, put her hand over the receiver and said, “It’s for you.”
“Put it through.”
Lourdes took the call, praying for a client who needed a competent event organizer.
“Ms. March?”
“Yes?”
/>
“Hi.” There was a small pause. “Dr. Bouwer here.”
Lourdes felt herself flush a little. She dropped her feet and sat up straight. Why in the world would he call her? Had he analyzed the strip and found something wrong with her eyes?
“Is something the matter?” she asked in alarm.
“No,” he said hastily, “no, nothing’s wrong, at least not with you.”
His words confused her. “Then how can I help you?”
“I honestly hope you can,” he said softly but didn’t elaborate.
A nervous laugh bubbled from her throat. “I’m not a mind reader, Dr. Bouwer.”
He hesitated again and finally blurted out, “I’d like to talk about Dirk.”
It shouldn’t have surprised her, but it did. The resemblance was too much of a coincidence. Her throat contracted. “Are you related to Dirk?”
“I think that’s obvious.”
The evasiveness of his reply didn’t please her, but she didn’t push the issue. She would not discuss her ex with him or anyone. “I have nothing to say about Dirk.”
“You dated him for two years.”
“How do you know that? Dirk never mentioned you.”
The silence stretched for a few seconds again. “I won’t lie to you. Dirk didn’t tell me. But I have other sources of information.”
“Dr. Bouwer, I don’t know what you want or what Dirk is to you, but that subject’s not on my topic list. End of discussion.”
“We’ll have to meet anyway.”
Lourdes could hear a smile in his voice. “Not for another year. And I think I’ll change doctors.”
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