She looked quickly around the other tables and decided that had to be where the party was. She took her time, her eyes moving from one man to the next, wondering which one was Rafe. Theft their eyes met across the room. He had been watching her the entire time. This one had been expecting someone. This one with the magnetic eyes that said: It's about time you got here. That was Rafe. Bob had been right. She did know him now that she saw him.
A host of emotions assailed her. Exultation, curiosity, delight, a prickly anger that he had made her wait until this moment and in this way to find out who he was, and an overwhelming relief that finally she knew who he was. Of course, R.C.— Rafe Chancellor. She stepped forward to meet him.
Chapter Six
Rafe stood at Lacey's approach. Several at the table turned to see whom he was looking at as she walked over to him and held out her hand.
"Rafe," she said, her eyes dancing, her heart beating fast.
He took her hand and covered it with his other one, drawing her next to him, and gently kissed her on the cheek.
Lacey blushed, wishing they didn't have an audience for this first real meeting. Then again, the way her blood was racing just from the looks he was giving her, it was probably safer that way. His touch excited her, the way his gentleness and strength had the other day at the airport. He had long since captured her imagination with the letters and flowers and tapes, and the way he had brought her to him tonight impressed her. That had even been unique. She no longer minded the mystery now that she knew who had been waiting for her at the other end.
Who are these people? she wondered. How much do they know about me and Rafe?
Rafe sensed her racing pulse and breathlessness. He kept her hand in his as he turned toward his friends and introduced her. "Lacey, I'd like you to meet my friends…" He went around the table naming people whom Lacey knew she'd never remember. She'd just have to ask for names a second time if she found herself spending a lot of time talking to anyone other than Rafe tonight. "Everyone, I'd like you to meet Lacey Adams." She smiled as she noticed Patricia and George and Amy with her husband.
There were choruses of "Glad to meet you" and "Welcome" and "Hello".
Lacey smiled.
Rafe pulled out the chair next to him for Lacey, and thanked Bob for picking her up. He apologized to her for not doing it himself, but explained that as the organizer of this group he had had to arrive early and thought she would appreciate having a longer time to get ready. "What would you like to drink?" he finally asked her as he sat down again next to her. Everyone started talking as they had been doing before her arrival.
Her mind was a blank. All she could see, think, feel, was Rafe Chancellor. "Anything," she said. "Suggest something. I can't think."
He named several hard-liquor drinks. She shook her head. He laughed. "Give me a hint, then. What do you like to drink?"
"Something fruity. Something that doesn't taste like what it's made of."
"How about vodka and grapefruit juice?"
"Fine," she said, still staring at him idiotically, as if he were a foreign film in a cinema and she was the only one in the audience.
He laughed at the look she gave him, which made her blush more. Raising his hand, he signaled to the cocktail waitress and placed her order.
Lacey discovered she was still holding his hand even though they were now seated together. She leaned on his arm and placed her mouth near his ear to say, "I'm very happy to meet you, Rafe Chancellor. You kept me in suspense long enough."
"I know," he said, smiling. "It was devilish of me, wasn't it? But fun."
She laughed. "I want you to know I loved the flowers and the letters and the tape. You're quite an imaginative person. Do you approach every woman you want to go out with that way? I mean, did I get a form letter?"
He smiled and shook his head.
"Then why me, why that way?"
His grin widened. "From what George told me, I figured I was dealing with a creative woman. I'd also seen that article about you and the boutique in the paper a few weeks ago. Of course I didn't realize at the time who you were or that I'd even have the opportunity of meeting you. So I sat down and tried to approach the situation from the standpoint of a designer."
"You did well," she said, approval stamped all over her face. "Except for the part about making me redo my postcard."
"That was a mistake," he admitted. "I realize now I was pushing you too far. And it could easily have been my loss if you had cut me off right at that point. If I had it to do over, knowing more about who you are the way I did after meeting you in Atlanta, I wouldn't have taken that risk. It did teach me something, though."
"What?"
"You're an independent woman. You might go along with something I suggest, but you have a mind of your own and you're going to do things your way."
She raised her eyebrows. An accurate assessment. She would not be stepped on again by any man, even one who seemed as delightfully original as this one. "You're lucky I sent the card back in the first place," she said.
"I know," he said, stroking her wrist, then dropping her hands as the cocktail waitress walked over to the table with her drink. "I'm so glad you could join me tonight," he said when the waitress had left.
"I didn't want to," she admitted. "If there had been any way I could have tactfully gotten out of it, I would have."
He nodded. "I lost my momentum when I split for Atlanta. But I couldn't put the trip off. It was something that had come up before I started my letters to you. I had no idea it would take so long to get you to send the card back."
"It wasn't just that," she said, taking a sip from the drink and deciding it wasn't too bad.
"What, then?"
"I met someone who struck me as being more interesting."
His eyebrows went up, but he didn't ask her to reveal who this other man was.
Tactful of him, she thought. Diplomatic. The gentleman side of his nature coming through. A gentleman doesn't ask a lady about her past affairs; he only assumes, rightfully in this case, that there was no one of any significance before he came along. She smiled, wondering how long she could tease him about this other man. What was the point in playing games when there were so many more important things she wanted to know about him? She leaned on his arm again and said, "I loved the Stetson!"
He smiled, realizing the other man had been himself.
She grinned, pleased to be sitting next to this man, surprised that although it was their first date they seemed to have known each other for years. Yet at the same time there seemed to be a world of discovery ahead for them. If she read his interest in her correctly, he was as eager to know more about her as she was him.
Someone interrupted them then, and Lacey found herself with no one to talk to as Rafe answered a question a friend across the table asked. The woman seated nearest to Lacey spoke up. "Rafe's such a nice man. Have you known him long?"
Lacey shook her head. So he hadn't told the table all the intimate details of how he had written to her and how this was their first date. She looked at him now, admiring his profile with the strong jawline, well-shaped nose and wide forehead. "Just. long enough to draw that same conclusion."
"He's not like some of these guys," the woman said, smiling affectionately to her left. "You won't be bored. You got a good dinner companion. All the women usually try to sit next to him because he's such a good conversationalist."
"Doesn't his date usually object?"
"You're the first date he's had since he's been back in the area." The woman spoke a little softer as she asked, "You know he has a little girl?"
Lacey nodded.
The woman smiled. "He's brought her as a date to some of these social functions. You should see Angela with her father. She's only eleven, but she really plays the role of 'lady' when she's on her father's arm."
How nice, Lacey thought. "They must be close."
"Very," the woman answered. "He spends an awful lot of time with her when she'
s living with him. I think he misses her quite a bit. I know Angela because we were in a car pool together. My daughter's a couple of years younger."
Someone attracted the woman's attention and then Rafe was staring at Lacey again, touching her hand, as if he couldn't quite believe she was sitting next to him. And Lacey needed his touch as much.
"Why didn't you tell me who you were when you met me on the plane?" she asked.
"It didn't fit the script," he said, smiling. "I already knew at that point you were going to go out with me. After I saw you and had a chance to talk with you, I was sure I was going to have a good time, but I wasn't certain how you were going to feel about going out with me. It seemed safer this way, from my point of view, not to tell you who I was. I didn't intend to deceive you."
"I still can't get over that it was a coincidence;— flying home on the same plane, and right next to you." She saw his smile increase, the delight showing on his face. "It wasn't a coincidence! How did you know I was flying home from Atlanta that day?"
He laughed. "That much was coincidence. The seat part wasn't. I had the ticket agent change both our seats."
"You mean you knew who I was when I walked into the waiting area? But we'd never met."
"I had seen that article about you in the paper a few weeks ago. But I didn't think anything of it until George told me about you."
Lacey sat back, impressed. He knew so much more about her than she did about him. Now, here they were being interrupted again by his friends when she wanted to steal him away to herself and spend the rest of the night talking.
While he spoke to the couple on the other side of him, she took time to glance around the table again at the other couples. It was flattering that he had enough confidence in her, practically sight unseen, to bring her into his circle of friends on this first date. He was treating her as an equal, someone he was proud to have for pleasurable company.
She was smiling as he turned back to her. "I still don't understand the reason for the mail approach. Why not just call me?"
"A long time ago I faced the fact that I look the way I do and nothing was going to change it. The direct approach hasn't been one hundred percent successful in the past."
Lacey looked at that scar again, wanting to wince because of the pain the wound must have caused. How could she tell him she liked his strong features without him thinking the comment wasn't calculated? But it was something that she felt. "I think you're a beautiful person," she said, and she wasn't referring to his physical appearance. "You did prove that with your letters and all the time you spent working up to this introduction."
He touched her hand again as if to reassure himself that she was real and sitting next to him. "I can't believe I was so lucky as to have George find you for me."
"You'd better not say that yet," she said, grinning. "You haven't learned any of my bad traits."
"There probably aren't any."
"That's hopeful thinking," she said, pleased by his flattery.
The cocktail waitress approached the table again and everyone placed second orders for drinks before dinner. Lacey sat back and let Rafe order for her. It had been a long time since she had had someone do that. Usually on those infrequent occasions when she went into a bar for a drink, it was with a group of girlfriends. They were the ones who ended up with dates for the evening, but she never found anyone who suited her, and actually preferred going home alone. But it did mean she ordered a lot of drinks herself.
"Tell me something," Lacey asked when she got Rafe's attention again sometime later. "When you wrote me the card introducing yourself to me, you said that one of your hobbies was cutting the grass. You can't be serious."
"As such, no, I don't enjoy that task. But it all depends on your point of view."
"You didn't explain that in the letter," Lacey said. She played with the frost forming on her glass, wanting to know everything about this man, yet hoping she wasn't sounding as if she was playing Twenty Questions.
"What I do enjoy is sitting on the tractor mower, going around and around the grounds, realizing I own a piece of earth. It gives me a lot of freedom to think. That's what I like about it."
She nodded. His attitude generated more respect. He was a complex man. She sat silently for a while as he was distracted by someone else across the table. She felt overwhelmed. There was so much to know about Rafe, so many potentially exciting discoveries ahead for her with him. What astonished her more than anything was the feeling that he was having the same emotional excitement about her that she was about him.
Even in the short while they had been speaking together, and from their time together on the airplane, it seemed as if their minds worked along the same paths. They didn't need to make long explanations to one another about the meanings behind a statement or idea. It was as if they already understood the level on which they both spoke. Kismet.
Lacey grinned, pleased just to be sitting next to him. It pleased her to be the chosen one of this person so many people revered and respected. He was practically a legend, and she was at his right hand—at least for tonight.
"Excuse me, will you?" Rafe said to Lacey, getting up and touching her shoulder as he leaned down to talk to her. "I should go check on the status of dinner. I won't be long."
When he left, Lacey looked down to the end of the table. Catching Patricia's eye, she smiled as if to say. You and George were right—he's terrific. She looked around her at the couples close by and listened in for the most likely conversation she could join.
"Where are you from, Lacey?" one of the wives or girlfriends—Lacey couldn't tell which—asked.
"I'm from Mississippi," Lacey answered. "But I've only been living on the Coast about five years."
She was going to ask where the woman was from, but before she could, another woman asked, "What kind of work do you do?"
"I have a dress boutique," she answered. "Lacey's Designs. I also do original designs."
"Not that new shop I read about in the paper!" the woman said, patting the arm of the woman next to her. "This is the girl who runs that new boutique in that cute little Victorian house I told you about," she said.
"How nice," the other woman answered. "I've always wanted to go in there. But I guess I thought it was going to be too expensive."
Lacey laughed, slightly embarrassed by the woman's bluntness. "I hope it gives that impression," she said, smiling. "And I guess some of my originals are expensive, but I also carry a line of dresses and sportswear that costs no more than what you'd pay in some of the shops in the mall. You'll have to come by. Just to browse. Don't ever feel as if you have to buy something just because you walked in the door. I always enjoy window-shopping myself more than anything else. It gives you a chance to dream."
"We'll have to come by, then, won't we, Myrtle?"
Lacey registered the name and repeated it. Myrtle. Try not to forget that. If Lacey listened carefully enough and waited long enough, she might find out who the other woman was as well.
"Have you known Rafe long?" the other woman asked.
Lacey smiled; he had created quite a bit of curiosity. "Not long," she answered. "How about you?"
"It doesn't take long to get to know Rafe," Myrtle answered. "Although I suspect he keeps a lot to himself."
"In what way?" Lacey asked, hungry for any insights into the man who was her date.
"He's the type who'll do anything for you. But he has his private side. I don't think he lets very many people into his private world, in spite of his friendliness."
"Very particular, too," the other woman commented, and smiled at Lacey. "Just look at you. He waits all these months before he brings a date with him, but when he does, he doesn't just pick anybody off the street."
Lacey smiled; they approved of her. "Thank you. I'm happy to be here this evening. But I feel a little out of place not knowing anyone's name."
"That's okay," Myrtle said. "We'll help you out."
"I'm happy to meet you again," La
cey said, holding out her hand across the table to shake hers. "It's so nice of you to accept me so readily."
"If Rafe has picked you, you have to be special," Myrtle said, and winked.
Rafe returned just then. Lacey watched him stride across the room. He was wearing full military dress this evening, and the dark jacket gave his shoulders a broad look and seemed to emphasize his towering height. She thought back to her image of him as a beanpole and decided he had more of a reedlike frame, not at all unattractive.
"What's the occasion tonight?" Lacey asked when he sat next to her again. Some of the others were dressed in uniform, some were not.
"We just picked a date and decided to have a reunion. It happens periodically in different parts of the country. This time it just happened to be near me."
He started telling her then in low tones who each man was and how he had served with or come to meet him. "Most of them are my closest friends," he told her. "Moving as much as you do with the military life-style, you tend to keep up with the people of your past. Otherwise you lose your past. It's like a living scrapbook. We remind each other of the things that happened between us."
"Is A. J. Tell here?" she asked. "Or… What were the other names on the list?"
He grinned. "No, they're not here. They couldn't make it. Did you call them?"
"I called A.J. I never did get any farther down the list."
"What did A.J. say to you?"
"He laughed," she said. "I woke the poor man up. I suppose I was lucky that he thought it was funny."
"That sounds like A.J. But didn't you learn anything about me from him?"
"A little," Lacey admitted. "He kept saying, 'He's the best.'" She smiled. A.J. hadn't been far wrong.
Lacey wished she could get Rafe alone. But there would be time enough for that later. She somehow felt this was a beginning, and a monumental beginning at that. It was fitting that it should have occurred in such style. There were all the personal invitations, the car and driver, and now a party to celebrate their meeting, even if that hadn't been the original intention.
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