Aimee (A Time for Love Book 3)

by Phelps, Brandi

  “Mozart? My favorite!” Aimee suddenly realized that Frank hadn’t seemed surprised by any of the day’s events. “You knew about all this, didn’t you?” She gestured at the crowded concert hall around them. “How’d you pull it off?”

  Frank shook his head. “I knew, but I can’t take any credit. It was all Edwina. That woman can work miracles.”

  The lights dimmed, ending their conversation, and Aimee sat back to wait for music to begin.

  Chapter 13

  When the concert was over, Frank and Aimee walked outside. Aimee was still captivated by the music, and when Frank spoke to her, she had to ask him to repeat what he’d said.

  “We have reservations for an early dinner,” he said. “Since I know you have to be at work early tomorrow.”

  Aimee thought for a second. “Would you mind if we skipped the dinner? It’s been a hectic weekend, and I’d like to do something low-key. Maybe we could pick up a quick bite? And then go somewhere to talk?”

  Like your place, she wanted to add but didn’t. Where was he staying while he was in St. Louis?

  “Are you sure? I want today to be a good date for you.”

  “It has been. I promise. I just don’t want to fall asleep over appetizers.” She stretched out one foot to show the high-heeled sandals she’d chosen that morning. “And I want to take these off. I didn’t know I’d be walking in them all day!”

  “Okay, if you’re sure. I’ll cancel the reservation.”

  Frank pulled a cell phone out of his pocket, and Aimee realized it was the first time she’d seen him use one. She couldn’t get the number until she and Frank entered Phase 3, according to A Time for Love’s rules, but soon she’d be able to call and text him like a normal boyfriend.

  He turned away from her and spoke into the phone. Then he made a second call. Aimee waited, shifting her weight as she tried to ease the discomfort of her shoes. When he turned around, he was already loosening his tie.

  “Are you hungry?” he asked.

  Aimee was surprised to find that she was. A small sandwich and a plateful of desserts didn’t hold up well. “Yes.”

  “There’s a little bistro nearby that serves excellent soup and salads. Are you up for walking a couple of blocks?”

  Aimee reached down and slipped off her shoes. “I am now.”

  They found the restaurant with no difficulty. It was practically empty, and they chose a table near the window. They ate soup with homemade bread, and when they finished, they lingered over cups of coffee.

  “I’m supposed to tell you my definition of love,” Frank said. He was looking down at his coffee and didn’t meet her eyes.

  “Didn’t we already cover that? You said it’s having someone who’s always ready to help you.”

  “That was marriage. This time I’m supposed to explain more of an emotion.” He refused to look at her, and Aimee guessed he’d rather be hauling hay or picking cotton or whatever hard labor he did on the farm than having this conversation.

  “It’s okay, you don’t have to.”

  “Yes, I do.” He took a breath. “To me, love is a lot of things—caring, companionship, attraction, respect. But what makes it truly a marriage-level love is the desire to be what the other person needs and the belief that she can be what you need, or if you’re fully committed to each other, become what the other person needs. If that makes sense?”

  Aimee nodded. “I think so. You’re saying love is a force of transformation—it changes each person according to what the other needs.”

  “Wow, you expressed it much better than I could,” Frank said. “Do you agree?”

  “I’ll have to think about it,” Aimee said slowly. “That type of change could either be wonderful or really scary. I do agree that a relationship dies when it becomes one-sided.”

  “Is that what happened in your last relationship?”

  “My only relationship. Until now. Yes. Mostly, anyway. I kept trying to change myself to fit what I thought he wanted, and I didn’t notice that he’d stopped paying attention to what I wanted. Then, in the end, he rejected me anyway.”

  Aimee was still analyzing all the reasons she and Tom had broken up. She didn’t mind talking about it with Frank, but she didn’t want to be one of those girls who constantly compared her current date to her ex. Her memories of her last interactions with Tom still stung, but the deep pain was fading, faster than she’d expected.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. It was my fault too. I let myself be treated like I didn’t matter, as if I only existed for his convenience.”

  She couldn’t keep the tinge of bitterness out of her voice, and Frank reached across the table to take her hand. “I hope you’ll never settle for that type of relationship again.”

  “I won’t.”

  Their eyes met, and Aimee felt like Frank was looking at her, really seeing her, in a way no one had done for years, if ever. She waited, hardly breathing, until he leaned forward and said, “I don’t know if I’m what you need. You deserve someone braver, stronger, better. But I promise I will never treat you as if you don’t matter.”

  The simple statement touched Aimee, and, to her embarrassment, she felt her eyes filling with tears. She pulled away and bent over her purse to extract a tissue. She pressed it against her eyes and, when that didn’t stop the tears, she turned away from Frank and stood up.

  “Maybe we’d better wait outside. Didn’t you say Edwina’s sending a car?”

  “Yes. We’re supposed to meet it at the corner in ten minutes.”

  Frank paid their check, and they walked to the corner without speaking. By the time they climbed into the back seat of the black sedan the car service had sent, Aimee had regained control of her emotions. Frank had left a gap between them in the seat, and he was careful not to brush against her.

  “I apologize for bringing back painful memories,” he said stiffly.

  Aimee scooted closer to him. “You didn’t. Okay, maybe a little, but mostly it was you.”

  “Me?”

  “You. In a good way.”

  He smiled, and she nestled against him as the car wove through the downtown streets. She didn’t pay attention to where they were going, and when the car stopped outside her apartment building, she sat up with a start. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to zone out on you.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Frank said. “We’ll have another chance to talk soon. For now, you need to get your rest.”

  Aimee could hardly argue, since she’d been fighting sleep the whole drive home. Frank insisted on seeing her to her apartment. He stepped inside with her and glanced around to be sure everything was all right.

  “Thank you for a wonderful date,” she said.

  “I’m looking forward to seeing what you’ll plan for our next one.”

  He kissed her lightly and was gone before she could say good night. She closed and locked the door and sank onto the couch. She wanted to daydream about Frank or call all her friends to brag to them about her awesome boyfriend. But she was an adult, not a teenager, and she had responsibilities, so she chose a shower and bed instead, pausing only to text Tish and Charlene, “Had a wonderful date. Think Frank could be the 1!!!”

  The next day, work was unusually tense. The dining services manager was in a meeting, and the mood in the kitchen seemed strained. But Aimee didn’t care. She was still drifting in a cloud of contentment from her date. She needed to plan their next one. Sky diving? A fancy dinner? Should she cook? Or show him she had other interests too?

  She hadn’t decided anything by the time the lunch service ended. She and the other line cooks were cleaning their stations when the manager returned.

  “Emergency meeting, my office, five minutes,” he said crisply.

  Aimee exchanged glances with her closest coworker, a twentyish girl named Leigh, who had blond hair tipped with pink. What was happening? They finished their tasks, washed their hands, and along with the four other workers still on the clock,
crowded into the boss’s office.

  Her boss was Mr. McKuen, a lean, fortysomething man with scholarly spectacles. He looked perpetually stressed, and today the lines on his forehead appeared even deeper. He fiddled with a pen at his desk while he glanced at each of them.

  “I’m sorry to spring this on you,” he said. “I want you to know I appreciate all of you. We’ve done well. Maintained a reasonable degree of patient satisfaction on the meagre budget they give us. But it’s not enough.” He took a deep breath. “The hospital has decided to cut our department. They’ve contracted with a private company that provides corporate and institutional dining services.”

  The room was silent. The employees stood stunned. No one had expected this upheaval.

  “If you still want to work here, you’ll have to apply for a job with the new company,” Mr. McKuen continued. “Most likely, they’ll hire at least some of you. I wish I could guarantee you’d all have a job, but—“ he shrugged. “Consider this your two weeks’ notice as a hospital employee. We’ll get the official paperwork tomorrow, but I thought you should know.”

  The office erupted in a babble of questions, and Mr. McKuen held up his hand. “One at a time, please.”

  After he’d answered the questions as best he could, he dismissed the meeting. Aimee and Leigh walked out together.

  “I can’t lose my job!” Leigh wailed. “I have student loans to pay back!”

  “We just have to convince the new company to hire us,” Aimee said brightly, but privately, she was panicking too.

  What if she lost her job? How could she pay her lease? She hadn’t hunted for a new job in years. She’d have to work on her résumé, get references, search job websites. She so didn’t need the stress. Especially when she wanted to focus on Frank.

  When she got home, she paced her apartment. She wanted to talk to Frank, but she didn’t have his contact information yet, because of Edwina’s silly rules. Dana was still on an extended honeymoon, which left Tish and Charlene. She texted them both, to tell them the bad news.

  Tish texted back, “Meet us at The Back Alley at 7.”

  Aimee hesitated. If she was losing her job, luxuries like a cappuccino at Tish’s favorite coffee shop didn’t fit her budget. But she didn’t want to sit home alone, so she agreed to meet them. Meanwhile, she cleaned her apartment. Her phantom roommate Mandy had left a pile of suitcases and bags in one corner of the bedroom, and she vacuumed around them, careful not to disturb them. The last thing she needed was to give the other girl an excuse not to keep paying half the rent, although really it was unfair to take her money when Mandy wasn’t actually living here. Still, based on what Tish had said, the girl could afford it, and Aimee was in no position to turn down the extra cash.

  I won’t need this apartment or a roommate, if I get married. The thought crept through her anxiety and offered a ray of hope for her future. If her relationship with Frank was headed in the direction it appeared to be, maybe she wouldn’t need to worry about her living arrangements. Or even a job. Although it might mean moving to Frank’s farm. Where had he said it was? Alabama?

  Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. It could even be nice. Lush acres of green pastureland with cotton or corn or whatever they grew. Farm animals and fresh milk. No traffic. No schedule. She could whip up homemade cakes in a farmhouse kitchen and take them to church picnics and PTO bake sales. Little Frank Jr. and Aimee Lou would run through the kitchen, glowing from playing in the fresh air and eating home-grown vegetables, and she and Frank would rock on the porch and watch the sunset.

  Okay, she didn’t actually have a very clear idea of what farm life really was, but at least the cows couldn’t fire you. The corn didn’t grow itself. That had to be a type of security. Although Frank had said he was willing to move to St. Louis. What would he do here? What was he doing here, besides waiting for the next date?

  Which brought her back to the date she needed to plan. Her thoughts continued to go in circles. She fixed herself a quick sandwich and headed out to meet her friends. Tish had already found a table at The Back Alley, a neighborhood coffee shop the girls often visited. She was chatting with the shop’s owner Kyle, who appeared much friendlier to Tish now that she was engaged. Tish had flirted with him unsuccessfully in the past. When he spotted Aimee, he waved in a greeting. “What’ll you have?”

  “Just a small cup of coffee.”

  “She’ll have a mocha latte,” Tish corrected. “On me,” she added firmly as Aimee started to object.

  Charlene joined them a few minutes later, still in her suit from work. She ordered a cup of hot tea, set her briefcase beside her chair, and reached over to give Aimee a quick hug. “We’re so sorry about your job!”

  Tish murmured agreement but then added, “But you don’t really like it anyway, do you?”

  “It’s okay,” Aimee shrugged. “After Tom’s and my catering business went under, I needed something stable.”

  “And now it’s no longer stable,” Charlene pointed out.

  Kyle personally delivered their drinks, and Aimee inhaled the rich coffee smells. She took a quick, cautious taste of her latte and savored the chocolate flavor. Charlene sipped the herbal brew she’d chosen, and Tish waited until they both turned their attention to her.

  “We’ve decided you need help, Aimee,” she said. She waved away the objection forming on Aimee’s lips. “Not because you’re weak or helpless. Just because you’re going through major life changes, and you’re fortunate enough to have wonderful friends with expertise in areas you need help with. I’ll be your official date planner, and Charlene will be playing the role of career coach.”

  “That’s not necessary. I know you’re busy planning your wedding, and Charlene’s got tons of work. I can figure it out.”

  “Maybe you can, but you don’t have to. Not alone, anyway. We’re not taking over, just helping,” Tish promised. “We want to help you figure out the best way to make both the date and the job hunt successful. Besides, Lucas wants you and Frank to end up together. He says he needs a friend here.”

  “You guys are so great. I’m so lucky to have you,” Aimee said, swallowing tears. The support of her friends made her feel less like hiding out in her apartment or running back home to her mother.

  “We’re lucky to have each other. Dana would help too, if she were here.”

  “Where is she now?” Charlene asked.

  “In France. She and Benjy have turned their honeymoon into a world tour of Hilbrand’s locations. She sent me a pic from Nice.” Tish tapped buttons on her phone and showed them a photo of Dana and Benjamin in front of an elegant Hilbrand’s sign. The couple was smiling, and Dana had evidently captured the image with her phone.

  “Lucky girl,” Charlene said.

  “Lucky guy,” Tish returned, and they all agreed.

  “You’re next,” Charlene reminded her.

  “If I can ever pull together this wedding.” Tish turned to Aimee. “I have an event I have to run tomorrow night, so Charlene’s coming over to help you start your job search. Then I’ll be over Wednesday night to help you plan your date.”

  “Thanks,” Aimee repeated.

  The conversation turned to other topics, and they continued chatting until Charlene glanced at her watch and stood up. “Sorry to break this up, but I have a load of case notes I need to review tonight.”

  “And I need to call Lucas.” Tish hugged Aimee. “It’ll all work out. You’ll see,” she promised, and Aimee nodded.

  But when she returned to her silent, empty apartment, she wasn’t so sure.

  Chapter 14

  The dining staff worked in silence the next day. The workers who hadn’t attended Mr. McKuen’s impromptu meeting learned of the staffing cuts from their fellow employees, and even Leigh, typically very talkative, went about her duties without comment. Aimee worked the breakfast shift, and as she was preparing to leave, Mr. McKuen called her aside.

  “Here’s the official notification,” he told her as
he handed her a white envelope. “One of the HR reps will meet with everyone later this week.” He paused. “Aimee, you’ve been an excellent worker. I’ll be happy to provide you with a reference.”

  “Thank you.”

  Aimee waited until she was sitting in her car before she opened the envelope. She knew what it would say, but seeing it laid out in print somehow seemed much more final, particularly the ominous words “termination date.” Two weeks wasn’t much time, and her stomach clenched with anxiety as she drove home. She did her laundry and then decided to cook for Charlene. If her friend was coming over to help her, the least she deserved was a home-cooked meal.

  She made a vegetable soup with freshly baked flat bread and sliced fruit for dessert, much healthier than the comfort food she would otherwise have chosen. Charlene sniffed appreciatively when she entered the apartment.

  “Something smells delicious, but you didn’t have to cook for me.”

  “It’s the least I can do. It’s soup, so we can eat any time.”

  “Why not now, before we get started?”

  Aimee had hoped she’d say that. The women sat at the table in Aimee’s combination living and dining room, and Charlene sighed as she tasted a spoonful of soup.

  “Mmm, tastes as good as it smells. I’ve eaten at the hospital cafeteria before, and I know this isn’t one of their soup recipes!”

  “No, it’s mine,” Aimee said.

  “Hmm.”

  Charlene didn’t say anything else, just finished her bowl of soup. After their fruit, she helped Aimee with the dishes, and they returned to the living room for a strategy session. Charlene opened the briefcase she’d brought with her and pulled out a legal pad and pen. She appeared so professional, so confident in her abilities and achievements, that Aimee was suddenly embarrassed to discuss the sad state of her own career.

  “What do you like about your current job?” Charlene began.

  “I like to cook, so I enjoy working with food. Sometimes I get to plan out the menus. And I like knowing that people feel better after they’ve eaten my food.”