by Angela Hayes
Slowly he smiled. “I don’t think so.”
I feigned wiping sweat from my brow. “Good, because I really hate saying, ‘I’m sorry’. And I did try. I talked to your cousin, the maid of honor, just a few days before the wedding. I was waiting on her to do the right thing. She didn‘t and I ran out of time.”
“I see.”
As silence fell once again, a thought occurred to me. I looked around. The only people left were my sisters- who were around here somewhere, the caterer’s people, and a scattering of couples on their way out. “Where’s your mom?”
Lifting his head Danton looked around as I had, unsure. “I don’t know,” He took a few steps out the back door, scanned the leftover cars, and shrugged. “Huh!”
“What?”
“I rode with her.”
I didn’t even try to hide the smile that came at the realization that we’d been duped, again. “Looks like you need a ride.”
“Looks like.” He agreed.
It also looked like it would be my turn to repay the favor done by Everett. My compliments went out to Hope, she had planned this ambush well, very well indeed.
“Do you mind waiting while I change?” I asked, looking down at the skirt of my now wrinkled gown. “I can’t drive in this. I promise it won’t take long.”
“No, go on.”
“I’m starving. We could, we could grab something to eat if you like.” It was pushing two o’clock and my breakfast was long gone, the paltry snack only serving to tease my taste buds. “Wendy’s drive thru?” I suggested, doing my best not to pressure Danton into anything.
“Actually, I know a great little place. That is, if you’re free?”
“I’m free.” I nodded, hoping I didn’t sound as desperate as I felt. “Um, I’ll change. Be right back. Allie will keep you company.”
I paced myself until I was out of sight. Then took the stairs as fast as the dress would allow, which wasn’t much.
****
“Hope,” I hissed, walking into her room. “Hope.”
“Why are you whispering?’ Hope’s voice boomed behind me, causing me to jump.
“You know why I’m whispering.” I accused, using the same low voice.
“Well, you don’t need to.” As evidence Hope gestured to the now closed door.
“Oh.” With nothing better to say I turned around. “Unzip me.”
“Going somewhere?”
“As a matter of fact I am. It seems that Danton’s date has left him stranded. I
offered to play Good Samaritan.”
“How nice of you?” Hope replied blandly as I stepped out of one dress and into another.
“I know, isn’t it?”
Hope examined her nails as I redressed. “Are you going to thank me?”
“Sure. Right after I come up with your payment and you follow through.”
“That or you could just name your first kid after me.” Hope offered, trying to weasel her way out of what lay ahead. “Hope DeAngelo has a catchy ring to it.”
“Nice try.” I already had a few names in mind and Hope was not one of them.
“It was worth a shot. But come on, you know you were already trying to figure out another way to meet him. I just saved you the effort.”
Zipping the garment bag closed, I kissed Hope on the cheek. “Of course you did. Thank you for that.”
“You’re welcome.” Hope replied, only slightly mollified.
“How do you feel about bungee jumping?” I asked, as I left the room.
“It’s something only fools do. Why?”
“Hmmm, just a thought. Wondering if you were feeling foolish?” I breezed out of the room whistling. Let her chew on that.
“Hey, you ready?” I asked Danton, walking back into the kitchen.
“Yep.”
Stepping onto the patio I dug my sunglasses and keys out of my purse.
“Since you don’t need an apology and I hate giving them, how I about I make it up to you in another way?”
“What did you have in mind?”
My heart did a double thump as Danton flashed me a sexy smile. Looks like chemistry wouldn’t be problem between us after all. I blushed. “For starters, how about I let you drive?” Clicking the remote to unlock the doors I tossed him the keys, opening the driver’s side door of my Alpha for him.
“You’re kidding!”
“Nope, come on.”
“Ah man, I think I love you.”
Danton didn’t realize how prophetic his words were. “Not yet, but you will.” I whispered, closing the door for him.
Chapter 27
Twenty Questions (More or Less)
Love
One hell of a ride later Danton pulled into the parking lot of a little shanty; a sign out front boasting they were the home of the best blue crabs in the state.
“How do you feel about crabs?” He asked, a grin on his perfect face as he shut off the engine.
“As long as you keep ‘em to yourself I won’t complain. But it sounds like a personal problem, one you might want to see your doctor about.” I teased.
Danton rolled his eyes. “I was talking about the kind you eat.”
“I know.” Shutting the passenger door I held my hands out for the keys, taking the opportunity I closed my hand around his fingers, electricity zinging up my arm, and didn’t let go. His hand felt so good in mine. “I just thought I’d let you know where I stood on the issue, just in case. I mean, don’t take it personally or anything. I’m sure it wasn’t your fault.”
“My fault,” Danton demanded in a hushed whisper, opening the door for me. “I don’t have crabs!”
“Whoa, back up there sonny. That’s getting ahead of yourself. I’m just here for the food.” I joked, knowing all along what he was talking about.
“Wise guy ‘eh?”
“I thought it was funny.” I snorted as we stepped into the Old Bay scented room.
In my personally written book of love, there were only two sure fire ways to reassure a call back following a perspective date, not that I dated a whole lot. Because really, who had a need to go through that particular hell when one had a pipe line to the powers that be and only needed to exercise a little patience until “The One“ came along. But still, witty banter and well placed sexual innuendos, when used correctly in combination with intelligence and confidence, resulted in a nine to one first date ratio call back. Pretty good odds if I do say so myself.
Dropping Danton’s hand I slid into the opposite side of the brown paper topped booth.
“Two bushels of steamed crabs and a pitcher of beer okay with you?”
“Perfect.” I nodded to the waitress who was standing by to take our order. “So, is this business or pleasure?” I asked when we were alone.
“Pleasure. I don’t know if it can ever be business, with what happened and all.”
“That’s fair enough. I don’t need you for your business Danton, though it would’ve been an added perk.” Besides, as long as our meeting was for pleasure, that meant there was always a chance that our future would work out like it was supposed to.
“So, tell me what you do. Beside crashing weddings and playing the harp like a goddess that is.”
Be still my beating heart, he a called me a goddess. “My paying occupation?” I clarified with a grin.
“Yes, what is your paying occupation?”
“Senior consultant and President of the Art and Antiquities Museum in Baltimore. But then you already knew that.”
“Just making small talk. That’s a pretty lofty position for someone as young as you are. What are you? Twenty?”
I guess he didn’t read the file or he’d have known he was off by a few years. “Twenty five and I’m very good at what I do.” Firsthand knowledge of things most historians guessed at was a definite plus. “So what about you? What’s your paying occupation?” I asked, playing along.
“Chief Operating Officer for DeAngelo International.”
; “Nice.”
“Yeah well, my father owns the place.”
“But you’re qualified for the job, or else you wouldn’t have it, right?”
“Right. Family is important to my father, but not at the expense of stupidity. What do your sisters do?”
“Hope has her matchmaking business, True Blue, and she occasionally appraises any jewelry that Faith brings home. Along with her business degree, she’s got her Masters in gemology. Plus there are the endorsements Allie brings in. Faith is a freelance curatorial consultant and genealogist.” I paused as the waitress returned, setting a steaming pan of seafood between us. “She’s linked a great many well rooted family trees. She’s also an artisan. When she’s not tied to the family Bible, you can find her tied to her loom or crochet hook. She sells her pieces at a nifty little shop up town. Next question. What kind of wheels do you drive?”
“I’ve recently begun to consider upgrading to an Alpha Romeo, but until then I’m stuck with my measly old Maserati Gran Turismo S.”
“I do enjoy a good Italian sports car.” I waited until Danton had taken a healthy
swallow of his beer before adding, “There’s nothing like a good ride. Those pistons moving together, racing up and down. Technology at its best.” I stared over Danton’s shoulder trying to keep a straight face as I ran my finger around the rim of my glass. When I had myself composed to the point where I could look at Danton without bursting
into laughter I turned my attention back to his magnificent face. His dark eyes had dilated with sexual interest, his face tinged with blush. “So, what your favorite invention?”
“Uh, my uh, favorite invention? Hmm, well pistons are the only thing that pops into my mind. I can’t say that I’ve really given it that much thought. You?”
I couldn’t help myself, confident there was a devil inside me somewhere poking me with his pitchfork. “There are so many. Telephone, running water, electricity, but I’m thinking central heat and air. The air to cool you down when you’re feeling all hot and bothered, the heat to make your feel and nice and toasty when it’s cold outside.”
“That’s a, that’s a good one.” Danton stuttered, pulling himself together admirably. “Siblings other than Hope and Faith?”
“Nope. You?” I asked, reaching for another spice covered crustacean, setting it in front of me.
“Only child.”
“I’m sorry.”
“After meeting Hope, I’m not.”
“She can be devious, like most brothers and sisters can. But she will pay.” I reassured him.
“How does it work?” Danton asked, leaning in close, his voice a curious whisper, “Can you read each other’s minds and stuff? Feel each other’s pain like they say twins can?”
“Sort of. We share the same face, the same genetic code. But life’s experiences shape who we are, molding us into separate people. Our brains work differently, but there’s that base element that can’t be altered, no matter what life throws our way.” I elaborated. “It allows us to be able to read each other’s emotions on a very intimate level. Three parts of one whole. Feeling each other’s pain is not entirely out of the question.”
“What about your eyes? Are they an inherited family trait?”
“A quirk in the genes?” I laughed, not the least self-conscious. “Maybe, but I’m pretty sure the faeries gave them to us.”
“Faeries?” Danton asked deadpan.
“Sure, that’s as good an answer as any, isn’t it?”
“I guess so.”
“So, we know you’re not too keen on folklore, do you have any hobbies? Interests?”
“Work takes up a lot of my time. I’ve recently taken up rock climbing as a good way to exercise. But like most men I like football when it’s cold, baseball when it’s not. I try and work in a round of golf at least once a month.”
I cracked a claw, put the spicy meat in my mouth and chewed. “Really? Me too.”
“Where do you play?”
“The Oaks, all three of us have a membership there.”
“You weren’t there last Sunday, were you?” Danton asked, suspicious.
“I might have been.”
“Best score?”
“Seventy-three, but I’m aiming to make it below par at seventy. Eventually.”
“We’ll have to play a round sometime.” He offered.
Not being one to boast of his better score earned Danton a boatload of points in the plus column, or it would be if I was keeping score.
“Favorite book?”
“Anything by Grishom and King, you?”
“Which ever book I happened to be reading at the time is my favorite.”
“And that would be?” Danton prodded.
“I just finished a biography on Jane Austen and I’m about halfway through Oscar Wilde’s, Picture of Dorian Gray. The classics never go out of style.”
“Talk about variety, from biographies to fantasy.”
“You don’t believe in magic?” I asked, afraid to hear the answer.
“I’ve never seen a reason to.” Danton told me truthfully.
It was hard to hear him say that aloud; sad on so many levels. There was magic all around us, all we had to do was look for it. “Favorite movie?” I asked, changing the subject.
“All the Rocky and Die Hards.”
“Typical.” I snorted, polishing off another crab. “Like books, I’m all over the board. My favorite musical is Seven Brides for Seven Brothers.” How could it not be? “I love Abbot and Castello, Who’s On First is priceless. Drama, well I don’t care for it, too down in the dumps for my taste, although I do appreciate a good action flick and I agree with you. Bruce Willis and Sylvester Stallone are great.”
Before Danton could get another word in, I changed the subject. “So, listen, I’ve got a pair of tickets for the Orioles game next Saturday, right behind home plate, if you’re interested?” I offered throwing down the gauntlet. Would there be a date number two?
Danton mulled this over before answering my question with one of his own. “You sure?”
“Of course Danton, I like you. Question is, do you like me?” I took another bite of crab in the accompanying silence, enjoying Danton’s impression of a deer in the headlights look. “Come on Danton, it wasn’t a hard question, the answer’s pretty simple.”
“We just met!”
I rolled my eyes. “Please, you’re over thinking this. Let me make it easier for you. Do you, find me attractive?”
“Very.”
The look in his eyes didn’t lie. If he didn’t knock it off soon, I’d be all steamy like our lunch.
“Have you enjoyed my company so far?”
“Today, or before?”
“Today.”
“Yes.”
“Would you like more of it?”
“Yes.”
“Okay,” I shrugged, “You like me. That wasn’t so bad, was it?”
Danton didn’t answer, instead he finished his beer, rubbing a circle over his chest easing phantom pains. My heart went out to him. I recognized a commit-a-phobe when I saw one. In Danton’s case, he was worried about turning out like his parents who had seemingly wasted years of their lives on something that wasn‘t as permanent as what it was supposed to have been. The need to soothe him was too hard to ignore.
“Sadly the choices any parent makes in their pursuit of happiness often leaves wounds on their children, no matter what age they may be. You won’t be like your parents Danton, I won’t let you. More importantly, you won’t let yourself. The same determination and drive that you have to succeed and make things work at your job is the same that you’ll give to your wife and family. It’s like a business deal,” I explained, “Each side gives a little so that the best outcome in the end will be achieved. Easy. All you have to do is find the right partner, one that won’t quit on you and won’t allow you to quit on her.” Ending the conversation with an encouraging smile, I continued to back Danton into a corner. “How ab
out you pick me up at twelve? It’ll be my turn to drive your ride.”
Chapter 28
Common Ground
Danton
With amazing insight, a few simple questions, and well directed answers, Love had me figured out. Jumping right to the heart of the matter, her relationship advice was as practical as that of any shrink. Still, that didn’t mean I was ready to take the big leap. But it would make the smaller steps I had in mind more comfortable. I’d dated women before, but none like Love.
I’d only been with her a handful of hours but there was something special about her that I couldn’t put my finger on. There are those women you enjoy being with for short periods of time, the kind you count in minutes, no strings attached. Then there’s Love, the kind that sticks around, tying you to her with strings that are nearly impossible to untie.
“Twelve sounds good.” I agreed.
Now that the shock was over I was beginning to like the idea. A hot summer day full of baseball with a sexy woman by my side who had a sense of humor and liked to eat. What could be better than that?
“That song you were singing, what language was it in?”
“Gaelic.”
“Speak any others?”
“Enough to be understood, you?”
“A little Spanish, a lot Italian.”
“Of course. Lei ama viaggiare?”
Consider me impressed, her question was asked flawlessly, no trace of an accent. My dad would love her. Oh, was that train of thought to soon for a self-proclaimed bachelor? I couldn’t help it. Since I’d come into contact with Love, everything was changing and I seemed helpless to stop it. “Ah, I do like to travel.” I answered, “When I can.”
“Favorite place you’ve been?”
“Italy. My grandparents had a farm there. I was able to visit a couple of times before they died. Paris is a close second. Yours?”
“Scotland, we have family there of sorts.”
“What kind of music do you like?”
“Everything but rap,” She confessed, “I can’t stand it. I don’t know how anyone can understand a thing that’s being said.”
“Me too. Jazz is my favorite.” Dumping the last of the shells into the discard pile I reached for another.
“Okay, here’s a good one. If you could have any super power, what would it be, and would you use it for good or evil?”
