Table for One: An Inspirational Romance
Page 1
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Epilogue
Table For One
A Standalone Novella
Leah Atwood
Copyright © 2017 by Leah Atwood
Cover Design © Covers by Ramona
Cover Image © Adobestock.com
Unless otherwise noted, all Scripture quotations are taken from the HCSB®, Copyright © 1999, 2000, 2002, 2003, 2009 by Holman Bible Publishers. Used by permission. HCSB® is a federally registered trademark of Holman Bible Publishers.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Epilogue
Note from the Author
Other Available Titles
That Was Then Excerpt
Chapter One
Trevor Stockton stood outside his girlfriend’s apartment, waiting for her to answer the door. His foot tapped the tile floor. Any day now.
Mariah ran life according to her schedule, no one else’s. Early in their relationship, he’d learned to accommodate that quirk by upping the time they had to leave. If a movie started at seven, he’d tell Mariah they had to leave by six-thirty instead of quarter to seven. Tonight’s reservations were at eight, so he’d told her they needed to leave by seven-thirty.
Flicking his wrist, he checked the time. If they weren’t on the road in two minutes, they’d be late, and that was assuming no traffic on the way. He put an eye to the outside of the peephole, hoping for any glimpse of hope she’d soon be ready, but the effort proved useless. The small opening offered no view from the outside looking in.
He stifled his eye roll and patted his pocket, feeling the outline of the box from the jeweler. A smile curved his lips as he focused on Mariah’s positive qualities instead of those that drove him crazy.
Beautiful, intelligent, sophisticated, ambitious. Kind—most of the time. Considerate—until she lost patience. And giving. So what if it was her daddy’s money she willingly donated to worthy causes? She could have been selfish and kept it for herself.
He filled his lungs to capacity with a deep breath, rolled his shoulders, and exhaled. By night’s end, he’d be engaged if Mariah said yes, but he didn’t believe she’d say no. She’d been hinting toward an engagement for months.
More like she’d issued veiled ultimatums.
It’s not as though he didn’t want to marry her. He loved her. Really, he did. Just because she got on his last nerve more often than not, didn’t mean they couldn’t have a successful marriage. Most couples annoyed each other on occasion. It came with the territory, didn’t it?
Footsteps approached the door. Finally.
When Mariah opened the door, dressed in a red sheath dress, he forgot his irritation. The overhead lights in the hall shot bright rays against Mariah’s diamond necklace and matching earrings.
She cast him a dazzling smile. “I’m sorry to keep you waiting.”
“No problem.” He held out a hand. “You’re gorgeous. That dress was made for you.”
“Thank you. I wanted tonight to be special.”
Did she know what he had planned? He’d made sure not to tell any of her friends or family. The only people who suspected an engagement was her father because Trevor had asked for his blessing several months prior, and a trusted friend who was helping out. The details, including time and date, of the proposal, he’d kept to himself.
He flashed a smile, accompanied by a foreshadowing wink. “Who knows what the night will bring.”
Calm settled over Trevor as they walked to his car. Mariah’s chatter about her volunteer work at the nursing home smoothed the edges of his nerves. He’d allowed his impatience to color his mood toward her on what would be a night to remember.
Years from now, they’d tell their children, then grandchildren, about the night he proposed under the stars at the spot where they’d first met. A taco truck held little romantic appeal in and of itself, but that’s where he’d paid for Mariah’s food when she’d pulled out her wallet to pay one day three years ago, only to realize she’d left it at home.
The rest, as they say, was history. He’d been with Mariah ever since.
Another round of anxiousness hit him. Had Dan set up the truck? The original food truck had disappeared last summer, but Trevor had arranged for a friend’s truck to be there in place as a symbol.
Tacos sound good. Much better than the overpriced, undersized steaks served at the restaurant where they had reservations. It wasn’t his first, or second, or third choice of places to eat, but Mariah enjoyed it, and tonight was about her.
“Trevor? Are you okay?”
He jerked his head, breaking out of his thoughts. When had they reached his car? He opened her door. “Sorry, something popped into my mind.”
“Must have been deep to be that lost in concentration,” she said, sliding into the passenger seat.
“Not really. Just tacos.”
Mariah crinkled her forehead, peered at him, then laughed. “You and your tacos.”
He grinned and crossed to the driver’s side, with a smidgeon of relief she hadn’t been cross with him. Her moods and reactions were unpredictable, and it wouldn’t have been the first time she’d gotten upset that she hadn’t had his full attention.
“Did you see the lilies blooming outside the apartment?” Her hands moved as she spoke. “Summer is my favorite season, but I do love spring in Louisiana.”
She continued her monologue the entire ride which suited him fine. Kept him from having to answer the barrage of questions she shot at him. He’d often wished he could be a fly on the wall of Mariah’s mind. How did she keep her thoughts straight?
He was a simple man who typically limited his thoughts to one at a time. Mariah, on the other hand, must have a thought assembly line in her brain. She could throw out ten different ideas in the same number of seconds. Granted, most of them were good ones, but it made his head spin.
Was it because he was getting older, or was he simply different from her? Their ten-year age gap barely registered most of the time, but he would turn thirty-nine this year. One year shy of forty.
Was he capable of rapid-fire thinking when he was twenty-nine like Mariah? He didn’t think so. Even in his twenties, he’d been known for his singular focus. It’s what propelled his success as an engineer. He’d rather focus on one issue at a time. How did that quote go? Jack of all trades, master of none.
Yet, with Mariah, his mind often drifted. He blamed it on her leapfrog conversation style, rarely sticking with the same topic for more than a minute.
He pulled into the restaurant, an upscale steakhouse in downtown Lafayette, and bypasse
d valet parking.
“Are you still hung up about the incident last time?” Mariah lowered the visor and checked her makeup in the mirror.
“They stole the perfume I bought my mother for Christmas.”
Mariah started to roll her eyes but stopped short of completing the action. “I’m sure you misplaced it, sweetheart.”
Her blasé attitude about the theft pricked his nerves. “You were with me when I bought it. I placed it inside the console, and then we came to eat. When I got home, it was gone.”
She kissed his cheek. “Let’s not let a trivial incident ruin our evening.”
“You’re right.” He grabbed his keys from the ignition switch. “But the car keys stay with me.”
Worst start to a proposal night, ever. He forced aside his frustration with her, not for the first time that night, to remember why they were here. He suspected she knew about tonight, despite his best efforts to make it a surprise, so he was grateful he’d crafted a scheme to keep her guessing. Dinner was a red herring to throw her off before the big event afterward.
Once inside, he stepped up to the hostess stand. “Reservations for Stockton.”
A college-aged brunette dressed all in black with her hair pulled into a sleek ponytail glanced down at the podium, then back up with a toothy smile. “Your table is ready. Follow me.”
She sat them at a booth on the far wall. The flame of a candle flickered in the table’s center, surrounded by a bed of red rose petals. What the restaurant lacked in taste, it made up for in atmosphere.
Their hostess offered them a complimentary glass of wine, which they declined, and then she placed an opened menu in front of him and Mariah. Neither needed the menu. He always ordered the prime rib, and Mariah ordered a filet mignon topped with grilled shrimp. They placed their food orders at the same times as their drink orders, then resorted to small talk.
Out of the corner of his eye, a movement caught his attention. No. He sucked in a deep breath as discreetly as possible. Not good.
Five tables away, a man slid from his chair and lowered to one knee. He held out a ring to his presumed girlfriend, and the girl cried and nodded her head.
Trevor couldn’t hear the exact words, but anyone could guess what had just happened. Witnessing a happy proposal should have bolstered his confidence, but it only played on the doubts he’d been nursing. He prayed it didn’t show. All men got nervous before proposing, didn’t they? Getting engaged was a monumental life change.
Mariah’s reaction was a stark contrast to his. She clutched her hands to her chest and stared at the couple with stars in her eyes. When she broke her attention from the newly engaged man and woman, she gazed at Trevor with hope and anticipation.
He thought of the ring in his pocket. Wait another hour, Mariah. You’ll get your turn.
After another stolen glance at the couple, her bottom lip puffed out in a pout. “Looks like a small diamond.”
“What did you say?” He must have heard her wrong. Not even Mariah would stoop to criticizing a happy couple out of jealousy.
“You can’t even see the diamond from here.” She sniffed with an air of disgust. “What’s the point of a ring if you can’t see the stone?”
“It’s not about the stone, but their love.” All the doubts he’d harbored broke free into certainty. He reached across the table and clasped her hands, ready to listen to what God had been telling him for months. “We need to talk.”
Her mouth formed a small O before turning into a wide smile. “I agree.”
“I think we should break up.” The second the declaration left his mouth, peace filled him. Marriage to Mariah would be a huge mistake. Why hadn’t he seen it before? You did, but you ignored God’s nudge.
Blue eyes widened, and her jaw dropped. “B…but…you brought me here to propose.”
“You’re a wonderful woman, and will make some man very happy one day, but not me.” Great job, Stockton. Could you be any less original?
She jerked her hands from under his. “Is this a cruel joke?”
Swallowing, he shook his head then inconspicuously pointed to the table across the dining room. “Did you see the joy on that couple’s face? Have we ever had that?”
“No.” Mariah blinked rapidly. “But every couple is different. We’re not as demonstrative as most.”
“I’m sorry, but it’s over.” His heart ached. He hated being the cause of pain etched into her strained features, but continuing with a lie would be worse in the long-term.
“Unbelievable.” Anger took over her countenance, and her voice rose with each word she spoke. “I gave you three years of my life, and this is how you treat me? I came expecting a proposal tonight, not a break up in one of the city’s most romantic restaurants.”
“I’m sorry.” He wetted his lips. “I never wanted to hurt you.”
She jumped up and grabbed her purse. “Too late for that.”
People were starting to stare.
“There’s no reason we can’t still enjoy our meal.”
The glower she shot him suggested he’d said the wrong thing. “I’m leaving. You can stay.”
He surged to his feet. “We drove together. Let me cancel our orders and pay for our drinks, then I’ll take you home.”
“No.” Her head shook vigorously. “I’ll call my sister to pick me up. I can’t be around you right now.” With another round of daggers shot toward him, she spun and stalked out of the restaurant.
Did he follow her or sit down?
Several pairs of eyes blatantly watched him while other diners averted their gazes.
A man wearing a black vest approached, and Trevor recognized him as Chris, a waiter who’d previously served them.
Chris leaned in to whisper, “I’ve seen this before. Instinct is to be a gentleman and make sure she is okay, but in my experience it’s best to give her space to calm down.”
“You think?” It went against everything he knew.
“It happens at least once a month. That or a proposal is turned down.” Chris checked the restaurant branded pager. “My table’s food is up, but if it makes you feel better, management has a protocol in place. They’ll keep an eye on her and make sure she leaves safely.”
“Thanks, I think.” Trevor sunk into the booth in shock about the transpired events.
He’d had every intention of proposing tonight. Breaking up had never even crossed his mind, yet he’d known intrinsically that’s what he was supposed to do.
Where did he go from here? He still didn’t feel right leaving Mariah alone out front, but he trusted Chris’s expertise on the matter. He wished her no ill will, and genuinely hoped she found happiness one day, but he knew he wasn’t the man for her.
The waitress, Tia, appeared at the table, poised to perfection, only a hint of nervousness reflected in her eyes. “Should I bring your food or pack it to-go?”
Her question caught him off guard. He’d never eaten alone at a restaurant, but tonight was for new beginnings and firsts. Goodness knew the food was barely edible fresh, let alone reheated later. A small needle of guilt pricked his conscience. The staff and customer service excelled here—except the valet—to the point it overshadowed the poor culinary skills of the chef, and he had a moment of remorse for his thoughts on the food. And to be fair, it was mainly the grilled steaks that didn’t meet his expectations. The prime rib and seafood were edible, sometimes even good.
Why not enjoy his food fresh? “I’ll eat mine here, please.”
Chapter Two
“That’s a wrap.” Lauren Allred flipped down the top of her laptop and breathed a sigh of relief to have finished her blog post. Tonight’s stretched her to the limit.
When she’d started her Table For One blog four years ago, every post had been exciting to write. The words leaped from her fingers to the screen, but lately, the passion she’d initially possessed faded with each weekly post. At thirty-two, when she’d written her first post, she’d embraced her single status
. A year later, she’d taken a trip around the globe, grateful for the freedom being single and childless provided.
Her thirty-sixth birthday brought a seismic shift in attitude. Or it could have been that her baby sister, seven years younger than she, got married on Lauren’s birthday. Izzy had asked if she’d minded, and what could Lauren say? No wasn’t an option. Izzy had always dreamed of a spring wedding, and March twenty-second was the only available date for the venue until August.
One week later, she couldn’t shake the blues. Her gaze traveled to the bookcase against the left wall. Souvenirs and trinkets from her travels lined the shelves. Seashells from Cozumel, a weather house from Germany, and a dozen more. They usually brought her comfort, but not tonight.
She needed a change. Something different. The beginning of a great idea formed in her mind, one that would rejuvenate her blog. She catered most of her posts to those who were single and loving it. But what about her readers who desperately wanted to marry and were simply making the best of their singlehood until such a time?
What about a series dedicated to unique ways of finding a significant other?
Grabbing a pen and notebook, she let the ideas flow. Host a game night within one’s community. Instead of happy hour, find a man dining alone in a restaurant and ask to join him. Get a dog and take it to the park—no one could resist fur babies. Within a half hour, she had a list of twenty ideas.
She scratched a few off when she reviewed the list. Attend a church single’s group was the first to get the cut. It wasn’t all that unique, and she didn’t want to encourage readers to attend church for the wrong reasons. She also eliminated the idea of searching social media events and joining in if the invitation was public—too much potential for adult-oriented stranger danger. Safety must remain a priority.
Once she finalized her list, she considered each activity and chose four to carry out on her own. For the next month, she’d try out one each week, and then blog about the event and outcome.
Her stomach growled, sending her lips twitching to a smile. Leave it to her body to send her a message on what to try first. No time like the present. She glanced at the clock on the wall. 7:36. By the time she changed her outfit, fixed her hair, and touched up her make-up, it would be past eight. Perfect timing.