Wendy took a sip of her tequila sunrise, Waylon Jennings crooning from the juke box in the corner. “You were saying you talked to Roman last night.”
“Oh yeah.” Pointedly, Stella positioned paper couches, tables and chairs around a hand drawn blueprint of her father’s bar – the big fireplace out of the picture. “We Skyped.”
“Ooh-la-la!” Wendy smiled brightly. “And?”
“And he gets back tomorrow.” Stella shuffled the large drawings on the table as if something else caught her eye.
“No, I mean what happened last night?” Wendy’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Did you guys have unprotected Skype-sex?”
Stella looked up, an offended look in her eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous,” she said, turning back to her work. “Of course we did.”
“I hear that’s almost better than the real thing.”
“It’s not, but it’ll do in a pinch.”
Wendy played with her straw, spinning the ice in her glass. “So how do you get started doing something like that? Do you tell him what to do or does he tell you what to do or are you just kind of freestyling?”
Stella could feel the roses blooming on her cheeks as a gray haired man in a greasy ball cap approached them. He set an empty pitcher on the table and shot Stella a heated glare. “I’d like to file a complaint with management. Your pitcher’s got a hole in it!” He laughed and winked at Wendy.
“Your head’s got a hole in it, Max,” she spit back.
Max stopped laughing and grumbled under his breath.
Stella pointed a pencil at the pitcher. “Tell Jase the next one is on him.”
A wide smile surfaced through Max’s wiry beard. “Sure is good to have you back, Stella Talvert,” he said, gray wisps curling from his ball cap. “We’ve missed you something fierce, girlfriend.”
“Don’t get weird, Max,” Wendy muttered, examining her purple nail polish.
His smile fell. “How’s that weird? I’m just saying it’s nice to see her again.”
Wendy blew on her nails. “It’s weird when you say it while you’re blatantly staring down her shirt.”
He turned to Stella with a sheepish grin, eyes dropping to the breasts squeezing from her tight v-neck work shirt. Max put a hand to one side of his mouth. “Looks like somebody’s jealous,” he whispered, launching into a violent burst of laughter. Without warning, he stopped and slipped into an intense stare. “I’ll be back,” he said in a gravelly Terminator voice, whisking the empty pitcher off to the bar.
Stella examined the spattering of day drinkers around them before returning to her designs. She tapped a pencil against the table, restless heart syndrome kicking in.
Wendy sat up straighter in her chair. “Talked to Sawyer lately?”
Despite her eyes snapping to Wendy, her voice remained neutral. “We’ve texted a few times.”
Wendy arched an eyebrow. “You mean sexted?”
“No, I mean texted. He said the house looks good.”
“He and Jase did such a phenomenal job. You should see it.”
“Guess he’ll be leaving soon, huh?”
“I’ve already got two fish on the line,” Wendy said, taking a drink. “I’m trying to get them in a bidding war, but that house will go quick. It’s all about location.”
Stella swallowed and let her eyes stray from focus. Deep down, something told her she’d never see Sawyer again and it broke her heart. It felt like she was trapped in somebody else’s dream, one she could never awake from. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
“I still can’t believe you never told me about him. I am truly hurt.”
Stella cringed and started shading a wraparound booth. “You saw how Jase reacted,” she whispered, glancing at Jase, who was waiting on three pretty girls at the bar. “How many times do you want me to say I’m sorry? We were going to tell you.”
Wendy watched the cubes spin inside her glass, slowly shaking her head. “All those times I sat around talking about how cute Sawyer was and about how big of a giant dick I bet he had, and the whole time you were dating him.”
Stella pushed too hard on the pencil and broke the tip.
“That is so embarrassing, Stella.”
“Granted, there were times I wanted to kill you but that was my fault for lying and I apologize.” She checked her watch again, willing the digital numbers to fast forward to tomorrow night. Roman was all she could think about and without him, time crept like a snail. With him, it went by like pouring rain.
“So there’s no spark between you two anymore?”
Stella looked up. “Between who?”
“You and Sawyer.”
She hesitated. “No.”
Wendy drummed her nails against the bar and pushed her lips into the side of her heart-shaped face. “So…would it be weird if I met him out for drinks tonight?”
Stella held onto her jaw, refusing to let it drop. “Are you serious?”
Wendy slapped the table. “I knew it! You still love him.”
Stella inhaled sharply and looked around. “I do not, and would you please lower your voice.”
“Stell, you should’ve seen the look on your face just now. You looked like you just found out Nordstrom was going out of business.”
“Bite your tongue, woman.”
Wendy’s voice softened. “It’s okay if you are still in love with Sawyer, you can tell me.”
Stella dropped her gaze to Wendy’s nearly empty glass parked in a mess of wet rings on the table, biting back the slow moving cringe blooming in the pit of her stomach. It pissed her off there was a cringe at all. There shouldn’t be. No, there wasn’t. She was mistaken. It was gone now. False alarm.
Wendy’s nails drummed against the table. “Well?”
Stella opened her mouth to say the obvious, to tell her the truth, and that’s when the front doors flew back. Sunlight poured inside, wrapping Roman in a warm glow when he stepped into the bar. Stella’s eyes bulged. She jumped from her seat and met him in the middle, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him for everyone to see. She drew back to make sure it wasn’t another daydream, surveying his black jeans and plain white tee. She loved his casual approach. His t-shirt made it easier to feel his rippled abs than some fancy suit. “What are you doing here?”
“Surprise.”
She hugged him again. “I’m so glad you’re back.”
He lifted her off her heels and set her back down, planting a soft kiss on her lips. “Me too; we finished up a little early.”
“Are you hungry?”
“Starving,” he said, running a hand through his slicked back hair. “I’ve been on the road for hours.”
“The usual?”
“That sounds great.”
She took him by the hand and led him to the table.
“Hello, Wendy,” he said, taking a seat.
“Well, look what the cat dragged in. How’s the lake house, Doc?”
An exhausted sigh pushed from his lips. “Wouldn’t know. Haven’t been there in forever, but I’m ready to take the next few days off.”
“Me too,” Stella said, jotting his order down on a yellow pad.
“Good for you, Doc. Kick your feet up on that beautiful back patio and watch the fish jump.”
“I cannot wait. You don’t even know.”
Wendy leaned her elbows on the table and gazed into his eyes. “Stella told me about the work you do in South Africa and I have to say I am really impressed. That is a very selfless thing of you to do.”
He flashed an uneasy smile and shifted in his chair. “It’s rewarding work, if not a bit depressing at times as well. But it makes me very grateful for the advancements we have because so many people over there don’t even have cell phones, let alone access to proper medical supplies and treatment.” His gaze thinned. “Disease and death run unchecked over there.”
Woefully, Wendy shook her head. “I couldn’t imagine not having a cell phone.”
Roman laughed and
traded a playful glance with Stella.
After turning his order in to Jenny, Stella set a glass of Coke in front of Roman and another tequila sunrise in front of Wendy.
“Thank you,” he said, tapping his straw on the table to break the wrapper while Stella cleared her things from the table. “How are the designs coming?” he asked.
“They’re spectacular,” Wendy blurted, looking all around. “This is going to be a completely different place.”
Stella slipped her tablet into her purse and set it on a chair. “I’ll show you tonight.”
“Ooh, what’s tonight?”
Roman turned to Wendy. “The back patio.”
“Oh snap, count me in!”
Stella and Roman stared at her with twisted looks gripping their faces. Wendy started laughing. “I’m kidding.”
Roman sucked on his straw, unable to take his eyes from Stella, making her heart beat faster. “I’ve got a surprise for you.”
Her eyebrows dipped. “Another stethoscope?”
“Much better.”
Wendy rested a hand on his, fighting the urge to smile. “So how excited are you for Hank’s engagement party tomorrow night?”
“Oh, very excited,” Roman said, chuckling when Stella rolled her eyes.
A quick giggle snuck past Wendy’s lips. “If it’s half as good as Tulipfest I’ll be happy.”
“Why do think I’m going?” Roman snickered. “Someone has to control her.” His wink sent a sliver of animation through Stella.
“It won’t be anything like that,” she replied, leaning against the table. “I’m going to give Vicky a chance.”
Wendy’s mouth got round. “Well, would you look at Miss Pleasant Pants over here, Roman. I think you have tamed the beast!”
“I thought I smelled something tall, dark, and handsome in here!”
They turned to see Jenny approaching in a grease-stained apron and hair net holding her locks in a red bun.
Roman smiled warmly. “Hello, Jenny.”
She leaned on the table and gave him an unimpeded look down her shirt. “I just wanted you to know I’m cooking your onion rings with extra tender-lovin care today, Roman.”
“That is very nice of you. Thank you.”
Wendy flattened her lips. “Are you cooking my jalapeno bites with a Bic lighter?” she asked flatly. “What’s the hold up?”
“They’re comin right up, gorgeous.” A rolling laugh followed Jenny back to the grill.
Wendy watched Stella, chewing on her lip. “So…when is Vicky moving in anyway?”
Stella flushed at the question and pictured herself living in that house with a woman who wasn’t her mother – sharing the bathrooms and kitchen, fighting over the remote, pretending to like her cooking. “Not sure yet; probably soon.”
“She seems so nice.” Wendy looked to Roman. “I mean, it was kind of hard to get to know her at Tulipfest when you were kicking Sawyer’s butt and all.”
Roman jerked his chin at Stella. “I told you I won that fight.”
Wendy took Stella’s hand, eyes softening. “At least give her a chance.”
“I know,” Stella said. “It’s just weird.”
Wendy studied her for a moment and then sat back in her chair. “Come stay with me! I have an extra bedroom.”
Stella gave her a sidelong glance. “Your extra bedroom is packed with realtor signs and boxes of shoes.”
“No biggie, I’ll get a storage unit.”
“Thank you, but I’ll be fine. I have to learn to roll with the punches.” Stella paused. “Changes.” Her eyes snagged on the smug look holding Roman’s face hostage. “I’m just happy for my dad.”
Wendy stared dully at her. “Really?”
Stella’s lips settled into a thin, grim line. “I really am.”
“Here we go,” Jenny said, delivering a tray of food. “Stell, you want some mozz sticks or something, honey?”
“No thanks.” She watched Jenny dish out the steaming plates, trying to convince herself she could handle another woman in her mother’s house.
No biggie.
She only had to.
Stella returned her attention to Roman. The engagement party was tomorrow night and they could worry about that then. But tonight was tonight. He smiled back and winked, his eyes way ahead of her.
Chapter Thirty
Stella watched the flames jump in the fire pit on the patio to a chorus of crickets, the smell of burning wood heavy in the air. A loon called out from somewhere in the dark, drawing her eyes to the lake. The fire popped, sending a glowing ember rising into the sky. She snuggled closer to Roman on the cream colored couch, stealing his heat.
“It’s so peaceful,” she said, taking a sip of her dirty martini with an extra olive.
“I love it here.” He pulled her closer against him and sighed. “There is nowhere on the planet I’d rather be right now.” His eyes gleamed in the firelight, the hint of victory in his smile. “I love being with you.” He gave her a light peck that melted on her lips. “I’m addicted to the way you make me feel,” he breathed against her.
She watched shadows flicker across his face, heart bursting at the seams. She could get used to this. It felt right. Boat lights slid by in the distance. Water lapped softly against the shoreline. Stella relaxed into the moment, forgetting her mother, forgetting Sawyer, and forgetting Chris Sherman. None of that seemed to matter anymore. Not when she was with him. With Roman, her mind only saw the future, not the past. A sudden burst of laughter erupted from the lazy boat, peppering the night with their infectious cheer. Roman kicked his black Adidas up onto a coffee table made to withstand the elements. He sipped his scotch on the rocks and stared out over the black water, gently massaging Stella’s neck. Fireflies flickered around them like tiny paper lanterns, brushing the night with strokes of green. A fish jumped from the water and slapped back down. It sounded big.
Roman exhaled a long breath.
Stella rubbed his leg, his scent stoking. “I bet you’re tired.”
His fingers played with her hair while a light breeze teased the flames. “Mrs. Bolderdash is right, I need to slow down and smell the roses more often.” He buried his nose into her hair and inhaled.
“I won’t stop you.”
He ran a hand through her hair. “Let’s see those designs.”
“Okay,” she said, digging into a red purse on the other end of the couch. “You have to give me your honest opinion though.” She swiped a finger across her tablet and held it up to him, casting a gray light across his handsome face. He flipped through the three options – all of which played off the lake, rather than the wooded hills around it. His face remained blank throughout the presentation, unreadable and disconcerting. Her pulse quickened. What if he didn’t like any of them? What if he thought she picked the wrong major from the get-go? Suddenly, it seemed as if she set herself up for a crushing fall on a beautiful summer night.
Slowly, he shook his head and flipped through them again.
Stella shifted her legs under her and took a sip of her drink, trying to read his face.
He sat up a little straighter and held in a deep breath, striking panic into Stella. “These are stunning.”
She released the breath she didn’t realize she was holding. “You really think so?”
“I really like this one,” he said, stopping on design number two – the creams and oranges giving the space a modern, beachy feel. “But I love this one.” He swiped the third option onto the screen. “The silvers and blues blend so well, and play perfectly off the nautical elements in the room.” He pressed a finger to his lips, brow dipping. “Who are you trying to appeal to more? The locals? Or the summer crowd?”
“Well, both, but we make most of our money during the summer.”
He flipped to another screen and then another, before landing back on design number two. He tapped at it. “I think they’re all incredible, but this is my favorite.” He turned to her. “Which ones do Jase and
Hank like?”
“I haven’t shown them yet,” she said, slipping the tablet into her Marc Jacobs bag. “I’m scared.”
“Why?”
“What if they don’t like any of them? My dad will think he really lost money on me at school if I can’t even come up with a decent design for a bar out in the middle of nowhere.”
He took her hand and kissed it. “Trust me, they will love them. Those are phenomenal. You have a real talent.”
“Thank you,” she smiled. “I like them too.” Stella watched him pull a small, thin box with a red bow from beneath a pillow on the couch. Her eyebrows drew together when he handed it to her. “What’s this?” she asked, setting her drink down and taking the box.
“You’ll have to open it to find out.”
Her eyes rose to find his crooked grin, her fingers blindly pulling at the bow. The ribbons fell to the side. Her mind raced with speculation. A bracelet? Necklace? Target gift card? Removing the lid, Stella looked inside. Her heart pounded, pumping blood to her head way too fast. She recognized the silver card inside and held it up to the light of the fire, bewilderment smeared across her face.
“It’s a key to my condo in the city,” he said, confirming what she already knew.
Her breath caught in her throat, leaving her speechless and dazed. How did she not see this coming? How did she miss the signs? He wants her to move in with him? Holy fucking shit!
“What do you think of my condo?”
Jumping shadows masked the surprise in her eyes. “It’s beautiful,” she said faintly, imagining them having breakfast together like back on May Day, every day. Her heart swelled with joy, threatening to explode. It was where she belonged. She could feel it in her gut.
“Do you really like it though?”
She turned to him and wrinkled her brow.
“I want your honest opinion as a designer.”
Her eyes gravitated back to the silver card pinched between her fingers, blood pounding thickly in her temples. “I think it’s an incredible space.”
“But…”
“But it’s cold.”
He nodded. “It is.”
“And it could use some color.”
He tapped the card in her hand. “Would you put your magical touch on it? I’ll pay you for your time, of course,” he said, shooting her a wink and sipping his drink.
Forgive & Regret Page 17
