“So?”
“Guys who look like Dalton don’t date girls who look like me.”
“Maybe stupid guys who look like Dalton. Any halfway intelligent guy would date you in a heartbeat. Apart from the gay ones.”
He was pleased to see the warm flush in her cheeks. He turned his attention back to the road as they emerged from the darkness of the tunnel.
“Oh shit.” Traffic slowed to a near stop, backing up in every lane.
The rain poured down, turning what should have been a forty-five minute drive into a two-hour crawl.
“Don’t worry,” Marienne said. “We’ll get it all done. I’ll stay and help until it’s all set.”
Her presence was keeping him from freaking out completely. He knew how important this was to Justine. There’d be hell to pay if he screwed it up. His thumb bounced against the steering wheel as the cars inched along.
He stopped at Marienne’s house first, to get the desserts. The rain had let up, and they got everything into the car without getting wet. No sooner did they pull into his driveway than the sky opened up. Rain cascaded across the windshield. He could barely see the house. He pressed the garage door opener once, twice, three times. Nothing happened.
“Maybe the power is out,” Marienne said.
He felt the color drain from his face. Oh my God.
Chapter 22
Marienne could see the panic brewing behind his eyes, and oddly enough it helped her to remain calm. “We don’t need power to get this done. The stove is gas. We’ll be fine. Trust me. You have your house key?”
He nodded.
“Let’s go.” She opened her door.
Gusts of wind swirled rain around them as they struggled the first armfuls inside. Daniel insisted she stay in the house while he brought in the rest. She busied herself unpacking the bags. He sat the last load of groceries on the counter with a thud as she scooted past him. Her shoe hit a puddle and she slipped, careening sideways into the table.
She watched in horror as the enormous centerpiece appeared to move in slow motion. Water sloshed over the edge of the round glass vase. Orchids and calla lilies tumbled every which way. There was a distinct popping sound when it all hit the tile floor. Blue and green floral marbles skittered around the room.
“Shit,” Marienne yelled.
“Are you all right?” Daniel knocked marbles out of the way as he moved to her side.
“Oh my God.” She clapped her hand over her mouth. “I’m so sorry.”
He reached for her and started examining the wrist she’d slammed into the table. “Seriously, are you okay? Does this hurt?” He pressed his fingers gently along the side of her arm.
“I’m fine.” She was aghast. “Oh my God, this mess. The flowers.”
As her panic escalated, Daniel seemed to grow calmer.
“That can be fixed.” He looked down at the bent stems and shattered crystal. “Well, okay, maybe not fixed, but cleaned up. I’m just glad you’re okay.”
“This needs more than a little cleaning.” Her voice was shrill. “We need to replace it. Justine will flip if she gets home, and her centerpiece is gone.”
Daniel called the florist, and thankfully the woman who’d made the arrangement was working. Daniel wouldn’t allow Marienne to do the cleanup, so she insisted on going to get the flowers. She hated the idea of leaving him to clean the mess she’d made, but they had no time to argue.
She gave him brief instructions on what to do with the food—put a pot of water up to boil, rinse the fruit, slice the baguettes. There was no way he’d finish more than that before she returned, and none of it required electricity. Daniel handed her his car keys, and she headed out into the rain.
Marienne was freaked out. Everything had been going way too smoothly, the desserts had come out great, the food shopping had gone off without a hitch, then came the rain, the power outage and now the ruined centerpiece. That’s three. She hoped that meant the catastrophes were over.
The florist carried the arrangement out to the car, but Marienne still got drenched. She caught a glimpse of herself in the side view mirror as she checked for cars before pulling out onto Main Street.
“Oh God.” She flipped down the sun visor to examine herself in the vanity mirror. Her hair was dripping. Dark, uneven smudges curved beneath both eyes. She looked like a half-drowned cat. Her clothes were soaked as well, her shirt stretched out of shape from the weight of the water. She rested her forehead on the steering wheel and groaned.
She knew she had no time to whine. Justine and her guests would be at the house in less than three hours. More importantly, Daniel needed her. She wiped away the smeared mascara and rubbed her lips together hard, hoping to redistribute the lipstick that seemed to remain only on the outline of her lips. Taking a deep breath, she pulled out onto Main Street.
Daniel’s garage door was open when she pulled into the driveway, and she could see lights on inside the house.
“Thank God.” At least the power was back. One less thing to worry about.
She pulled into the garage. Before she could shut the car door behind her, Daniel appeared in the doorway. He’d changed into a blue t-shirt and khaki cargo shorts. His hair was damp and tousled. Her heart fluttered.
“I was hoping if I left the garage door open maybe you wouldn’t get…” He paused when she rounded the front of the car. “Wet.” He cringed as he caught sight of her.
She shrugged.
He sighed. “Sorry.”
“I think you’d better get the flowers. We don’t want a repeat performance from me.”
Daniel grabbed the arrangement and maneuvered it out of the car and up the three stairs into the house. Marienne stepped into the entryway by the garage door, unsure what to do next. She didn’t want to drip all over the floor and make an even bigger mess, but she was anxious to get to work.
She leaned toward the kitchen, keeping her feet on the entry mat, but craning her neck to see as much as she could. The mess appeared to be gone. No marbles, no scattered flowers. Steam rose from the big pot on the stove. She was impressed. Had Frank been in the same position, she imagined she would have come home and found him watching TV, complaining that he couldn’t find the dustpan.
Daniel came around the corner. “You’re a mess.” He frowned.
“Thanks, women can’t hear that enough.”
He laughed. “That’s not what I meant.” He disappeared into the laundry room then returned with a towel. “Here.” He wrapped it around her shoulders. “I’ll run up and get you something to change into. Be right back.”
“Daniel,” she said, but she could already hear his bare feet thumping up the stairs. “It’s not like I’m going to fit into any of Justine’s clothes.”
Before she’d finished toweling her hair, she heard him come back downstairs.
“Here.” He held out a stack of clothes.
“I won’t fit in Justine’s things.” She felt her face flush.
“These are mine. Courtesy of NYU.” He unfolded a T-shirt and a pair of sweatpants, both emblazoned with the familiar torch logo. He held open the bathroom door, motioning for her to go in, and setting the clothes down on the blue marble vanity.
“Oh, I almost forgot.” He reached into his back pocket. “Socks.” He handed her a pair of gym socks.
“Thanks.”
“No problem.” He tossed her a quick grin. “Try not to break anything.” She attempted to smack him with the socks, but he scooted out of the room before she could.
Marienne pushed the button to lock the door. She could still hear him chuckling.
“Hey.” She opened the door. “Take out the deli meats. We need to start rolling them.”
His face wrinkled in confusion. “Rolling them?”
She laughed. “Roll the slices. Like rolling a cigarette.”
“Ohhhhhhhh. We’re having a smoked meat platter?”
“Oh God.” She shook her head as he grinned. “Just get the meat, would you
? Start with the Genoa salami, that’s the easiest. I’ll be out in two minutes.”
Marienne closed the bathroom door again then peeled off her water-logged clothes. She hadn’t realized how chilled the rain had made her. The softness of the sweatpants warmed her. The T-shirt, she noted, smelled like Daniel. Just their detergent, she was certain, but still a scent she had grown to associate with him. She pulled on the socks, then glanced in the mirror. Sighing, she headed out the door.
Daniel was standing at the center island, a clutter of deli paper open before him. His long fingers struggled to separate the layers of salami and shape them into anything resembling a roll.
She giggled and he threw her an exasperated look.
“Ahhhh,” she said. “That’s how I like to see a man.”
“Frustrated and rolling salami?”
She laughed. “I was going to say ‘barefoot and in the kitchen’, but your line works too.”
“Shouldn’t barefoot and in the kitchen be my line about you?”
“That would be inaccurate.” She pointed to her sock-covered feet. “It’s more like soaking wet and in your pants.”
The words had left her mouth before she’d had a chance to think about them. She hadn’t realized quite how obscene they sounded until she heard them out loud. While she was horrified by her brazenness, he let out a snorting laugh.
“Sorry.” She blushed. “Pregnancy hormones. They turn off the edit button in your brain.”
“I think I like that aspect of pregnancy.” Daniel smiled at the fact that she looked embarrassed. Not only had he found the comment funny, he also quite liked the way she looked in his clothes. His t-shirt draped around her curves, his sweatpants cuffed at both her waist and ankles, her wet hair in a pleasurable disarray around her face. It was more than a little appealing. He felt the heat rising throughout his body and forced himself to refocus on the mess he was creating with the food.
“What am I doing wrong here?” He held up his failed attempt at a roll.
“Here.” She took the salami from his hand, laid it on the edge of the white deli paper, gently folded a tiny bit upward, then neatly rolled it into a tight wrap by gliding her fingers across it in one swift motion.
His mouth dropped open. “I think it’s clear the salami prefers you.” He continued staring at her hands, as she moved on to the next slice.
She put the second perfect roll on the crystal platter and picked up another slice. “Here, look.”
She placed her hands atop his and rolled them forward. The salami curled against itself into a neat little package.
“See? That’s all there is to it. Perfect.”
He bit his lip. There wasn’t a single part of his body that hadn’t responded to the touch of her hands. “Is this one of the culinary tricks Dalton taught you?”
She grinned, eyes twinkling, “One of many.”
They managed to get everything done before Justine arrived. Platters were chilling in the fridge along with pitchers of freshly mixed cocktails. The buffet was set with chafing trays. The desserts were plated and ready to serve.
Daniel felt much calmer now that he could see how much they’d accomplished.
Marienne surveyed her list. “Remember to open the wines and take out the cheese platters a half hour before they arrive. Other than that, you’re done.”
“We’re quite a team.”
She smiled. “We are.”
“Thanks so much for helping me.”
“That’s what friends are for.”
Friends. Daniel knew she was indeed just a friend, but the term seemed insignificant, an understatement for the overall closeness he felt toward her.
“Well, you’re definitely the best friend I’ve ever had.” It scared him to admit that out loud, but it was true.
“Likewise,” she said.
The single word warmed his heart. He was happy to have her in his life, in any capacity, and was thrilled to know that she seemed to feel at least somewhat the same.
“I should get going.” She shoved her wet clothes into one of the Dean and DeLuca bags. “I don’t want to be in Justine’s way when she comes home. I’m sure she’ll want to change and do some last minute re-arranging.”
“Okay.” He grabbed his keys off the counter. “Let’s go.”
“What are you doing?”
“I’m going to drive you home.” He stepped between her and the back door.
“Don’t be ridiculous. I live right there.” She pointed out the window.
“You’ve gotten drenched enough today because of this project; driving you home is literally the least I can do to thank you.”
“But I—”
“No,” he said, enjoying the fact that she was giving him a hard time.
She sighed and he knew he’d won, which made him smile. “Come on.” He put his hand on her shoulder to lead her to the garage. To his complete surprise, she turned in his arm, went up on tiptoe, and gave him a hug. It took a second for it to register. Her body pressed against him. He moved his arms to encompass her.
“Thank you,” she said. “You always take such good care of me.” Her lips were so close to his ear, he could feel the vibration of her voice. He imagined the hormone issues were exaggerating her emotions, but holding her felt so good he didn’t care. He would have stood there hugging her for as long as she wanted, but all too quickly she lowered herself and pulled away. He followed her to the garage and held the door as she climbed into his car, still wearing his clothes.
Chapter 23
“Good luck tonight,” Marienne said, opening the car door. “No worries, it’ll be great.”
Daniel waited until she was inside her house, then drove home. As he pulled into his driveway, he saw Justine’s car in the garage. He’d only been gone five minutes.
“Where the hell were you?” Justine yelled the second he stepped into the house.
“I was driving Marienne home.”
“Driving her home? Jesus Christ, she lives right there.”
Daniel wanted to say that he wasn’t about to make a pregnant woman trudge home in a downpour after working her ass off all day, but he couldn’t. “It was pouring and we got soaked several times today, it seemed like the least I could do was deliver her home dry and in one piece.”
“Always such a gentleman,” she said.
He was exasperated. He’d spent the entire day working on her party, shopping, preparing food, cleaning up flowers and broken glass, and all she could do was complain about him giving Marienne a ride home. He didn’t get it. And he certainly didn’t like it.
“Go get dressed. You cannot look like that when our guests arrive.”
He knew any response would set her off, so he left the room.
Justine yelled after him. “Wear that new blue shirt. And for God’s sake put on a tie.”
He could hear her muttering as he climbed the stairs. “Driving Marienne home,” she said. “Like a little rain would kill her? They have no idea how important this dinner is to me.”
He could see Justine buzzing around the living room straightening pillows, lighting candles, fixing the pleats in the curtains. When is she going to realize that Marienne has done exactly what she promised? All Justine has to do is serve the food with a smile, and yet she begrudges Marienne a dry trip home. Unreal.
He tried not to think about her attitude while he got changed, but she reminded him the second he got back downstairs.
She stomped past him, banging the bowl of chilled shrimp onto the counter. “How long does it take to change a shirt and put on a tie? Jesus Christ. I changed my whole outfit, fixed my makeup and put up my hair in less time. Fill the ice bucket, and help me carry these trays. They should be here any minute.”
Daniel wondered how much her investors would like her if they could hear her now. He tried to ignore her tone. He knew she was stressed. He reviewed the checklist Marienne had placed in his head. Cheese tray: out. Wine bottles: open. Caramel sauce coming to room temp
erature on the counter: check.
As he removed the smoked meat platter from the fridge, he couldn’t keep from smiling. They hadn’t spent that much time together since the play had ended. He’d missed how well they worked together. He missed her, period. She really had become his best friend.
He wondered again about how having a baby in the picture might change things, but the more he thought about it, the more he thought it wouldn’t matter, not in any negative way. He was quite sure he’d be just as fond of the baby as he was of Marienne. The thought of a miniature Marienne made him happy. Justine interrupted his thoughts with another command.
“Move that centerpiece. It’s supposed to be in the dining room, not the kitchen.”
Daniel took a deep breath. Marienne was right. Had Justine come home and found her flowers gone she would have had a complete breakdown. He was glad they’d managed to replace them.
The doorbell rang. Justine glanced at her reflection in the hall mirror before she opened the front door. She spoke in the most overdone voice he could imagine. “I’m so glad you made it. Come in. Welcome to our home.”
Daniel walked over, hand extended, thinking to himself that regardless of how good the food might be, this was going to be one very long evening.
The cocktails flowed, as did the conversation, and Justine’s guests devoured the food. The compliments were abundant as they sampled bits of everything. Justine looked quite pleased. Daniel wished that Marienne could see how successful her planning had turned out.
When the evening began to wind down, they sat in the living room for coffee. The platter of cookies, the plates of fruit, and the chocolate and caramel fondues were spread out across the coffee table.
Nicholas Thompson, the oldest gentleman in the group, turned to face him. “So, Daniel,” he said, in a gruff voice. “What do you do?”
Daniel put down his coffee cup to give Nicholas his full attention. “I’m a professor in the English department at NYU.”
Nicholas nodded, seeming impressed. “Good school. My granddaughter is thinking of applying there in the fall.”
Meant To Be (The Destiny Series Book 1) Page 15
