by Vivi Holt
Molly laughed and patted Amanda’s back. “She’d never let me get married without a wedding. She’s determined to be a bridesmaid too.”
“Ain’t that the truth,” chuckled Amanda. “She’d chase you down and force you into a white dress.”
Molly laughed along with her. “You know it.”
“So does this mean you and Tim don’t have feelings for each other? Because that’s not the impression I got.”
“What do you mean?” Molly’s brow furrowed.
“Every time you talk about him you light up like a Christmas tree.”
Molly huffed. “That is not true.”
“Yes, it is. You care about him, I’m sure of it. Plus he’s hot. So when do I get to meet him for real, not just at a cocktail party?”
Molly frowned. Tim was hot, at least to her way of thinking. If someone had asked about her type, she’d have answered differently a month ago, but now … tall, dark, athletic with sky blue eyes? There wasn’t anything about his looks she’d consider improving on.
“He is very attractive, I’ll give you that …”
Amanda chuckled. “Stuart’s not bad-looking either. I’ve done my best to steer clear of the Holden brothers over the years, which hasn’t been difficult given how many bimbos are usually clustered around them when I’ve seen them out on the town. I’ve had a few discussions with Stuart, editor to editor, but I’ve never spoken to Tim for more than a minute or so – and that’s including calling him while we were baking.”
Molly arched an eyebrow. “How come I never met him before then?”
“You don’t go to cocktail parties. But I have to, ever since I became editor. I must network, as Daddy’s always telling me. Networking brings in stories, and we need the stories. And you didn’t answer my question – is it all fake?”
Molly pondered her sister’s words – was it? She’d been so busy thinking about everything else, she hadn’t made space to consider her own feelings. Perhaps a better question to ask was what she’d do if he walked out of her life tomorrow. How would that make her feel?
Finally she shook her head. “I don’t know, really. I like him. There’s definitely a spark between us. But the reason we faked our relationship is exactly why it would never work between us for real – our families hate each other. For all my bluster and pretending, I could never marry a man my family hates. You’re too important to me.”
“Who said anything about marriage?” snorted Amanda. “Well, okay, you did, but … I just wondered if you’d actually date him for real.”
“For me, that’s what it’s about. I don’t want to date someone I couldn’t end up with.”
“But if you don’t date him, how will you know if you could end up with him? Catch-22.” Amanda rested her hands on her desk, then sat slowly with a sigh. “And it’s something I’ve struggled with enough times to know how hard it is.”
Molly leaned her rear against the desk and crossed her arms. She felt a little hollow inside from their discussion and her throat ached. “I know you have. You’ve dated guys who don’t know or appreciate the real you, but just want the Amanda photographed in the Lifestyle section.”
Amanda nodded and sighed. “Never mind. I’m married to the Times and so be it. But not you – you’ll find someone amazing, fall in love and get married, I know it.”
“Until I met Tim, I didn’t think so. After Andrew broke my heart, I was done – I didn’t want to date or fall in love again. But now …”
Amanda grinned. “Now?”
“Now I’m not so sure.”
“Well, since you’re obviously developing feelings for the hot fireman, I won’t tell Momma and Daddy about how it’s an enormous pile of baloney. At least not yet. I’ll give you a chance to work things out yourself. And when you tell them the truth, which you’ll have to at some point, I’ll be there to help you pick up the pieces.”
Molly laughed and rested a hand on Amanda’s arm. “Thanks, sis, I really appreciate it. Though it might all be for nothing anyway – Tim’s not happy with me at the moment.”
“What do you mean? Why not?” Amanda frowned.
“Because I snapped at him. You know how I get when I’m stressed. Well, I said some things that hurt his feelings.”
Amanda chuckled. “He’s gonna have to get used to that if he plans on marrying a Beluga.”
Molly nodded. “That’s a big if.”
12
Three days had passed since Molly had last heard from Tim. She didn’t want to read anything into it, but it was becoming increasingly difficult. Their last conversation was about the party his parents had suggested to celebrate their marriage, and now he was M.I.A.
She sighed and stepped on the accelerator as rain splashed the car windows. The wipers squeaked across the windshield, bringing the lanes of traffic, lights and sodden tarmac into sharp relief before the rain obscured everything again in the dark night. She pulled into her apartment building’s driveway and steered her car into the underground parking garage.
She parked, switched off the engine, pulled her cell phone from her purse and dialed Tim’s number. He hadn’t answered her last five calls, so there was no reason he’d answer now. But she felt she had to try. He couldn’t avoid her forever, could he? Not when they had a party to plan. And they’d shared a kiss in the park, so it didn’t make sense for him to be avoiding her.
He didn’t answer.
Her thoughts clouded over. He was acting immature and uncaring. What if something had happened to her and she needed to get in touch with him? The least he could do was call her back. And they were supposed to be acting like they were married, at least where their families were concerned. What if someone showed up to her place unannounced and she hadn’t heard from him in days? It wouldn’t look good. They should really talk about moving in together, though how that would work she had no idea.
Upstairs, she unlocked the apartment expecting to find Vicky at home, but the lights were still off and the apartment dark and empty. She flicked the switch and gasped. “Daisy!” The dog was conspicuously absent from the living room, but she’d left her handiwork behind: a couch cushion in ruins on the floor, stuffing scattered everywhere, even on top of the lamp on the end table.
Molly put her hands on her head, her eyes wide and her heart pounding. Vicky would kill her, kill them both – her roommate had bought that couch on layaway and had talked of nothing but cushions and cover materials for months before selecting it. With a sigh, she walked to the couch and sat on one of the intact cushions, her purse in her lap. She felt the last of her energy reserves leave as a lump grew in her throat.
Just then, a wet black nose pushed around the corner of the couch and into view. “Daisy, you’ve been very naughty!” cried Molly, her throat tightening. “You’ve destroyed Auntie Vicky’s couch and she is going to be very angry!” She lowered her head into her hands and studied the mess, having no energy to do anything about it. Vicky would be home any moment and would want the dog gone, but Molly couldn’t bear the thought of getting rid of Daisy.
The dog slunk closer and laid her head gently in Molly’s lap, her eyes wide and soulful.
Molly relented and stroked her nose. “I don’t know why you do it, baby, but you’re killing me. You have got to stop destroying things.”
Daisy licked the back of Molly’s hand, her long tail swaying gently.
“I know … it’s not your fault. You’re just a puppy and this apartment is too small for you and you’re bored and lonely. It’s all my fault. I’m sorry, Daisy.”
Another lick seemed to suggest she was forgiven and the lump in her throat melted away. She leaned forward to hug the dog, who wriggled closer until she could climb into Molly’s lap. Molly laughed as the animal wedged itself between her lap and her face, pressing a tangle of golden hair into her face. “Daisy, you’re too big to do that now, you crazy dog …”
Her cell phone rang and she searched for it blind, her hand ferreting around inside her pu
rse as Daisy squashed it under her haunches. She pulled it free and held it to her ear, still laughing. “Hello?”
“Hi, it’s Tim.”
Her heart pounded. She should have looked at the screen before she answered, but her face was still buried in dog fur. Daisy pressed against Molly even harder, and she gasped for breath. “Uh, hi, Tim. Thanks for calling me back.”
“No problem. Sorry I missed your calls – I was doing a disaster preparedness assessment in Florida the last few days and didn’t have a chance to call back.”
Her stomach flipped. He wasn’t avoiding her at all. “Oh, that’s fine. I just wanted to talk to you about some things … but they’ve completely flown from my head right at this … uh … ow … moment.” She pried Daisy’s toenails from her thigh.
Tim chuckled. “What are you doing?”
“There’s an enormous golden dog who hasn’t quite figured out that she’s now too big to be a lapdog.”
He laughed, a big loud guffaw, and she couldn’t help grinning in response, getting another mouthful of hair for her troubles. “Ugh … uh.” She spat it out again. “Daisy, do you mind?”
The dog spun to glance lovingly in Molly’s direction and Molly tickled her behind the ears.
“Having a good day?” asked Tim.
She frowned and sighed before answering. “Fine, I guess.”
“That wasn’t very convincing.”
“It’s just that … I spent the day interviewing a lot of very uncooperative people over an incident at Hartsfield-Jackson – two jumbo jets barely missed each other at a runway crossing. Then I got home a few minutes ago and found Daisy had destroyed one of the couch cushions. Vicky bought the couch, she loves the couch and she’s going to be so angry – she’ll probably tell me Daisy can’t stay here. As you know, this is not Daisy’s first offense.” Just thinking about it made her stomach churn.
“I’m sorry – that really stinks. Want company?”
She answered before thinking. “Sure.” But even as she said it, her heart fell. The apartment was a disaster area, she was a mess and completely exhausted after a long day at the office, yet the thought of seeing Tim had made her forget all that. She’d missed him. The realization made her head spin.
“Great – I’ll grab us some takeout and come over. Say, what kind of couch did Daisy ruin?”
Confused over his sudden interest in her furnishings, Molly answered all his questions about size, color and brand before he hung up. She shoved Daisy off her lap, much to the dog’s dismay, then began cleaning up the mess. It didn’t take long, and when she was done she popped some popcorn in the microwave and slumped in front of a movie to wait for Tim to arrive – he said he’d probably be a while. She was glad to get some downtime and put the day behind her.
The knock at the door startled her awake. A movie she didn’t recognize blared on the TV screen and she shook her head to clear it. What time was it?
There was another knock, and she dragged herself from the couch to answer it. “Tim?” She rubbed her bleary eyes.
He smiled. “You fell asleep?”
She nodded. “I did. Sorry, long day.”
He held up a white plastic bag. “Hungry?”
“Famished!”
She led him to the kitchen, where she pulled out two white plates and some silverware. She set them on the counter, wondering if she had any clean glasses or anything but tap water to put in them. She smiled, her thoughts still muddied. “Chinese food – my favorite.”
“So you missed me while I was gone, huh?”
She turned and found herself face to face with him, the scent of his aftershave in her nostrils. Her hormones shifted into overdrive and her whole body tensed. “Uh, yeah … I guess so.”
He smiled and rested his hands on her arms. “I missed you too.”
“I thought you were angry with me.”
He chuckled. “I got over it.”
“Because we Belugas are kind of feisty – and sometimes we say things we don’t mean. If you’re going to be …” She stopped mid-sentence. Was she about to say, if you’re going to be part of our family? But he wasn’t, not really.
“If I’m going to be your boyfriend? Is that what you were going to say?”
Her cheeks flamed. “No, I … I don’t know. I’m not simple minded – I do realize what we have isn’t real.”
That made him laugh. “Ah, I see. I’m glad to discover that you’re not simple.”
He was teasing her and it made her blush harder. Her arms broke out in goose pimples at his touch.
“I guess I’d just like to know what you were so upset about,” he continued.
She frowned. “I think it was just … this whole thing between us is so confusing. I know it’s not real, but then sometimes …”
“It feels very real,” he finished.
She nodded slowly, loath to admit the truth even to herself. “Is that stupid?”
He shook his head, his blue eyes dark with intensity. “No, not stupid at all. I feel the same way.”
“You do?”
He leaned forward slowly and her lips trembled, waiting for the kiss she was sure would come. When it did, she gasped against his mouth as his arms crept around her waist and her own snuck up behind his neck. She pushed her fingers into his thick dark hair as their kiss deepened. It took her breath away, and her whole body felt weak.
When he pulled away, her eyes flitted open. Was she still asleep? Was this a dream? She couldn’t tell anymore.
He smiled lopsidedly. “We should eat.”
She leaned back against the counter, her hands on the edge, her legs still trembling. “Ah … yeah. Let’s eat.” She turned to reach for glasses.
“But before we eat, I have something for you.”
She faced him with a smile. “Oh?”
He tugged a small square box from his jeans pocket and opened it, his chiseled cheeks dimpling. “It’s your ring. I thought you should probably wear one at the party, or people will have questions. It’s not much, just a simple gold band.” He held it up.
She offered him her hand, her heart pounding. “It’s beautiful. Thank you.”
He slid it onto her finger and she stared at it, twirling it around a few times. It gleamed under the fluorescent light. It felt strange to have a ring on that finger again – it had been bare for two whole years.
He nodded. “You’re welcome. I’m glad you like it.”
She returned to setting the table.
He shoved his hands into his pockets. “While you’re doing that, I’ve got something else in the pickup I need to bring up.”
She faced him with an arched eyebrow. “You came in the truck?”
“Yeah, Callum let me borrow it.” He hurried off.
She poured them each a glass of ice water, set out plates and silverware, then set the Chinese food boxes in the middle of the table and hunted down some napkins – for some reason the restaurant hadn’t included any in the takeout bag. She finished just as she heard the front door close, walked out to meet Tim …
… and found him fitting a cushion onto the couch – an exact match for the one Daisy destroyed. “What? Where did you get that?”
He set his hands on his hips to survey his handiwork, gave a brief nod and met her gaze. “I stopped by the Macy’s warehouse. When you described the couch to me I took a chance I could find it there – I know the inventory manager there. He let me buy it – apparently they stock spares just for these circumstances.”
Her eyes smarted with tears. “What are the chances that you’d have a friend who works at the exact warehouse I needed access to?”
“Actually, pretty good – I have a lot of friends.” He chuckled and ran a hand through his hair. “But I’m glad it fits so well – the same color and everything.”
“You didn’t have to do that … I hope you don’t owe your friend any favors now.”
He shrugged. “Nah, he doesn’t mind. Besides, I paid for it.”
Molly’s throat tightened and she smiled through her tears. “I can’t believe you did that.”
Tim walked over and ran his fingers down the side of her face. “For you … anything.”
Tim trudged through the mud. It stuck to the sides of his boots and squelched with each step. He usually enjoyed traveling for work, and Wisconsin was beautiful in the summer. But his mind was elsewhere. He couldn’t stop thinking about Molly and their kiss – kisses, actually. He grinned. He was looking forward to getting back to Atlanta and picking up where they’d left off.
After she snapped at him at her parents’ house he’d resolved himself to pull back, but he couldn’t help himself. When she answered the phone, her voice made his heart leap, and the next thing he knew he was offering to bring over dinner – not to mention hunting for a replacement couch cushion.
He shook his head, remembering the look on Callum’s face when he explained the situation to him. He’d given Tim a knowing look, then laughed and nodded. “Sure, take the truck. But let me say for the record that this whole thing is nuts. You should just admit your feelings for each other and go on a date.”
A young man jogged up beside Tim. “We’re all set to go.”
Tim nodded in acknowledgment. “Thanks, Sean. We’ll get started at 0800.”
“You got it.” Sean hurried away.
Tim turned to survey the field before him. The stretch of land had been set up as a practice field hospital, with actors playing victims of a nuclear disaster. People lay about all over the place, bloodied and broken. Emergency personnel waited on the sidelines, ready to jump into action. He loved running disaster drills – they were fun, and they revealed the holes in emergency systems in a given location. Once they were done, he’d write up a report listing all the weaknesses he’d identified and his recommendations on how to resolve them.
A look at his cell phone revealed no missed calls or messages. He wasn’t expecting a call, though he hadn’t told Molly he was leaving the state. He should call her, but something held him back. He wasn’t accustomed to being answerable to anyone, or having anyone want to keep track of his movements, and wasn’t entirely sure how much she’d want to know.
