The presentations. “Shit!” she hissed out loud. She replied, “I actually don’t get off work until five and won’t even be home until six. Wanna meet me there?”
“It’s a date,” he said with a smiley.
She clutched the phone to her chest and felt the absolute dreamy sensation of being in puppy love. Her brown eyes glittered up to the white ceiling of that bathroom.
Her phone buzzed again. She read it.
“Wear your Armani perfume.” It ended with a kissy face.
She giggled and wrote back, “Don’t shave.” It too had a kissy face.
That rose quite a giggle from him! So much that his workers stared at him from across the large living room. He put his phone back into his pocket. “Alright,” he ordered and clapped his hands, “let’s get back to work, y’all. Enough dickin’ around.”
Evie was lost in dreamland until the main door of the ladies’ room came swinging open. She mumbled under breath, “Shit, shit, shit!” She stood up.
“Evie?” Missy’s voice came. “Are you in here?”
Evie flushed the toilet for no reason at all other than to appear like she needed the bathroom. She came out and fixed her blazer. “I’m fine. What do you need?”
Missy stared up and down to examine her. Evie folded her arms and tapped her heel in a smug fashion. “Well, what is it? It’s not like a girl can’t have a moment to herself in the bathroom.”
“What were you doing?”
Evie pushed by her. “Cracking the Da Vinci Code.”
Chapter Eight
O’Malley’s was a stunning restaurant that boasted glamorous dark-wood counters, black chairs, white tablecloths, and the most sparkling bar display she had ever seen. It was the sort of place where the staff wore black pants or skirts, white Oxford shirts, and ties. The menu changed seasonally, and the most delicious thing to her was the triple chocolate cake that far surpassed any she had ever had. Although she loved the baked goods at Songbird Café in town, they never really made anything sinfully chocolatey, which was Evie’s weakness.
The host greeted her warmly and escorted her to a cozy table for two in the darker corner of the back of the dining area. It was up a small set of stairs to a more intimate area where wine bottles were on display and the TVs were a little quieter, if heard at all. She thanked the host as he handed her the menu, and after he left, she began reading to prepare her order.
Music played on the local radio station softly overhead, and she stopped reading to listen closer. The little girl within her called her back to happier days while she heard the lyrics. She closed her eyes and imagined her delicately pink-painted fingertips stroking his rugged face.
In a pickup truck not too far away, Caleb was hearing the same songon the radio and lowly sang along. He sighed miserably. He thought out loud, “Sometimes I feel like she’s the closest thing to heaven I’ll ever get.”
He had to forget it. Forget it all.
He had to forget what happened overseas.
The steering wheel was gripped harder.
He had to forget what hedid.
She rested her chin on her hand and smiled, drowning in a sea of joy. To let those waves crush her and the rip current pull her further from reality to a place she longed for.
She sprayed herself with Sì by Armani.
He arrived and parked in a spot, then checked his five o’clock shadow in the mirror. “Alright, don’t let me down tonight. You gotta be extra rugged. Like Chuck Norris rugged. Like ‘houses demolish themselves for reconstruction when I walk in’ kinda rugged.” He then reached over and grabbed the two dozen roses on the passenger seat and got out.This chick loves flowers as much as she loves her cat. If I want any chance in hell to start over, I gotta make the right moves.
And if he ever wanted to truly shake what he’d done, he was going to have to work hard for her.
No woman in her right mind would love a man who did what he did.
She felt a bit shaky, so she shook out her hands and took a deep breath.Okay, Evie. He’s got kids and a respectable role in society. Don’t fuck this up. Grow up. Get your emotions in order. Don’t be too sensitive. This is your chance.
Surveying the room, she saw him come in. She rose to her feet, and a smile could not stay off her face when she saw the roses he carried. The nervousness blew away the moment she saw his familiar face. But she also couldn’t help but be stunned at what he was wearing. She held her chest from the flutters. Somehow, even while on the job in such a field, he was wearing dark-blue jeans and an ironed white Oxford shirt tucked neatly into a black belt. The shirt framed his shoulders and biceps lusciously, and his hair was gelled in the way she recognized. On his feet were cowboy boots. She couldn’t believe he didn’t have a coat of some sort! It was downright chilly that evening.
He bounded up the steps to leave the host behind. Her heart raced as she clapped her mouth.
