“There they are.” Mr. Clark stood and made his way around the table to greet us. “I’ll introduce you ladies after Julie gives me a hug.”
I laughed when he opened his arms.
“It’s so great to see you, Mr. Clark,” I said as he pulled me in for a hug. “Thank you for inviting me tonight.”
“First of all,” he said as he pushed me back. “Like I always tell you, stop calling me Mr. Clark. You’re old enough to call me Gavin.”
I shook my head. “I don’t think I am.”
He chuckled and looped his arm across my shoulders. The close resemblance Landon shared with his father always spooked me. They had the same sharp jaw and dark eyes and were both over six feet tall with broad shoulders. The Clark men were genetically blessed.
Darlene beamed next to him, her hazel eyes shining. Her dark hair was cut into a short bob with sideswept bangs, and she wore a green sweater dress over her slim frame. I agreed with Landon about her age. I guessed she was in her early fifties at the most with her flawless olive skin.
“I’m so glad to finally meet you,” Darlene said, extending her arms. “I’m a hugger, and we’re pretty much family.”
I laughed and hugged her back, my chest pinching a bit when she called us family. I guessed I was family to Landon and his father on a couple of levels. Landon and I had been friends since we were in college, and according to the marriage license no one knew about, I was her fiancé’s daughter-in-law.
I’d considered Landon my family for almost two decades, which made how attracted I was to him lately all the more confusing and frightening.
“I’m so happy to meet you too,” I said after we pulled away. I caught the sparkle of her engagement ring when Mr. Clark drew her into his side and she drifted her hand down his chest.
“And congratulations. I’m so happy for both of you.”
“We’re happy for us too,” Mr. Clark teased. “Now that introductions are over, come sit.” He motioned to the empty seats across from where they were sitting.
“Gavin and Landon told me that you’re a very talented graphic designer,” Darlene said after she handed us the menus already on the table. “I used to be a copywriter for an agency for many years. Is agency life still as awful as I remember? I mean, I always loved the work. The hours, not so much.”
I nodded in agreement.
“My old agency was like that sometimes, especially after I was promoted to creative director. I’ve been working on a freelance project now, so I agree about loving the work and hating the hours.”
“I did freelance for years and loved it. I would work on a few different projects from different clients at once, and the variety and flexibility were amazing. Insurance can get expensive when you’re freelance, but I never went back to full time after that.”
“I like hearing that you made a good living in freelance.” In my periphery, I swore Mr. Clark had given Landon a conspiratorial glance, but it was probably the mention of insurance making my mind play tricks on me. “Gives me some hope.”
I nodded a thank-you at the waitress when she set down our water glasses.
“From what I hear, you’re very talented and don’t need to hope so much. Start getting feelers out, and soon you’ll have to refuse jobs because you’re too booked.”
“Landon is a little biased,” I said, angling my head to meet his gaze as he perused the menu. “But that would be nice.”
“It’s not that I’m biased. Well, not completely,” Landon said, draping his arm across the back of my chair. “I still have the sketches you gave me in college. To be able to create that kind of amazing detail without any real training is pure talent.”
“I was always jealous of the designers.” Darlene sighed and closed her menu. “I can string words together, but stick figures are my only artistic talent.”
I chuckled, scanning the menu, before I whipped my head to Landon after what he’d said sank in.
“You still have sketches I gave you almost twenty years ago?”
His brows pulled together as he nodded. “Why would I throw them out? The only reason I didn’t frame them was because they were an odd size and I didn’t want to cut them. So they’re rolled up in my home office. Or former home office, after I head back to Charlotte to pack it all up.”
He grinned and went back to the menu, as if what he’d just said hadn’t cracked my chest open. I brought my water glass to my lips and took a long sip, hoping the cold liquid sliding down my throat would soothe me enough to calm me down.
Did not taking a risk for something amazing make me a fool, or would I be a fool for taking a reckless chance and losing the most important person in my life? The question was enough to paralyze me.
“Ready to order?” the waitress chirped next to our table.
“Yes,” Darlene said, opening her menu. “I’ll have the salmon, please.”
