Maybe she should just leave it to him. She put her phone down, rubbed her eyes, and peeked out of her booth to see if her dinner was on its way.
Instead, Zane Bellamy, today in a dark grey suit that made the other one look flashy and outrageous, stood up from a few booths down, said something to his waiter, then turned and headed down the aisle in her direction.
God, he was handsome. All long lean lines that his suit emphasized, although he pulled on a well-cut overcoat as he came down the aisle. Vicki grinned up at him in greeting and croaked, “Fancy meeting you here.”
Zane gave her a brief, polite smile, and walked on by without a hint of recognition.
A gut-twisting wrench of shocked disappointment went through Vicki. They’d spenthourschatting the night before, and he hadn’t recognized her? Apparently if there was any attraction going on, it was entirely on her side. She sank into her booth, hot with embarrassment.
A few seconds later, the waitress appeared, eyes wide and a little star-struck. “I just saw Zane Bellamy. Did you talk to him?”
Mute with mortification, Vicki shook her head.
Robin’s eyes lit up even more. “I’ll grab him and make him say hi!”
“No, Robin, wait—!” It was too late. The young woman was gone, darting back to the main room of the restaurant. Vicki put her face in her hands, hoping against hope that Zane had already left and she wouldn’t have to face a man who’d dissed her like that. It was bad enough she’d have to face him eventually to get the dress made.
Maybe she could say she’d decided not to accept the prize, and let somebody he wouldn’t forget instantly have it instead. Vicki pulled her phone out to text her humiliation to her brother. He would have her back. He always did.
Before she got the text written, though, Zane appeared at her table again, and said, in the most genuine tones imaginable, “I amso sorry.”
Despite the fact that she was positively burning with embarrassment, Vicki automatically whispered, “No, it’s fine, of course it’s fine,” because that was what people did in awkward situations. That, and she didn’t think her voice would hold out if she started yelling.
“May I sit down?” Zane actually waited until Vicki nodded, and sat across from her with a beseeching look on his gorgeous face. “I’m sorry. I can explain, but first, Vicki—Victoria,” he said, as if suddenly remembering their agreement to be formal in public, “are you all right? Your voice—it didn’t sound right?”
Vicki put her hand on her throat, wishing she’d thought to ask Robin for tea or whiskey or anything to soothe the ache. “We got into a yelling contest at school,” she whispered. “I kind of wrecked it.”
“Oh my God.” Real dismay spilled across Zane’s face. “Can I get you anything?”
Well, she’d literallyjustthought she could use something soothing. Vicki croaked, “A hot toddy with a lot of honey?”
Zane jumped up and dashed out of the back room like a man on a mission, leaving Vicki to blink at his empty seat in total confusion.That—the helpful, kind, thoughtful guy who’d just bounced off to help her—seemed like the man she’d spent hours laughing with the night before. It didn’t square at all with the guy who’d just entirely blown her off.
Humans, she decided, didn’t make any sense at all.
It took a couple of minutes for Zane to come back, but he had the hot toddy in hand when he did, and presented it to her with an air of enthusiastic apology. “Extra honey, and the bartender made it with honey whiskey, which he said is great. Vicki, I’msosorry. Your voice being wrong really threw me off, and I know that’s no excuse, but?—”
Vicki took a sip of the hot toddy, which was delicious, painful, and soothing all at once. She made a sound like a kitten, small and pathetic and also relieved, and Zane broke off with an expression of great concern. “Is that good? Or bad? Should I get you some lozenges? I should, oh, God, I should have thought of that already, hold on?—”
He jumped up and ran off again. Vicki, despite herself, giggled. Just once. A small giggle. She still didn’t know how he could have blanked her like that, but he was clearly eager to make up for his mistake, which made forgiving him a lot easier. The sting of embarrassment faded (probably helped somewhat by the hot toddy), and Vicki felt herself relaxing.
Zane reappeared with a positively agonized expression. “They don’t have any throat lozenges. Should I go to the drugstore and see if I can get you some?”
Vicki lifted her hot toddy. “I’m good. Thanks, though.” Her voice didn’t sound like she was good at all, but the honey and whiskey was helping. “What have you been doing today? Ugh. You have to talk, I can’t.”
“Ah, yes, just what every man wants: the opportunity to talk endlessly about himself.” Zane gave her a rueful smile as he sat back down. “I spent the day hiding in the B&B and doing sketches. Only desperate hunger and the fact that Dion doesn’t know who to order out from here drove me into the wilds of Virtue’s streets.”
Childish excitement burst through Vicki. “Sketches for me?”
Another expression of sheer guilt slid across Zane’s face. “No, I’m sorry. We didn’t talk about the dress atalllast night. I don’t want to start until I have some sense of your personal style, of what you like, of?—”
“Please,” Vicki croaked. “You saw my personal style. Yoga pants and t-shirts.”
Zane flicked a fingertip upward, wagging it slightly. Not at her, but in rejection of what she’d said. “And boxy wool coats, and schoolmarmish dresses.”
Vicki looked down at herself: jeans and a fluffy sweater, and her puffy pink coat shoved around her hips because she was sitting in a booth. “I guess? I wore the dress yesterday because we were supposed to meet and I know it only cost thirty dollars but I think it’s cute?—”
“Hey,” Zane said softly. Vicki blinked up to find him smiling gently, as if she was a wild animal that needed careful handling. “That thirty dollar dressiscute, and it suited you. Don’t apologize for developing your style around your budget.”
