Chapter Eight
Clara pulled a salad from the fridge and set it on the kitchen table along with three types of dressing. She liked variety and had no idea what Zane would prefer. The lasagna rested on a trivet in the center of the table. Everything was ready. Wine and glasses. Pretty poinsettia and pine center piece, silverware, dark green napkins and placemats sat on a white tablecloth.
She glanced down in horror.
She’d set the table for a date. She’d lose the tablecloth before Zane arrived.
She heard his solid footfalls in the corridor. Too late.Darn it.
“Wow, this looks nice. You didn’t have to go to this much trouble. Thank you. It smells incredible.”
“You’re welcome. It’s not just for you,” she fibbed. “It’s like Gordon Ramsey says, you eat with all your senses. I love a pretty table; it adds to the meal.” She did, but usually didn’t put in this much effort. A quick snack in the privacy of her own suite was more the norm. “Please have a seat.”
“Thank you for inviting me. I’m glad to share your dinner and appreciate the effort.” He slid into the chair she waved him toward, laughing when his stomach renewed its earlier growling.
“Help yourself.” She studied Zane for a moment. He’d changed from jeans and a bulky sweater to dressier navy pants and a pressed white shirt. It made her glad she’d taken a moment to slip into a deep green shirt and skirt and run a comb through her hair. Having guests, especially handsome ones, was going to take some adjusting. There was a balance to be found between the functionality of jeans and sweatshirts and a more professional look.
Sitting, she inhaled, savoring the heady scents of melted cheese, spicy meat, garlic and basil. Threading through the delicious aroma, something enticing with masculine undertones reached her nose.Oh, he’d put on cologne for dinner. How sweet.Now it really felt like a date. This was not good. She had a business to establish, and dating wasn’t on the horizon in the foreseeable future. Not that they were dating.He’s a guest, Clara. Just a guest.
Her self-assurances were put to the test when Zane poured them both wine and waited for Clara to serve herself first, patiently waiting to dip into his own meal until she was ready to eat. Struggling to make conversation, to fill the empty air between them, she blurted out an idea she’d read about.
“I read about this thing on a parenting blog I stumbled on. It’s a mealtime thing. Want to try it?” she asked.
“Sure. What is it?” He took a bite of pasta. “Mmm.”
“It’s meant for kids, but it’s good for adults too. Tell me, what was the best part of your day?” She nibbled her pasta, waiting for a response. Finding the positive wasn’t always easy, experience told her it took practice. On the advice of a friend, she’d started a positivity journal after she escaped her father’s negativity. It helped her find beauty in life. After a couple years, it had become habit and had filtered into her daily outlook.
“I don’t know. Being here? Getting a great start to my project while I waited for this delicious dinner. And it is delicious.” He neatly devoured a bite of salad.
“Thank you. What project?”
He shook his head. “Nope. Your turn. What was the best part of your day?”
She hesitated. “Honestly? Having you rescue me from my watery disaster. Then having my extended family ride to the rescue with fans and equipment. It’s not that I couldn’t have handled it. It was nice to have help.” She’d turned that equipment off so they could eat without crazy noise.
“Glad to assist.”
His happy smile made her heart flutter like the wings of a butterfly.
“And the worst part of your day?” She added the second half of the exercise.
“Oh, probably the roads. There were quite a few icy spots in the last twenty miles. Before I headed out, I checked the weather and knew there would be some ice due to freezing rain last night. I didn’t have any incidents, which was good. I made it unscathed.”
“Until you entered my kitchen, at least.” Laughter bubbled forward. She clamped a hand over her mouth. “I shouldn’t laugh, but you looked horrible, dripping water, even as you saved me.”
“You were no peach yourself,” he teased. “You were drenched to the bone. Demanding to know why I was in your house.”
“I suppose so,” she agreed. “That was probably the worst moment of my day. Thanks for being there.” She ate a few bites, the sauce tangy on her tongue. “Funny how the worst moment was also the best.” And the memories would make her smile, long after Zane was gone.
“What’s with the frown?” he asked.
“Nothing really. Would you like more salad?” His plate was nearly empty. Maybe the offer would distract him. She didn’t want to think about the downside to owning an inn. Getting to know people from around the world would be great. Making friends and watching them walk away? Not so much. Nor did she want to think about how she’d messed up the date. Good thing she wasn’t having her grand opening until she had things under better control.
“Tell me about your project.” She sipped her wine, a fresh, breezy Chardonnay.
“I’d rather not,” he said. “It’s nothing secret. It’s personal. Maybe when I’m further along.”
“So not work related then? You did say you were on vacation.” She was curious. She liked to get to know people, and a secret project tweaked her interest, but she tried not to pry too hard. “Hopefully, the fan noise didn’t bother you too much.”
