She mimed zipping her lips. “Sorry,” she whispered. “I just had a life altering epiphany. I’ll stay quiet.” She realized then that the trio of local classically trained musicians were softly playing romantic dinner music as the servers gracefully carried out plates. Dinner had started.
“What are you so happy about?” Maxi asked. “Are you losing your mind? Grouchy and depressed one minute, upbeat and excited the next. Should I be worried about you?”
Drinda grasped Maxi in a tight hug. “Thank you. I don’t know exactly which part of your advice hit home, but I realized that Ford is worth fighting for. I’m going for it. Tonight.” She did a little dance.
“Yes!” Maxi whispered excitedly and did a dance with just her shoulders. “What’s the plan?”
Drinda pursed her lips. “I have no freaking idea. But I’ll figure it out. Somehow.” She tapped her lip with her finger. “Never mind. How are those desserts coming?”
“Just waiting for the meals to be served so I have more space. This kitchen is tight. By that I mean it’s squishy; definitely not cool.” They giggled together, hands over their mouths to keep the noise down.
They worked side by side once the meals were served and the servers on a break. “You know what?” Drinda said. “I’m just going to be bold, like a super dark roast, and talk to Ford. I’m still going to move, but I’m going to tell him I like him. What’s the worst that can happen?” Disaster scenarios raced through her mind. He could laugh. He could deny her, or say he never wanted to see her again. So much could go wrong.Sour milk and over-roasted coffee beans.
“Good for you. I like Ford. He shovels my Gran’s walk, and he rescued her cat when it was stuck in a tree. He’s a good guy. You’re a good boss. You work well together.” Her grin was irrepressible.
When had she started taking dating advice from a teenager? One thing was for sure, Maxi wasn’t afraid toshare her opinions, and she attacked life with gusto, driving hard for what she wanted. Drinda shrugged. She’d had worse advice from more experienced people.
Ford was supposed to be here tonight, with his grandmother, Franny. If he was, maybe they could talk, and dance. She’d like that. A lot. She peeked out the doorway into the dim hall.
Luckily for her, Ford sat across from Franny at a table near the kitchen. His broad shoulders filled out his black suit jacket like it had been molded to him. His dark tie had light pink hearts on it. She never would have figured him for a seasonal tie guy. The sentimental tie touched something inside her and gave her a warm glow.
The flickering battery powered candles on the table lit his face. He was animated in whatever he was talking about. His smile was large, his eyes wide.Cake pops!He looked good enough to eat.
Her chest squeezed. She needed this man in her life. Her heart thudded just watching him. There was no way she could walk away without trying to make things right. She owedhim an apology.
He looked up and froze, his wine halfway to his mouth. A slow sexy grin spread across his face. It was too dim to see for certain, but she knew he had tiny laugh lines at the corner of his eyes. He tipped his head in an infinitesimal nod and winked.
She leaped back into the kitchen, her heart pounding.
Okay, maybe there was hope for them.
Unless he was just gaming her by showing he knew she was staring.
Dang it. Why couldn’t relationships be straightforward?
As the servers cleared the finished dinners, she began decanting the coffee into mugs while Maxi garnished the last of the plates. When everything was perfect, she gave the nod and the servers started out of the kitchen with the first of the plates.
♥♥♥
Ford rubbed the ache in his chest as he looked around the busy hall. He wasn’t the only person here with someone he wasn’t courting. Two of the guys he went to high school with were here with their mothers. One of the bank tellers was here with her grandfather.This was one of the things he had missed when he was away training. The sense of family and community in Cherry Lake. There was no shame in being at a fancy romantic dinner with your family. Over in the far corner, two female teachers from the high school sat together laughing. He’d dated them both, so he knew they weren’t romantically inclined, though the two florists next to them were.
Dang, he loved this town.
Cherry Lake wasn’t the only thing he loved.
He loved Drinda and tonight, he was going to prove it. If she’d even talk to him. He’d caught her staring at him. For a moment, he wondered if she was still interested in him, but when she darted back into the kitchen his heart sunk. Now, as he looked at all the couples in love and clearly enjoying their romantic evening, he wished he were anywhere but here.
Jealousy reared its ugly head and the ache in his chest morphed to a knife-like pain. He must have winced.
“What’s wrong?” Grammie asked. “You look like you’re in agony. Why are you rubbingyour chest?” Her eyes widened. “Are you having a heart attack? Do I need to call an ambulance?”
“No!” he shouted, and several heads turned their way. He forced a reassuring grin. “I just swallowed something wrong. It’s stuck.” He pounded the center of his chest for emphasis. “I’ll be fine.”
She squinted at him. “If you’re sure?” Her face morphed into a grin. “I think I’ll eat my dessert over there and then go home. I have no great desire to slow dance with my grandson. Maybe you can find someone else to dance with.” She chuckled. “Don’t let fear and common sense hold you back, boy. Grow some nards and go after what you want. Nobody loves a coward.” Laughing uproariously, she got up, kissed his cheek, and abandoned him in favor of sitting with three of her friends who shared a table for four.
The salted caramel torte was wonderful. Deep and rich but not too heavy to follow his amazing dinner. The Irish Cream Coffee was the perfect accompaniment to the dessert. Drinda had really outdone herself. When the servers had started clearing plates and prepping for the dance, he hadn’t seen Drinda except for that one brief glimpse.
What if she’d gone home already? What would he do? He’d have missed his chance.
