Chapter 16
sixteen
PRESENT DAY
KATE
Isprint down the sidewalk after Julia, who I happened to see exiting Pulse Fitness wearing a set of headphones and running shoes. I burst through the doors after her, because there’s no time like the present to save your best friend’s art exhibition.
The cold seeps through my thin workout leggings and into my bones, but I propel myself faster.
Julia finally hears me through her headphones after two blocks, and I pull up short with a stitch in my side. Her naturally large eyes pull even wider after witnessing me chase after her like a psychopath.
“Kate? What’s going on?”
“Holy crap, you’re fast,” I wheeze, pinching the ache in my side.
Amusement tugs the corner of her mouth. “Sorry, I used to run track.”
I laugh, and the sharp pain intensifies.
“I have a proposition for you,” I say between gulps of air. “I need your help. Well, my friend Amantha and I do.”
Julia lights up. “Amantha Adams?”
“The one and only.”
“Brandon has told me so much about her and Val!” She crooks an auburn eyebrow. “But why does she need my help?”
I explain the situation, recounting Amantha’s abandoned exhibition plans, the new mural idea, and our need for an expert social media marketer who can work within our limited budget.
Julia’s mouth hangs open. “And… you thought of me?” Unfettered excitement brightens her expression. “That exhibition sounds insanely cool. I can practically see the videos I’d want to shoot! But…me? Are you sure?”
“Julia, I wasn’t kidding when I told you how impressed I was with your marketing videos. They’re memorable and compelling. We need you.”
The nearby stoplight cycles from red to green before she responds.
“I’m flattered, but…” She wrinkles her cold-kissed nose. “I don’t think my co-owner at Autumn & June would appreciate it if I split my focus. Hannah’s really stressed about sales being down after the holidays, and I’m trying to do everything I can to make her life easier.”
Regret tugs the corners of her mouth.
I’m sure my face looks as crestfallen as I feel, but I force myself to rally.
“Of course, Julia. You’ve gotta do what you need to do. But please let me know if you change your mind. As a photographer, I can tell you have a great eye for video composition. Your talent alone could help turn Amantha’s exhibition into a large-scale event.”
Her dark blue eyes shine like a midnight ocean. “You really think so?”
“Really, I do. And of course we wouldn’t ask you to shirk your duties at Autumn & June, but if your friend Hannah is worried about cash flow, the budget we’re willing to pay might help.”
This gives Julia pause. She toes the cement with her running shoe.
“If it weren’t for Hannah, I’d say yes right now. But we agreed to co-own the boutique, so both of us are at risk if it fails. It’s not fair of me to take this job without running it past her. But…” She worries her bottom lip with her teeth. “The extra cash could cushion us through next quarter.”
Hope flutters inside me like the snowflakes beginning to fall.
She gives a frustrated sort of chuckle. “Long story short, I can’t say yes, but I’m not saying no. Can I call you later tonight to tell you my decision?”
“Of course!” I scramble to give her my number. “Take all the time you need. Call or text anytime. I’ll be free tonight—”
No I won’t. I apparently have a date with a phone contact who I tipsy-named “My Future Blacksmith.” It took me a hot minute to remember why in the world I would name someone that, but once I remembered, I made a mental note to never pick up one of Liza’s books again.
I blow out a long breath in front of Julia. “Well, I have plans tonight, but I’ll make sure to answer your call.”
Julia gathers me into a hug before saying goodbye. I hope the determined sparkle in her eyes is a good sign, but I caution myself that I’m still getting to know her.
We say goodbye, and my mind returns to Tanner as I walk back to Pulse. Even though texting him back last night was definitely the Prosecco’s decision, I’m oddly…happy about it? Maybe happy isn’t the right word. Content, maybe? I don’t think I would have ever pulled that veritable trigger on my own.
And what if he is, in fact, my future blacksmith?
Iarrive home to find a bouquet of twelve long-stemmed red roses on my doorstep. I scan the floral shop’s attached artisan message tag.
Tonight, hopefully neither of us will get Vivian Rochester-Chenned. Wear something black-tie appropriate. I pulled some strings and can’t wait to surprise you with where we’re going. Pick you up at seven. —Tanner
I reach out and flick the paper, trying to bury a memory of a craft store price tag on a hideous branch of plastic cherry blossoms. These gorgeous roses are what I deserve. What an orchardess would want, maybe?
I may have to read Liza’s stupid romance book to figure that out.
And since Tanner was thoughtful enough to tell me about the required attire and definitely doesn’t drive a motorcycle, I’m going to dress to the nines.
At ten minutes to seven, I slink in front of the floor length mirror to assess my work.
My black hair is slicked back into a gleaming chignon on the nape of my neck.
The floor length gown I’m wearing is the color of melted chocolate, silk dripping over my abdomen and ruching on my hip.
The tiny straps above the “V” neckline are feather-light, and the thigh-high slit in the gown makes me feel like if I needed to kick someone in the face, I could.
My doorbell rings, and I sweep open the door. Tanner blinks a few times, then breaks into a grin.
“Wow… Sorry. I should probably come up with something better to say than wow, but.. wow.” Tanner’s hazel eyes look more brown than green against his black tuxedo as they skim over me. “You look gorgeous, Kate.”
I summon my inner orchardess and give a gracious smile. “Thanks, Tanner. You look great too.” And he does. I don’t even have to lie. The whole square jaw and light blonde hair thing is giving 007, and I have the urge to ask if it actually tastes different if it’s shaken, not stirred.
The poor guy can’t take his eyes off me, but the attention feels… I don’t know, kind of nice? It’s been a long time since I’ve started out on a first date with the intent of having a second one. Maybe with time, the butterflies will come too.
“Are you gonna be cold in that?” he asks.
“Oh. Yeah, probably. Hang on.” I retrieve my long cream overcoat from the closet and walk to the door as I try to thread my arm through the sleeve.
“Here.” Tanner steps inside, takes my coat, and holds it open while I slide my arms into it. His hand grazes the skin on my neck just above the collar, and I register the heat of his touch, but nothing flutters. Nothing even moves.
It’s like my stupid butterflies are faking dead until tattoos and zero reliability pull up on a motorcycle—and then they’ll go feral.
Screw the butterflies.
Tonight, I’m calling the shots. I am attracted to Tanner Evans. Tonight will be a fabulous date, and tomorrow we’ll be riding off into the orchard, regardless of my non-impressive amount of cleavage.
“Oh my gosh. I didn’t know they actually let people do this! I thought it was just in the movies,” I say. My wide eyes are likely creeping out the innocent restaurant staff as Tanner escorts me through La Dolce Vino’s private kitchen entrance, but I can’t help it.
“My father owns multiple restaurants across the city, and Chef Conti is a good family friend. He’ll be waiting on us personally.”
Tanner takes my coat and hands it to a waiting busboy, then pulls my chair out for me and settles down across the fancy tablescape.
The table is tucked far enough back to not be in the way of the choreographed dance of sous chefs and servers but close enough to hear the smattering of Italian words and smell the rows of bubbling pots.
I’m not sure if the giddy feeling in my stomach counts as butterflies, but I’ll take it.
Tanner watches me with a large smile, leaning back in his chair. I’m again struck by how small his straight white teeth are in reference to his broad face. Almost all of them show anytime he opens his mouth, like he somehow has more than an average human. So many teeth.
“You like it?”
“Like it? Tanner, this is awesome!” I try to keep from looking at his mouth while I talk, but my eyes have a mind of their own.
He chuckles. “Good. Chef Conti’s never let any of my family back here before, so this is probably as cool to me as it is to you.”
A first date specific to me. With a wonderfully kind man. With no old ladies or pink feather boas in sight. An entire kitchen with the sounds and smells of Italy—not a stale pretzel from a street vendor.
And yet…
“You okay?” Tanner leans forward on his elbows, covering my hand with his on the white starched tablecloth. “You seemed kinda sad all of a sudden. Is something wrong?”
I take in the look of genuine concern on his face, and I remind myself.
If I want something I’ve never had, I’ve got to do something I’ve never done.
“Nothing is wrong.” A deep breath of courage fills my lungs before I turn my palm beneath his and lace our fingers together. “I’m happy to be here with you.”
His eyebrows raise, and a pink tinge smarts behind his blonde stubble. If anyone is feeling butterflies, it’s Tanner. I wonder if he’ll share.
“I have a confession, Kate. When your Dad first told me about you a few months ago at the hospital—”
Alexa. Add Dad to my hit list.
“You sounded kind of too good to be true. And when we got Vivian Rochester-Chenned, I was mortified but also kind of relieved.” He chuckles.
“It’s like you had been a ghost this whole time, and when I finally got to meet you…
Well, let’s just say I tried to convince myself to leave a whole lot earlier during Christmas Eve dinner.
” Tanner ducks his head, shyly peeking beneath his lashes.
“Even though you intimidate the crap out of me, I want to be around you, Kate.”