Chapter 18 Gillian #3
“I don’t care. I don’t want anyone knowing that much about my personal life,” Seraphina said.
“I’m not going to either,” Esme said.
“Why?” I asked.
“Because I’m in love with Grady.” Esme set aside her fork and grabbed her wine. “There. I said it.”
“I had a feeling,” Lila said. “Have you told him?”
“What? God, no!” Esme shook her head so vehemently that one of her hoop earrings fell out. “He doesn’t feel that way about me, for one,” reaching desperately for her earring. “And he would be the worst choice in the world. His business is struggling as much as mine.”
“You could be broke together, I guess,” Lila said.
“Nope. Number one reason couples fight is about money,” Esme said.
“I already had that with Jeff. Plus, I don’t want to risk losing our friendship.
We’re better that way. The kids adore him.
If I told him how I felt, and then he stopped coming around, Madison, in particular, would be crushed. She loves him as much as I do.”
“Oh, Esme, I’m sorry.” Lila tilted her head, brown hair spilling over one nicely sculpted shoulder. Thanks to my Pilates classes, I mused.
“It’s okay. I’ve accepted that the loves of my life are my children,” Esme said. “I’ll be fine. Anyway, Grady and I are too much alike. Always ready for the next party instead of focusing on serious stuff.”
“Like what?” Delphine asked.
Esme giggled, shrugging her shoulders. “I don’t even know, which is the problem.”
“Delphine? What about you?” I asked.
“I’m on the fence.” She cut into her steak.
“Annie really wants me to try. I feel like I owe it to her to at least be open to the idea. Her father’s death was hard on both of us, and the fact that she’s encouraging me to look for love isn’t something I can ignore.
Even though I didn’t like the sneaky way they did it, their hearts were in the right place.
And, like Lila, you and Alex have inspired me. ”
“I already told you who your perfect match is,” Seraphina said. “But, as usual, you’re too stubborn to consider him.”
“Wait, what? Who’s her perfect match?” Esme asked.
“The new owner of the bookstore,” Seraphina said. “Dorian Flynn. I’ve been working with him on a signing event at the shop, and he’s remarkable. Smart and steady as they come. Quiet, but kind. The dependable type.”
“If he’s so remarkable then why is he for Delphine and not for you?” I asked. “A writer and a bookstore owner seem like a good fit.”
“No chemistry between us,” Seraphina said. “I get the brotherly vibe from him. However, when Delphine and I were in there the other day, he couldn’t keep his eyes off her. And they have a ton in common.”
“Like what?” Esme asked.
“That’s easy,” Seraphina said. “They’re both disciplined. Orderly. Dedicated to bringing art into the world. Emotionally mature. He’s loyal and obviously the dutiful type, given his military background. And he’s ridiculously handsome in that silver fox, super fit type of way.”
“How old is he?” Esme asked.
“I think early forties,” Seraphina said. “Prematurely white.”
“Delphine loves that type,” Lila said innocently.
“I do?” Delphine asked.
Lila ticked off several silver-haired actors that Delphine thought were handsome.
“Hmm, okay, you do have a point,” Delphine said. “But let’s move on, shall we?”
We were interrupted when Hunter came by.
As we’d been eating and chatting, the place had cleared out, leaving only a few tables occupied.
Hunter had a bottle of wine tucked under his arm.
“Ladies, I have a new wine I want you to try. A sommelier friend of mine suggested it. Anyone up for it? I’ve had it decanting all afternoon. ”
We all chimed in enthusiastically that we’d love to try it. I stole a quick glance at Seraphina. She was not looking at Hunter but rather at her plate as if it had suddenly become more interesting. And a flush was working its way up her neck.
Hunter tugged the cork from the long neck of the bottle and asked the server to bring a new round of clean glasses. Soon, we were all tasting and giving our opinions to Hunter. The consensus? Delicious.
“Your sommelier friend must be very good,” Lila said. “Does he live here in town?”
“Just moved here after a bunch of years in Europe,” Hunter said. “But he grew up here, so he’s back.”
“Like Dorian,” Seraphina said under her breath, nudging Delphine with her elbow.
“Do you know Dorian?” Hunter asked. “He’s a friend of mine too.”
“I’ve been talking to him about a signing at the store,” Seraphina said, cheeks flushed, and still not looking directly at Hunter. “His mother was always very generous about hosting signings, and he’s been the same.”
“Oh, yeah, he told me about you. The romance author.” Hunter’s mouth twisted in what I could only describe as sardonic.
We all bristled.
“Don’t say it that way,” Esme said flatly. “You’ve no idea how hard it is to write romance.”
“And, like most men, underestimate the talent behind the books women actually enjoy reading,” Delphine said.
“Over eighty percent of books sold are romances,” Lila said. “Did you know that?”
Hunter laughed, putting his hands up in defense.
“Whoa, ladies, I didn’t mean it that way.
I was more reflecting on my own romantic life, of which there is none, after a humiliating heartbreak.
Nothing to do with your writing, Ms. Sinclair.
Actually Dorian was telling me how good you are at your craft. Which I appreciate more than most.”
We all softened at once.
“Why more than most?” Seraphina asked, finally looking at him.
“It’s a long story,” Hunter said, clearly not about to elaborate. “Now, I’m going to leave this bottle—on the house—as a peace offering. Don’t jump me later, okay?”
This made us all laugh.
“Sorry about my friends,” Seraphina said, staring back at her plate, tips of her ears pink. “They’re fiercely protective.”
“As they should be,” Hunter said. “Enjoy the rest of your evening.”
After he’d returned to his place behind the bar, I said quietly, “He’s sort of an enigma, right?”
“Yeah, what’s his story?” Lila asked.
“Maybe he’s running from his past,” Esme said. “Or starting fresh?”
“He’s handsome,” Lila said. “If you like the brooding, rustic type.”
“Really? I hadn’t noticed,” Seraphina said.
“You’re so full of it,” Delphine said. “You turn pink every time he talks to us.”
“I do not,” Seraphina said, sounding the same age as our kids. “He’s got that cowboy vibe. Which, you know, I like.”
“You’re all about the cowboys and country music,” Delphine said.
“You do look good in your cowgirl boots,” Lila said. “You should wear them next time we come in here. With those jean shorts you have. You’d rock that look. And I’ve no doubt the cowboy behind the bar would notice your ridiculously long legs.”
“Don’t be silly,” Seraphina said. “I don’t have time for a cowboy. I barely have time for you four.”
“Never say never,” I said. “Look at me. Love found me despite the odds. I wish it for each one of you.”
“Don’t tell me you’re conspiring with the kids now,” Delphine said, laughing. “There’s nothing worse than a friend newly in love.”
I tossed my hair. “All right. I’ll leave it alone. But if any of you change your mind, I’m here for you.”
“We’re always here for one another,” Lila said. “That’s the one thing we know for sure.”
Seraphina lifted her glass. “To the word ‘friend’ as a verb.”
We all clinked glasses. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Hunter watching our table. I turned just slightly to get a better view. And darned if he wasn’t staring at Seraphina.