“Hey, Major. I’ve been looking forward to this dinner all day.”
He cut his gaze toward George. “I’m sure you have.”
George wasn’t sure how to read the look that passed between Anne and the caterer, who was not wearing a wedding band. George led her out of the kitchen. “How do you know him?”
“Major? He started working for Aunt Maggie when we were in high school.”
George smiled and shook his head.
“What’s so funny?”
He led her through the dining room and opened the french doors. “I grew up in London. For the last five years, I’ve shuttled back and forth between Los Angeles and Manhattan. I knew Bonneterre was smaller, but with a quarter of a million population, it’s not a village. Yet listening to you, seeing how you cannot go outside of your office without seeing someone you know…it’s very quaint.” He held her chair as she sat.
She looked over her shoulder with a grin. “It used to be a lot more ‘quaint’ than it is now. The city has nearly doubled in size in the last ten or fifteen years.”
He sat as she told him about how Bonneterre had changed over her lifetime. At the first lull in the conversation, he stood. “May I offer you a beverage?”
“Oh, that reminds me, you never opened your gift.” She pushed the white bag on the table toward him.
“Quite so.” He reached through the tissue paper and wrapped his hand around something rectangular and solid, with a smooth surface. Drawing it out, he grinned when he saw it. “Is this a hint for later?”
“I thought you liked flavored coffee.” Her protest was overshadowed by the laughter lacing her voice.
“Yes, but if I guess correctly, hazelnut caramel is your favorite flavor.”
She bit her bottom lip, and her smile grew wider. “Busted.”
He loved her laugh. “Would you like some now?”
“No, save it for dessert. I could really go for some iced tea.”
“The only kind we have is without sweetening.”
“That’s fine. I can drink it either way.” She started to stand.
He stopped her with his hand on her shoulder. “No. You’re my guest. Stay there and let me serve you.”
Anne’s blue eyes sparkled, and she squeezed his hand. “Thank you.”
The dinner Major O’Hara put before them was nothing short of perfection, from the spinach salad with muscadine vinaigrette to the medium-rare London broil with Cajun garlic mashed potatoes and sautéed baby asparagus.
“I hope this sets your mind at ease,” Anne said after O’Hara cleared their dinner plates. “Major is one of the best chefs I’ve ever worked with. He’s done a ton of catering for me over the years.”
George reached across the table and covered Anne’s clasped hands. “I’m happy you came.”
The candlelight glittered in the sapphire pools of her eyes. “I’m happy you didn’t mind the intrusion.”
Slow. Take it slow. “Your presence would never be an intrusion.” He leaned closer to her.
They both turned at the sound of a cleared throat. “Are you ready for dessert?” O’Hara stood in the doorway, a silver tray balanced on one hand, a coffee service cart beside him.
Anne groaned dramatically. “I don’t know how I could eat another bite. What is it?” She leaned back to make room on the table as he stepped forward.
“White chocolate crème brûlée with raspberries.” He put the individual dishes in front of them. “The coffee is hazelnut caramel.”
George couldn’t stop looking at Anne. The chef poured the steaming, fragrant liquid into fine china cups, set the silver coffeepot on the sideboard, and withdrew.
She closed her eyes and sighed as she savored the first bite of the custard dessert. Tonight had been a revelation to George. When she wasn’t in business mode—when she was relaxed and not on a time schedule—she truly enjoyed the experience of dining.
“What?” She’d caught him staring.
“I just like watching you.” He was going under deep and fast. Was the pleasure of falling in love with her tonight worth the risk of losing her in a few days?
Her cheeks glowed in the candlelight. “Why?”
“Because you’re beautiful.” He sipped his coffee.
She laughed and shook her head.
“Yes, you are.” He set down his cup and reached over to lift her chin, forcing her to look him in the eye. “You are beautiful, and I don’t know who would have told you otherwise.”
She didn’t speak for a moment, her gaze never wavering. “It was never in so many words.” She put her spoon down. “But the intent was the same.”
“Well, I’m here now—and I’m right, so you’d best believe me.”
The smile he’d become addicted to returned. He tweaked her chin between his thumb and forefinger, then lifted his dessert spoon.
The symphony of crickets, frogs, and other indigenous fauna filled the silence between them. The sky turned red and purple as the sun set on the other side of the house.
Anne sighed and cradled her coffee cup between her hands.
“What is it?” Although his father would have been appalled, he propped his elbows on the edge of the table and leaned toward her.
She swallowed and blinked a few times. “It’s just been a really long time since…” Her voice caught and her bottom lip quivered.
“Since?” Now that he had her to himself, he wasn’t about to let her clam up.
She shrugged, her gaze fixed on the horizon. “Since I stopped to let myself enjoy a quiet eve—” She flinched and reached for the phone clipped to the waistband of her pants. Her shoulders fell when she looked at the caller ID. “I’m so sorry. It’s my client who’s getting married next week.”
He stood and kissed her on the forehead. “I need to go speak with Mr. O’Hara anyway.”
The chef turned as George entered the kitchen. “Is everything all right?”
“Yes. It was a wonderful dinner. My compliments—”
“George, I have to run.” Anne breezed into the kitchen. “There’s a problem with the wedding dress, and I have to go find out if it’s something I can fix or really a problem.”
“I’ll walk you out.” He helped Anne into her suit coat and rested his hand on the small of her back as he escorted her to the front door. “What seems to be amiss?”
“I’m not sure. She was so hysterical she wasn’t coherent. So I’m driving out to her house to see what’s wrong. Hopefully it’ll be an easy fix. If not…well, I have a few days to figure out what to do.” She stopped at the door and turned toward him. “Thank you for a lovely evening. I’m sorry work interfered.”
“Thank you for making it a lovely evening.” He brushed back a lock of hair that had escaped to fall across her forehead. How was it possible that no man had claimed this wonderful woman? “I’ll ring you tomorrow about the final arrangements for the engagement party.” He flinched as the vibrator on his phone startled him. He reached for it as he kissed her on the cheek.
“Good night.”
She graced him with another full smile. “Good night.”
Cliff’s number scrolled across the phone’s screen. He waved goodbye to Anne and lifted the phone to his ear. “Yes, Mr. Ballantine?”
“Courtney may have blown our cover. If any reporters show up there in the next few days, you have to let me know immediately. We’ll have to change all the plans.”
Chapter 19
By Wednesday, George started to relax. No news of the engagement or wedding had appeared in the celebrity press. Cliff had announced he’d be giving a press conference in Bonneterre on Friday, and a private service had been contracted to provide security that night since Cliff didn’t want the local police brought in. Courtney would arrive tomorrow, ostensibly to attend a friend’s wedding.
“George, dude, what is up with you tonight?” Rafe’s voice brought him back to the present—the Fishin’ Shack, where Anne’s cousins had gathered for dinner a night earlier than usual so both Anne and George could attend this week.