eventually.” Down the road, once his pride had fully recovered and he was no longer worried that friendship between them would give their manipulative families false hope. “After all, we’ve known each other for most of our lives.”
“Friends,” she echoed. “Then you aren’t mad at me for breaking up with you?”
“No. I wish you’d told me sooner that you were unhappy, but I’m not mad.”
“I...” She chose her words carefully, haltingly. “I wasn’t unhappy, exactly. I care a lot about you. We had a very comfortable relationship built on mutual respect. It just...wasn’t enough.”
“Yeah. I get that.” His scandal-phobic family, still reeling from the antics of his infamous uncle, had always encouraged Daniel to live a muted existence, but why should Felicity settle for that? Why should I? “Look, I really have to get to this meeting, but please know that you’re welcome at the wedding if you change your mind.”
“Thank you.”
He hung up the phone thinking half a dozen things at once—from wondering whether he’d convinced her to attend the wedding to being relieved that hearing her voice hadn’t hurt. But his strongest reaction was disappointment that it hadn’t been Mia on the other end. He made himself a deal as he caught the elevator downstairs: if Mia hadn’t gotten in touch by the time his committee meeting ended, he would call her.
They’d had a lot of fun during dinner the other night. Yes, he’d screwed up the last twenty minutes of the date, but if Eli was right about flowers smoothing over social gaffes, maybe Mia would be willing to see him again.
Curriculum meetings were long and boring. Daniel usually resented the intrusion on his schedule. But leaning back in his chair and imagining the best-case scenarios of his upcoming conversation with Mia made it the most enjoyable hour of his day.
* * *
AS IT TURNED OUT, Shannon needn’t have worried about what to do if Daniel called the office phone because he called Mia’s cell phone directly. When she saw his name on the caller display, she briefly considered ignoring him to continue the email she was typing. Avoidance is the coward’s way out.
With a sigh, she hit the accept button. “Hello,” she said flatly.
“Hi. It’s Daniel. I, uh... Did you get the flowers I sent?”
“I did.” What she didn’t get was why. What were they supposed to accomplish? “They add a nice splash of color to the office.”
“Good.”
A long pause stretched between them, an almost expectant silence. If she’d opened solitaire on her computer, she could be halfway through a game by now. “Thank you for the flowers, Daniel.” Was that why he’d called, to give her the opportunity to express socially mandated gratitude? If so, mission accomplished. Now he could go away. “But I have a lot to do and—”
“I meant what I said in the card,” he blurted. “I really am sorry.”
She rolled her chair away from the desk and stood, agitated enough to pace. “Sorry for what, specifically?” If he said he regretted kissing her, she was hanging up on him.
“For my loss of control. We had a great evening, until I mauled you in a public place. Not even a romantic place—a parking lot overlooking the street.”
Though she might tout the importance of ambience to her clients, in Mia’s opinion, geography wasn’t what made a moment romantic. She and Daniel had created their own mood.
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