Janice said, then dropped the envelope into Carolyn’s palm. “The romance of the century is taking place here and we only know the identity of one half of the dewy-eyed couple. You.”
“I am not half of a dewy-eyed couple, for Pete’s sake. Goodbye.”
As soon as Janice left, Carolyn dropped the envelope onto the top of her desk and stared at it as she toyed with the idea of just tearing it in two and throwing it in the trash. She knew exactly what would be written on the card, as it would no doubt be the same words as the previous two cards that had arrived with the gorgeous flowers.
Carolyn, she mentally recited, I’m sorry. Please forgive me and agree to have lunch with me. Ryan.
“Oh, he’s driving me over the edge,” Carolyn said, snatching up the envelope and taking out the card. “Yep, there it is. ‘Carolyn, I’m sorry. Please forgive me and agree to have lunch with me. Ryan.’ Well, I’ve had enough of this, thank you very much.”
She removed the telephone book from the bottom drawer of her desk, plunked it on the desk and began to flip through the pages with more force than was necessary. When she found the number she wanted, she punched them on the telephone and heard the ringing on the other end of the line.
“MacAllister Architects,” a woman said cheerfully. “May I help you?”
“Ryan Sharpe, please,” Carolyn said, drumming the fingers of one hand on the top of the desk.
“One moment, please, and I’ll connect you.”
“A thousand one, a thousand two,” Carolyn muttered, “a thousand—”
“Ryan Sharpe.”
Oh, my, Carolyn thought. She didn’t remember Ryan’s voice being quite that deep, quite that rumbly, quite that…male and…
“Hello?”
“Yes,” Carolyn said, much too loudly. “I mean, Ryan? This is Carolyn St. John. You have got to stop sending flowers to me. I mean, they’re really lovely and it smells heavenly in here, but my office is starting to look like a garden or a funeral parlor.
“Not only that but the staff is having a field day trying to figure out who my romantic— That is, who is sending them and… It’s very disruptive to our routine. So just stop it.”
“Okay,” Ryan said.
Carolyn frowned. “That’s it? Okay? No pleading your case? Nothing?”
“Nope. I’ll stop sending the flowers as soon as you agree to have lunch with me.”
“That’s blackmail, Ryan Sharpe,” Carolyn said, smacking the desktop with the palm of her hand.
“Whatever works. Lunch? Today? I’ll come by your office and pick you up.”
“Don’t you dare,” Carolyn said, stiffening in her chair. “Everyone here will go bonkers if they can put a face with the flowers. No, no, no.”
“Then I’ll meet you wherever you say. Noon.” Ryan paused. “There’s a deli around the corner from your building that makes great subs, if you’re open to suggestions.”
No, not that deli, Carolyn thought. She’d gone there once, and the popular restaurant was so crowded and noisy that her hearing aids had shrilled painfully in her ears.
Oh, drat, she didn’t want to have lunch with Ryan. She didn’t want to even see the man again. The continuous stream of beautiful flowers had caused him to take front row center in her mind and follow her into her dreams at night. He was driving her crazy.
Well, there was only one way to end his ridiculous performance. Suffer through one lunch with him and that would be that. Fine. No, it wasn’t, but what choice did she have?
“Carolyn?”
“Yes, all right,” she said, sighing. “But not the deli. There’s a small restaurant that’s fashioned after an English pub in the next block. I can’t remember the name of it but…”
“I know the place. Nice choice. It’s very cozy, rather…intimate, shall we say. I’ll see you there at noon sharp.’ Bye.”
“Goodbye,” Carolyn said, then her shoulders slumped with defeat as she replaced the receiver.
At exactly one minute before noon, Carolyn stood outside the intricately carved wooden door of the quaint little restaurant, and mentally pleaded with the butterflies to stop their frenzied flight in her stomach.
She wished she’d worn something more flattering today, she thought suddenly. Her gray suit with the pink blouse was very professional, she supposed, but she’d had it for several years, and the cut of the jacket was out of style and borderline frumpy.
Oh, for Pete’s sake, what difference did it make? This wasn’t a lunch date where she was attempting to impress. She’d been blackmailed into this meeting, a fact she was still angry about.
So why was she so shaken up about seeing Ryan Sharpe again? Oh, forget it. There was no point in asking herself a question she didn’t know the answer to.
“Get a grip,” she ordered herself, then squared her shoulders, lifted her chin and entered the restaurant.
She stopped immediately to allow her eyes to adjust from the bright sunlight to the rather dim, rosy glow created by candles burning on each of the small, cloth-covered tables. A smiling man in a suit and tie suddenly appeared before her.
“Ms. St. John?” he said, complete with a crisp, British accent.
“Yes, but how did you know that I’m…”
“Your gentleman told me that a lovely woman with dark hair, and eyes the color of a summer sky would be joining him,” the man said. “You most definitely fit that description, madam.”
“I do?” Carolyn smiled. “Well, fancy that.” She frowned in the next instant. “What I mean is, yes, I’m Ms. St. John and I’m rather pressed for time, so if Mr. Sharpe has already arrived would you be so kind as to show me to his table…sir?”
“Of course. If you’ll follow me, please?”
Forget it, buster, Carolyn thought. The butterflies had now doubled in number, her knees were trembling and… She did not want to be here. She did not want to see Ryan Sharpe again. She did not want…
“Madam?” the man said, from several feet away.
“Oh. Yes,” Carolyn said, starting forward. “Certainly.”
As Carolyn followed the ever-so-proper man, she saw Ryan seated at a table in the distance. Her heart quickened as he smiled and got to his feet.
How strange, Carolyn thought rather dreamily. The butterflies had zoomed out of her stomach and fluttered down to create a magic carpet that was floating her toward Ryan, because she surely wasn’t doing anything so mundane as putting one foot in front of the other. Oh, no, not when Ryan was smiling that smile and gazing at her with those mesmerizing obsidian eyes
