They had a thick, camel-colored blanket on the padded bench and the fire was roaring. There were thick potted pine trees placed around the area with brightly colored Christmas lights on them.
Will gestured to the bench and she walked over and sat down on it. Joining her on the comfy seat, he draped the blanket over both of their laps. He saw one of the waitstaff standing discreetly out of the way and signaled the man to bring their meal.
As the food and a table were arranged in front of them, he stretched his arm behind her on the bench and leaned in. The clean floral scent of her perfume surrounded him. He closed his eyes, reminded of a spring day in the mountains near his home in California.
“I didn’t ask if you had any dietary needs,” he said.
“None,” she admitted. “Healthy as a horse.”
She shook her head and covered her mouth with one hand. “Maybe this would be more romantic if I didn’t talk.”
“Not at all. I like hearing you talk. So you think this is romantic?”
She gave him a sardonic look. “As if you didn’t know. Yes, any woman worth her salt would think this was romantic.”
“What’s the problem then?” he asked, because there was definitely something more going on here.
“Just me being me. When I’m in a setting like this, I want to be perfect and all the ways that I’m not seem to make me stumble. I’m sorry... I want to be the glamorous sort of girl who’d fit right in here, but I’m going to say dumb things.”
“No, you’re not,” he said softly.
“Trust me—I am.”
“Honey, you’re going to say things that are going to show me who you really are.” Turning toward her, he stared into her captivating blue eyes. “Besides, I’m not interested in someone who is pretending to be perfect.”
* * *
PENNY ENJOYED THE dinner that Will had ordered. It was just a smorgasbord of meats and cheese and artisanal breads from the Park City Bakery. But what made the dinner so lovely was Will. He was funny and urbane. Obviously well-traveled and cultured.
Being with him made her realize how lacking Butch had been in those departments. He put her at ease. Made her feel like it was okay to be herself. And for the first time since she’d learned Butch was married, she felt a spark of hope.
“You look very determined,” Will said as he finished off the last of a cheese straw.
“Do I? I was hoping to look intriguing,” she said with a self-deprecating laugh.
“It’s hard when you keep laughing. Femme fatales don’t laugh,” he said.
“They don’t? I’ve met a few spies and they do laugh,” she said.
“Do they? How do you know they were spies? Maybe they were just pretending,” he said.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if they were. My mom is a lobbyist so I’ve met all kinds of people in DC. Speaking of which...what do you do? You haven’t said.”
“Sorry to say, I’m not a spy. In fact, I’m in commodities, so not even a really exciting job.”
“I don’t know that that means. Are you a trader?”
“More of a speculative investor. Commodities are things so I invest in things, not in people or ideas.”
“Interesting,” she said, still having no idea what he did.
He laughed. “I spend a lot of time on the internet doing research and reading company profiles before deciding if I should invest in them and their products.”
“Is it profitable?”
“Usually,” he said. “What do you do?”
“I’m sort of between jobs at the moment. I was the senior event planner for Papillion Clothiers,” she said.
“Interesting,” he said with a half grin.
She arched a brow. “Don’t tell me you don’t know what that is.”
“I’ve heard of Papillion and I know what an event planner does, but I’m struggling to put the two together.”
“Mostly I plan events around the various fashion weeks for our high-end clients,” she said.
He glanced at her curiously. “Do you like it?”
“I love it. Clothes and parties, what more could a girl ask for?”
“Truly? Is that all it takes to make you happy?” he asked quietly.
Suddenly, she didn’t feel like being light and pretending everything was perfect, but she knew she had to keep up the charade. No matter that he made her feel like it was okay to be herself. The past had taught her it wasn’t. “Most days. Especially at work. It’s a world I enjoy and I like getting paid for it.”
“But in your personal life?”
“I like clothes and parties in that, too, but that’s not all I need to be happy,” she told him.
“What is?”
“I think defining happiness isn’t a first-date subject,” she said evasively.
“Is that so?” He leaned in closer and the scent of his spicy aftershave surrounded her. “As far as I’m concerned, there’s not a better time.”
“Why?”
“Because we don’t know each other well enough to put up barriers. Right now there is just potential and we can be as honest with each other as we want to be.”
“Okay, then. What makes you happy?” she asked. “If you want to do this, then you can go first.”
“Touché,” he said.
“It’s harder than you thought it would be, isn’t it?”
“Not at all. I’m just not all that into happiness. I’m more a contentment sort of guy,” he replied.
“Really? Why is that?”
Will shrugged his broad shoulders and gave her an inscrutable look. “Happiness is a chimera. Something shimmering in the distance that most of us keep striving toward but never really reach. But contentment is easier. I mean, right now I’ve had a nice dinner with a very beautiful woman in front of a roaring fire. Nothing could be simpler than that.”
Penny thought about what he’d said. There was more truth to it than she wanted there to be. He’d been honest and now she had to be, too. She owed it to the man who saw happiness dancing just out of his reach to stop pretending to be something she wasn’t. Ultimately, she knew that she couldn’t make another person happy. She never had been able to do it and doubted that in this moment with this man it would be any different. Contentment
