Yes, I did say that.” Mrs. Brantley heaved a great sigh.
Beth stepped forward with the credit card and receipt and offered a pen.
“It’s been a long, emotional day for you.” William actually patted Mrs. Brantley’s hand. Fortunately not the one holding the pen.
Nodding, Cara’s mother signed and now it was Beth’s turn to sigh in relief. But silently.
They all agreed to come back and order the bridesmaids’ dresses another day, and within five minutes, Beth was alone.
Except for William.
Tie loosened, he sprawled on the sofa with a self-satisfied look on his face. It was an appealing face, Beth supposed, although how that substantial nose and those crinkled eyes and the general rumpled effect of the rest of it managed to look attractive, baffled her.
He did not fit her vision of a romantic partner. Frankly, he wasn’t fitting her vision of a business partner. She served champagne and he offered his customers beer, thus perfectly illustrating their different outlooks on business and life.
“What are you still doing here?” she asked.
“Rescuin’ yer cute li’l butt.”
She narrowed her eyes. “You ran the vacuum cleaner on purpose, didn’t you?”
“Yes, I did.”
“William!”
“Just trying to hurry them along.”
“But you jeopardized an important sale!”
“That girl and her mother have been in three times already, and you’re exhausted. I could hear it in your voice.”
“You were listening?”
“You bet I was.” He gave her a stern look. “It’s late and you’re here all alone.”
William had spent his evening in the fitting room that shared a wall with hers to make sure she was safe. If the appointment hadn’t dragged on so long, she’d never have known. “You were looking out for me.”
A corner of his mouth tilted upward. “I always do.”
Now how could she stay angry at him?
William patted the sofa. “Come have a seat, Beth Ann.”
“Elizabeth,” she corrected automatically. “And I’d better not.”
He regarded her a moment before standing. “You’ll always be Beth Ann to me.”
Thinking he was on his way back to Tuxedo Park, Beth started to enter Cara’s dress information into the new handheld computerized ordering units. But William took her by the shoulders and propelled her to the sofa.
“William, I’ve got work to do,” she protested.
“Time for a break.” He pushed at her shoulders until she gave in and sat down.
Oh, that felt good.
“Put your feet up.”
Beth shook her head as he sat next to her. “It’s late.”
But when he reached for her feet and propped them on his lap, she surrendered. Weak, that’s what she was.
Easing off one of her black pumps, William tsked at the red line where the stiff leather had pressed against her swollen foot. “You should wear more comfortable shoes.”
“These look elegant.”
“Do you think anyone notices?”
Beth pulled her foot away and sat up. “Yes. Yes, I do. It’s all about appearances, William.”
He tugged on her other shoe. “You appear not to have a life outside this salon.”
“Oh, please. So I work hard. You do, too.”
“But I also play hard. You don’t play at all.”
As her shoe hit the floor, Beth realized that she had no idea what William did when he wasn’t at Tuxedo Park. If anything, she assumed he used the time to catch up on chores and the minutiae of life like she did. “What do you do?”
“Well, let’s see. I belong to a hiking club. I’m also a volunteer guide for Rocky Falls Park.”
She’d been expecting him to say he kicked back and took it easy.
“And a couple of years ago, I tried my hand at brewing my own beer. I joined the microbrewers’ co-op. Those are the beers I serve next door. The one with the tuxedo on the label is my recipe.” He smiled. “I’m kinda proud of that. Lean back.”
Stunned, Beth leaned. “Anything else?” There couldn’t be anything else, could there?
“I’ve been known to take off and fish. I also support Prom Pals, the group that provides tuxes to guys who can’t afford to rent them.” William started massaging her foot. “And I’ve attended services at all six churches in Rocky Falls.”
Beth stared at him. “I had no idea.”
“I know.” He stared back as he worked on her foot, flexing it to stretch her Achilles’ tendon.
“Why didn’t you ever mention any of that?”
“You never asked.”
“How was I to know? You should have said something!”
He moved to the other foot. “You’re only interested in William. That’s Bill’s life.”
“You are Bill.”
“Exactly. I am not William. He’s this starchy formal character you created.”
Beth opened and closed her mouth. Clearly, William had issues with their business model. “You want me to call you Bill? Is that it?”
“I want you to think of me as Bill.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Then it’s time I explained it to you.”
“But—”
“Relax,” he murmured, and his fingers began to work their magic.
The tension of the day melted beneath his warm hands. He slowly stroked her ankles and calves before gripping her feet and squeezing all the numb places on her toes.
“Ooooh, you give the best foot rubs.” Closing her eyes, Beth sighed and went limp—for just a moment—against the sofa. “Mmm.” She settled more deeply into the cushions. “That feels soooo goooood.”
He pulled at the end of her hose so her toes could straighten out. “Oh, yes,”
