Close to You

to the
wine store I usually shop at, but they were closed for inventory,
so I came here and found you. I’ve never believed in Fate before,
but I’m willing to if she’s going to lead me to you.”
    She didn’t know what to say to
that.
    He must have sensed that because he
smiled, and the corners of his eyes crinkled in a way that said he
smiled often.
    She felt a shiver of something
unfamiliar. Something scary. She looked behind her, wondering if
she should leave.
    As if he read her mind, he took her
hand, gently but firm. “You’ve been avoiding me.”
    “ I have not,” she stated
indignantly, trying not to notice how warm his hand was. She hadn’t
felt such warmth in years.
    “ You’ve been walking at
times that won’t coincide with my golf game.” He smiled. “Don’t
deny it. You’re not the type of woman who’d stop walking
altogether.”
    “ I’ve been busy,” she said
vaguely.
    “ I realize that we had an
unconventional start, so what do you say we do it over again?” He
held her hand in both of his, looking into her eyes. “Hello, my
name is Grant Norquist.”
    Looking into his eyes, she felt the
same way as when she walked into a thick fogbank: disoriented and
lost. Out of touch with time and her surroundings.
    Floating.
    The recent crazy part of
her wanted to throw her arms open, dive, and scream
“ Wee! ” But the
part of her that had been frozen for so long stood
shock-still.
    Grant leaned in, saying
conspiratorially, “This is where you tell me your name
again.”
    “ Margaret Byrnes,” she
said, startling herself.
    “ Margaret Byrnes.” He
repeated it like it was something to savor. “Are you adventurous,
Margaret?”
    “ No,” she said, making sure
her voice was defeatingly final.
    “ Excellent.” He beamed.
“Then we’ll have an adventure.”
    Frowning, she shook her head. “Didn’t
you hear me?”
    “ I did, but I was listening
to the subtext under the words.” He reached out.
    She stiffened. For a second she
thought he was going to hug her, but he reached behind her, grabbed
a bottle, and held it out. “This is quite a fine bottle but even
better, it has a screw top. Which means that when I take to you my
favorite spot in the city we won’t have to worry about
corkscrews.”
    “ I never said I’d go
anywhere with you.”
    “ Because I didn’t give you
a chance.” He tapped his head. “I’m learning.”
    “ I need to go
home.”
    “ Why?”
    She blinked. She hadn’t expected him
to ask. “I have things to do.”
    “ Like laundry?” he asked,
amused. “You don’t need to wash your hair. It’s lovely. You’ve done
something to it.”
    Her hand went reflexively to her head.
She felt her cheeks grow warm, and she realized she was
blushing.
    Blushing .
    She stepped back, pulling her hand out
of his. “I really have to go.”
    “ You’re running away.” He
tipped his head, considering her solemnly. “You don’t seem like a
coward.”
    She stopped in her tracks and glared
at him. “I’m not.”
    “ Prove it.” He held the
bottle up. “Have some wine with me.”
    The reckless feeling rose again,
driving her to do something. Anything.
    And then there was Grant,
standing before her like an aged pirate, offering her something she
hadn’t felt in forever. Her entire being screamed to say yes . Wine with a handsome
man. Conversation. Intimacy.
    She wouldn’t be alone any
longer.
    She could focus on something other
than money.
    She wavered toward him, seeing hope
and pleasure spring into his eyes.
    He’d run when he found out she was
broken and dead on the inside.
    Drooping, she shook her head and
stepped away. “No, thank you.”
    He stopped her with a hand on her arm.
“You deserve to be happy, Margaret.”
    His palm radiated heat, enough to
tempt her into melting. But she shook her head and tugged her arm
free. “You don’t know anything about me.”
    “ I know more than you
think. And when you’re ready to admit to yourself that you deserve
happiness, I’ll be waiting.” He took a card from his shirt pocket
and pressed it into her palm. “Call me, Margaret. If for anything,
then because I’m a good listener.”
    He smiled sadly at her and walked
away. She stood there, holding his card, reaching for her pearls.
Only her pearls felt cold and unwelcoming, and she dropped her
hand, at a loss.
     

Chapter Fifteen
     
    “ Eve Alexander?”
    Eve looked up from where she crouched
behind the bar, stacking glasses. The woman’s voice