She’d love to meet Mr. Right. She just wasn’t sure he existed…or if Miles was interested in anything beyond the short-term.
But what was wrong with a fling…with a hot, younger man?
Really? No. Stop it.
Was this some sort of subconscious pattern? Most of the men she’d been interested in had been emotionally unavailable. And sure, there had been others, too, but certainly no one she’d ever wanted to commit to. They’d simply had a good time while it lasted and went their separate ways.
Sydney remembered the feel of Miles’s lips on hers. Just because she might be leaving soon didn’t mean she had to take a vow of chastity. Really.
The thought set Sydney’s stomach aflutter.
So her friends were all married and she was the only single lady on the set. This was definitely a glass-half-empty-or-half-full situation.
Half empty meant that in preparation for leaving, she would cut herself off from a romance, even if it was just a fling.
Half full meant she would have the fling and not overthink things.
Perhaps she needed to adjust her optimism glasses. She clicked the phone off and squared her shoulders.
“You wouldn’t think less of me if I started seeing our boss?”
All three of her friends started talking at once, and while she couldn’t make out exactly what they were saying, the general tone was happy and excited. It definitely sounded as if they were in favor of the possibility.
Sydney put her hands over her ears, the universal sign for quiet, and they piped down.
“Will you please text him back and tell him you want to see him ASAP?” said A.J.
“No, don’t say that,” said Caroline. “He’ll ask to see you tonight, and we’re certainly not going to give you up. This is our night with you. In fact, something must’ve been in the air because A.J. picked the DVD Past Midnight, because you’ve never seen it.”
Sydney grimaced. “There’s a reason I haven’t seen it. I don’t want to. I don’t do scary, remember?”
“Well, darlin’,” said Pepper, “You’re going to have to buck up on this one. The first rule of landing a man is to know as much about him as possible. And your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to get a big taste of Mr. Mercer and share every delicious detail with us. So, this is the perfect place to start, right after you text him back and make plans for tomorrow.”
Past Midnight was possibly one of the scariest movies Sydney had ever seen. Even if she hadn’t seen many, she couldn’t imagine anything much worse.
It manifested the kinds of uncomfortable feelings that haunted you long after the movie ended. It made you afraid to be alone in your own house. This was the reason Sydney didn’t watch scary movies. She liked feeling safe and sound in her own space. Even though she wasn’t a hopeless romantic, she’d take a happily-ever-after over a creep fest any day.
What made Past Midnight worse was that Miles had based it on a true story that had unfolded not too far from Sydney’s own safe, secure sanctuary of a house. The basis of the plot was that Miles’s great-great-grandfather had been accused of murder but ultimately acquitted. After the family had fallen on hard times, he’d sold off his land, the Whispering Willow Ranch, and the new owners kept discovering dead bodies on the land. Just five years ago, another body had turned up. The corpse was believed to have been a victim of the Whispering Willow Ranch murderer. The legend, which Miles explored in the movie, said that the ghost of the first person killed, a woman who was believed to be Miles’s great-great-grandmother, kept dredging up the bodies. Even in the twenty-first century.
A quiver of anxiety shimmered in Sydney.
Bloody hell, who knew when or where the next skeleton would surface? Maybe when someone was out planting in their garden or when a golfer hit a ball off the green into the rough?
Sydney hugged herself, taking a few calming yoga breaths, trying to quell her rapidly growing unease. It was working until something tripped the motion detector on the backyard floodlights. She let out a little yelp and nearly jumped out of her skin.
“Curse you, Miles Mercer,” she grumbled as she turned off the living room light so that she could see better outside. She wouldn’t allow herself to think that the other reason she was standing in the dark was in case a person—alive or dead—had tripped it, they wouldn’t be able to see her as easily. She did her best to stay away from the back window while still trying to see what on earth might have tripped the light.
“It was probably an animal of some sort,” she said aloud. “An opossum or raccoon. Or an armadillo.”
Did armadillos come out at night?
Her fright soon turned to irritation.
She was terrified because of a stupid movie. A stupid movie, based on a true story. Maybe she should’ve taken A.J. up on the offer to stay the night at her house. Sydney had said thanks but no thanks because A) she liked to sleep in her own bed, and B) she was afraid A.J. might start pressuring her about the Lamaze class and the godparent situation.
A.J. had been good and not mentioned it again at the tasting or tonight at the girls’ movie night. Sydney wondered if A.J. was being polite and giving Sydney her space to think it over or if she’d been maybe a little hesitant to bring it up in front of the other girls.
Would they get jealous? If so, then the one with the jealous streak would definitely be the best coach and godparent candidate. In retrospect, Sydney was sorry she hadn’t tested this theory herself and brought it up tonight to see how the others would react.
The sensor light switched off, making Sydney jump again. She went to the windows and pulled the drapes. But that didn’t make her feel much better or protected.
Another wave of ire flashed through her. She went to her purse and dug out her cell phone. The time display glowed 12:52.
She pressed a button and clicked over to her texts. Miles’s texts flashed onto the screen.
Miles: When can I see you again?
Sydney: Tomorrow?
Miles: Why not tonight?
Sydney: I’m busy
Miles: Date?
She’d thought about texting back some glib answer or a :)—something vague to make him wonder. She finally decided that no answer might be the best answer.
Through the sides of the curtain, she saw that the sensor light had tripped again. A shiver racked her whole body.
The next thing she knew, she was ringing Miles’s cell phone. She was sure she’d get his voice mail. At this hour didn’t everyone turn off their ringer?
She was composing a terse but humorous message to the tune of how since she couldn’t sleep after watching his horror movie, she thought she’d return the love and wake him up so he could keep her company.
She could be this “clever” speaking to voicemail.
“Hello?”
Oh, dear God, he picked up.
Her first impulse was to hang up.
But then he said, “Sydney?”
She squeezed her eyes closed tightly.
“Yes?” Her voice was stuck somewhere in the back of her closing throat.
“Everything okay?”
What were those terse yet humorous words she’d been crafting? She’d already swallowed them. They were nowhere to be found.
“Yes,” was all she could manage, but then she decided to take another tactic. “I’m sorry to bother you, but I was thinking, we’re way behind on choosing the Celebration’s Bride finalists. We need to meet about that first thing on Monday morning.”
She felt herself cringe in the ensuing silence.
“It’s nearly one o’clock in the morning.” His voice was flat. “You’re calling me about work?”
Silence deader than the bodies that had turned up on the Whispering Willow Ranch stretched between them.
“No. Not exactly.”
He chuckled, low and sexy and Sydney wasn’t sure whether the sound soothed or irritated her. Was it possible for it to affect her both ways?
He could b
e the most infuriating man who had the most peculiar effect on her.
“Then, if you’re not calling about work, it must be personal. What can I do for you, Sydney?”
The insinuation in his voice was clear. But she loved the way her name sounded as it crossed his lips. She closed her eyes against the heat that blossomed in private parts of her body that hadn’t come alive in a very long time.
“Do you want me to come over?” he offered.
This was absurd. Of course, that’s what he’d think she wanted. A Past Midnight booty call.
The reality of it was quite embarrassing.
“I’m sorry for bothering you Miles,” she said. “I shouldn’t have called so late.”
“On the contrary.” His voice had lost its teasing edge and sounded…sincere. “At least now I know whatever was keeping you busy tonight is over and whoever you were with isn’t claiming you for the entire night.”
Sydney drew in a quick breath. Why did it make her happy to know that the thought of her being busy tonight had bothered him a little?
“Would it have mattered if whoever I was with tonight had kept me all night? Because I considered staying the night.”
There was more silence on the line. “I suppose it would depend on what kind of slumber party it was.”
“I don’t know what kind of party you would’ve called it,” she said. “But I contemplated staying because I was too frightened to go home. And it’s all your fault.”
He chuckled. “My fault? I’m not the boogeyman. What did I do to frighten you?”
She walked to the refrigerator and drew water for the kettle to make herself a cup of herbal tea.
“It’s that movie of yours,” she confessed. “I’d never seen it until tonight. It scared the bejabbers out of me.”
“I’ve always wondered,” he said, “what exactly is a bejabber?”
“I don’t know because I don’t have any left,” Sydney said. “They were all scared away.”
“And it was my fault.”
The automatic floodlight in the back clicked off.
“Yes.”
“Well, then you must allow me to make it up to you.”
“How exactly do you propose to do that?”
“My offer still stands to come over and…protect you.”
“Somehow, I think that might be more dangerous than if I stayed here by myself.”
The light in the backyard was off. Whatever had tripped it was gone. Or maybe the wind had settled down. She was breathing easier now.
“Then how about brunch tomorrow?”
Sydney caught herself smiling so broadly that her face hurt.
“That sounds lovely,” she said. “What time should I be ready?”
Chapter Seven
The next morning, Miles picked up Sydney at eleven o’clock. She looked gorgeous in her yellow sundress that showed off her long, tanned legs. As he walked her to the car, he had to fist his hands at his sides to keep from touching her to see if her skin really was as soft and smooth as it looked.
Soon, they were sitting at an intimate table for two at Bistro St. Germain, chatting over orders of cedar-plank grilled salmon, salad niçoise and tall glasses of sweet tea. Minutes stretched into hours.
The conversation flowed so easily and naturally between them that they were soon confiding details of their lives that they’d never shared with anyone.
He’d known her less than a week. That was the thing about this woman. She wasn’t just beautiful, she was smart and funny and so easy to talk to. It only seemed natural that they’d confide in each other.
“So you’re saying that downtown Celebration remains almost completely unchanged from when you were growing up?” Sydney asked.
“It’s like a step back in time,” Miles said. “Like I never left.”
“That’s crazy,” she said. “But it sort of reminds me of my past, too. It’s like a little European shopping village with all its sidewalk cafés and connected storefronts. I love all the flowers in the window boxes and the awnings that stretch out over the sidewalks. They remind me of protective hands shielding the customers from the summer sun. Okay, that was a little corny, but it’s true.”
They both laughed. It wasn’t corny. It was poetic and honest.
“I guess it just looks like home to me.” Miles pushed up the sleeves of his blue oxford cloth shirt as he tried to ignore the emotional tug-of-war taking place in his heart. On one hand, it was good to be home; on the other, he and his father had a lot of baggage to sort out before he could truly feel at home.
To make matters worse, his little sister, Lucy, had called him asking him to speak at her school’s career day. He knew she’d already invited their father. She’d hedged when he’d asked her if she could bring two guests. Then she’d gone on about how her friends would find Miles’s job much more interesting than their father’s.
“I shouldn’t have invited him anyway,” she’d said. “He’ll just embarrass me.”
Their mother had said several times how happy their father had been when Lucy had invited him as her guest. There was no way Miles was going to add insult to injury by usurping the career-day spot.
If Lucy could bring two guests, he’d do it. If not, maybe next year.
But today he was here with Sydney and that was all that mattered.
“That’s not a very happy homecoming face,” she said.
Before Miles realized what he was doing, he was telling her about his big, crazy family and how the majority of his clan thought his success was the coolest thing that had happened to the Mercers in ages.
However, ultimately, the movie Past Midnight had opened a canyon-size estrangement between his father and him. The long-standing rift, which they’d never discussed, still weighed him down like a metaphorical ball and chain.
“Have you seen him since you’ve been back?” Sydney asked as she sipped her water.
Miles nodded and ran his finger through the condensation that had collected on his water glass.
“That’s a good start, isn’t it?” she asked.
He shrugged as he weighed his words. “Hard to say. He was cordial, but his same old passive-aggressive tendencies surfaced before the night was over. Hey, how about we order some dessert?”
They decided to share the Bananas Foster. It crossed Miles’s mind that he would sample every menu item Bistro St. Germain had to offer if it meant prolonging the day with her. Yet, even though it was good to be able to open up to her so easily, he didn’t want to scare her off by dumping too much family drama on their first date.
After they ordered, she said, “So what does your mother think about this disagreement? Does she take sides?”
Miles laughed. “You obviously don’t know my mother. She’s equal parts Paula Deen and the Little General. Even though my dad is retired military, the family is my mom’s army. She runs it accordingly. There is no way she would let a difference between my father and me interfere with the family dynamics. But you don’t want to hear about this, do you?”
“Yes. I’m interested. Since I didn’t have a big family growing up, I love hearing stories of other people’s family dynamics. How does your father feel about your mother having the upper hand at home?”
“That’s a good question.” He pondered it for a bit. “I guess he doesn’t mind. Really, it was necessary since he was away so much. My parents have this incredible relationship. They’ve been married for nearly forty years. Despite my dad’s issues with me, he and my mom just seem to get it right. Even if they don’t always agree, they love each other and they focus on what’s important. As a couple, they have always been my inspiration. A reminder that true love really does exist. I need that sometimes living in L.A. Sometimes things seem so disposable out there. Especially relationships.”
He could hear himself talking, but he couldn’t believe he was saying these things to her, especially because she was looking a bit dubious.
“It’s true,” he said. “In a w
orld of facades and make believe, my parents are my touchstone. Don’t you believe in love?”
A pensive shadow darkened the shimmer of her green eyes. “I’ve never seen or experienced it.”
“What about your friends? They’re all married. You don’t believe what they have is true love?”
She gave a quick, one-shoulder shrug. “I hope so. But they’ve each been married less than two years. Not that I’m saying they’re not going to last. They just don’t have the forty-year track record that your parents have. They’re like the unicorn couple.”
The label caught him by surprise and nearly made him choke on the sip of tea he’d just taken. “The unicorn couple? I don’t understand. Is this a cartoon I’m not familiar with?”
“No, unicorns are mythological creatures. You hear about them, but has anyone really seen them? I equate true love with unicorns. Lots of talk about it, but who knows if it really exists?”
The server brought their dessert and they settled into enjoying it as the different topics they’d discussed ebbed and flowed.
Hmm, he thought, as he took a bite. He’d never talked about the validity of true love on a first date. Actually, he’d never talked about true love in any of his relationships.
He watched her as she lifted the spoon up to her lips and sampled the sweet. He had the sudden urge to lean in and see if her lips tasted even better than the creamy coolness of the vanilla ice cream and the simple sweetness of the warm caramel and bananas.
He’d wager that they would.
Then again, today, all his senses seemed to be heightened.
“How long have you been away from Celebration?” she asked, her spoon poised in midair in front of her mouth.
“Since I was eighteen,” he said.
“Do you visit often?” she asked.
“I’ve only been back once, believe it or not. Once I left, and after the debacle with my father, I was basically gone.”
“College?”
Miles leaned back and stretched, feeling strangely content in the midst of the good company, despite the fact that she was asking some pretty personal questions. Normally, it would set him on edge, but not today.
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