by Watson, Lisa
“Yeah, well, it’s affecting us, too, and if you think I’m going to just sit around and watch Adrian screw up his chance at happiness and giving me grandbabies, you can think again.”
*
The telephone chirped loudly causing Milán to grab the stepladder she was on for support. “Good grief,” she gasped with shock.
Taking one step at a time, she got down and turned off the vacuum cleaner and set the telescopic cleaning attachment onto the floor. She walked over to the coffee table and picked up her cell phone.
“Hola, Nyah. ¿Qué tal?”
“Muy bien. The question is, how are you?”
“Good,” Milán said in a chipper voice.
“Are you sure?” her sister persisted.
“Yes, I am, so quit asking. I broke up with Adrian. I didn’t have major surgery.”
“You’re right, what was I thinking? You were only crazy about the guy. Why in the world would I think you weren’t over it? So tell me, sis, what are you doing?”
Closing her eyes, Milán pursed her lips. “Just some tidying up.”
“Tidying, huh. ¿Qué?”
“Not much, just vacuuming my walls.”
Silence ensued.
“You know, to get cobwebs out of the ceilings.”
“Madre de Dios,” her sister replied and then burst into laughter. “You’ve got it bad.”
*
Justin called Adrian a few days later and invited him to dinner.
“I won’t be good company,” he replied in a surly tone.
“We’ll chance it,” his friend replied. “We haven’t seen you in a while.”
“Work’s got me busy,” Adrian hedged.
“All the more reason to get out. Come on, man.”
“Fine. What time?”
*
An hour later, Justin, Sabrina and Adrian were at Francesca’s.
“Isn’t this great?” Sabrina remarked. “The food’s delicious and there’s a nice crowd tonight.”
Justin leaned in. “Quite a bit of eye candy, too.”
Adrian perused the room. “Hadn’t noticed.” He dug into his pocket and retrieved his ringing cell phone. “It’s work,” he said getting up from the table. “Be right back.”
As he stepped outside to take the call, Adrian collided with the person coming in.
“Sorry,” he said automatically.
The smile faded when he saw Milán standing in front of him.
Damn. He muttered to himself. “Sorry but I need to call you right back,” he said before hanging up.
They stood staring at each other. Milán was the first to recover.
“Hi.”
“Hey,” he replied.
Strained silence enveloped them like a canopy. Someone was trying to squeeze by so they came inside.
“How’ve you been?”
“Good,” she said. “You?”
“Just fine. How’s the new job?”
“Doing well. Tony and his staff have been great.”
Any semblance of cordiality dissolved at the mention of Ludlow’s name.
“You must be thrilled,” he said bitingly. “Excuse me, I’ve got a call to return.”
Adrian strode out the door before she could reply.
Spotting Justin and Sabrina when she came in, Milán walked over to say hello.
“You just missed Adrian.” Sabrina told her.
“We ran into each other. Literally.” She glanced over her shoulder. Adrian was heading back into the restaurant. “Well, I have to run. I’m meeting a friend for dinner. It was great seeing you both,” she said cheerfully.
“You, too,” Sabrina replied.
Unfortunately for Milán, when she sat down at her table, she noticed it afforded her a clear vantage point of Adrian’s table. It’s only his profile. At least he’s not right across from you, her conscience pointed out.
“I had no idea we’d run into Adrian,” Tiffany said nervously. “Are you okay?”
“It’s no big deal. It was bound to happen sooner or later,” Milán said dismissively. Picking up her menu, she glossed over the selections. Seconds later, she peeped over the top of it to view Adrian. He was laughing at something Justin had said. Her stomach flittered. She lowered her gaze.
Tiffany followed her line of sight. “Milán, do you want to move to another table?”
She jumped. “Hmm? Uh, no, of course not.”
“Are you sure? Seeing him can’t be easy.”
Milán looked toward his table again. “Hey, I’m a big girl, I can handle it. He and I are ancient history, right? No big deal.”
By the time their meal came to an end, Milan had managed to walk past them to the ladies’ room without incident. She was a bundle of nerves, but it didn’t show on the outside. When she got back to her table, Tiffany had paid the bill and had their leftovers in doggie bags.
“You didn’t have to do that,” Milán protested. “At least let me leave the tip.”
“Fair enough. I figured I’d save us some time,” she replied standing up.
Milán found out their haste was unnecessary. By the time they headed to the entrance, Adrian and his friends were gone. As they walked back to Tiffany’s car, Milán kept up constant chatter. She discussed her latest client, the movie she’d treated herself to the other night and the trouble she’d had trying to convince her family that her life wasn’t coming to an end because of her breakup with Adrian. “I mean, really, I don’t know why they keep harping on it. I can tell by the tone in their voices when they call. Everyone is expecting me to break down and wallow in self-pity. Well, I’m not doing it. I’m perfectly fine.”
“Yeah, I can see that,” Tiffany replied getting into the car.
Milán slid into the passenger seat and buckled her seat belt. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Look, I may not have known you that long, but it’s enough to know that this,” Tiffany said waving her hand toward Milan, “overly perky attitude of yours isn’t fooling a soul.”
“I don’t know how many times or different ways I can say I’m over him, Tiff.”
Her friend looked at her. “It’s not me you have to convince, Milán,” she observed. “It’s yourself.”
*
Milán was viewing her design plan for her client when Tiffany’s words replayed in her head. It’s yourself you have to convince. Frustrated, she threw her pencil down and leaned back in her chair. The last three weeks had been a blur since she’d been hired by Anthony Ludlow. Her new client was cordial, knowledgeable and smart, but something was missing. Truthfully, he just didn’t have the same electricity she’d felt while working with Adrian at Anderson Realty. Admit it, you miss him, she told herself. Seeing him at Francesca’s was like ripping a Band-Aid off a wound.
It was true. She did miss Adrian. Everything about him in fact: the way he bragged about how perfect he was, or how dedicated he was to his company and employees. The way he looked at her with such passion it made her breathless. Just picturing the two of them making love made desire flare up inside her like a wildfire.
“This is getting me nowhere,” Milán complained aloud. Except wanting him. Her thoughts betrayed her. So did her heart. She was miserable without him near, but there was no way she’d just roll over and forgive him. He’d been dead wrong about Ludlow. Not once had he asked about Adrian’s organization and how it functioned. Tony Ludlow was only interested in his own business and how Milán’s expertise enhanced it.
Just thinking about it made her mad all over again. Bolting out of her chair, Milán grabbed her purse and keys. Suddenly, her cell phone rang. She glanced at the screen and grimaced.
“Hi, Jeanie,” she said, trying to sound chipper.
“Hey, honey, how are you?”
“Just fine and you?”
“Good considering I haven’t seen you in several weeks.”
Milán was contrite. “I’m sorry. I haven’t been much of a friend lately. Please forgive me.”
“I don’t know, Jeanie.”
“It’ll be great to have a girls’ night. You wouldn’t deny an old woman, would you?”
“Okay,” Milán laughed. “I’ll be there shortly.”
“Great,” Norma Jean said excitedly. “I’ve cooked up a fantastic meal and I’ve made your favorite—banana pudding.”
She shook her head. “So you knew I’d say yes, huh?”
“Nonsense. I only hoped you would. See you shortly.”
Milán had to chuckle. Norma Jean was used to getting her way. Just like another person she knew.
*
Sitting in Andy’s Jazz Club, Adrian glanced between his father and his best friend. “Is this supposed to be your attempt at an intervention?”
“More like an observation,” Justin replied. “Admit it, you’re miserable without her.”
“I’m not miserable,” Adrian retorted.
“You’ve been cranky, preoccupied and short-tempered, but definitely not miserable,” his father chuckled sipping his drink.
“Look, I know you both mean well, but can we change the subject?”
“Well, I heard the Love Broker has dusted off her black book,” Justin said casually.
“What?” Adrian and his father said simultaneously.
Justin nodded. “Sabrina told me Jeanie’s fixing Milán up with one of the nephews of her choir member. What was his name?… Michael… Martin…”
Adrian sat up ramrod straight. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“Jeanie said it’s time Milán got back on the market. She said since your relationship has ended, there’s no sense in both of you sitting home pining.”
Adrian’s face turned red. “I’m not pining. I’ve had plenty of stuff going on.”
“Yeah, work…yelling at people…work,” Justin snickered.
“Shut up,” Adrian snapped.
After a few moments of deafening silence, Justin whistled and started laughing at Adrian.
“What’s funny?”
“I think you’re going to give me twenty dollars.”
“Excuse me?”
“We made a bet a long time ago, remember? I bet you that love was going to bite you one day. You said it wouldn’t.”
With a grunt, Adrian downed his beer. “So?”
“So, son, I think you owe Justin some money.” Heathcliffe grinned.
Adrian impatiently signaled the waitress for their check. “What I think is that my mother and I are going to clear the air—right now.”
Chapter 30
Norma Jean came into the dining room with a flourish. “I hope you’re ready for dessert.”
“I’m stuffed,” Milán protested.
Norma Jean set a glass bowl in front of her. “There’s always room for dessert.”
She sat down and the two began chatting again.
“Milán, I wish you’d reconsider letting me fix you up. He’s a wonderful man that really knows how to treat a lady,” Norma Jean told her.
“Jeanie, the last thing I need right now is to go out on a date.”
“What date?”
Milán choked on her pudding at the loud voice. She sputtered and wiped her mouth with her napkin. She glanced up to see Adrian hovering in the doorway glaring at them.
Norma Jean said, “Adrian, what a nice surprise.”
“You’re fixing Milán up with some guy from church?” he said without preamble.
“Would you like some dessert, sweetheart?”
“No, I don’t want dessert,” he said tersely. He strode over to the table. “Mother, you promised me you’d butt out.”
“I did no such thing, and I think you’d better change your tone. I’m still your mother,” she admonished.
“Apparently you’re also a dating service.”
Milán got up from her chair. “Adrian, ¿podemos hablar de esto más tarde?”
“No, we’re not going to talk about this later,” he replied. Before she could say more, the doorbell rang.
“I’ll get it,” Norma Jean said quickly. “I’m expecting—”
“I know who you’re expecting,” Adrian thundered. “I’ll get it.”
He brushed past his father and went to answer the door. He wrenched the door open and stood there. “What?”
“Hi… Uh, is Mrs. Anderson here? I’m—”
Adrian eyed the man with disdain. “Let me guess, Michael? Or was it Martin?”
“No, I’m Larry.”
“Listen, Larry, there’s been a mistake. I don’t care what my mother told you, Milán isn’t going out with you—period.”
The man stood there with his mouth open. “I’m not—”
“Adrian,” Norma Jean called from the hallway. She pushed past him. “Knock it off. Larry’s here to drop off the church bulletins,” his mother informed him.
His gaze traveled between his mother and the man standing on the porch. “Really. At this hour?”
Larry held out a box toward Norma Jean. “Here you go, Mrs. Anderson.”
“Thanks, dear. Thank Sister Mabel for me and tell her I hope she’s feeling better.”
“I will, ma’am,” Larry said before hurrying down the steps.
Norma Jean shut the door and turned on her son. “Have you lost your mind?”
Adrian did a double take. “Me? What about you?”
“How about we all sit down and discuss this.” Heathcliffe came up behind them.
“The only thing I’m interested in discussing is how my mother thought it was a brilliant idea to fix up my girlfriend with another man.”
Norma Jean snorted. “What girlfriend? You tossed her aside. Or have you forgotten?” She huffed, and then strode back into the dining room.
Adrian was right on her heels. “I didn’t…that is not what happened, and you know it. Milán was the one that ended things.”
“Because you were trying to roll over her like a steam engine,” his mother shot back. “As usual.”
“Where did you get that idea? I never once treated Milán that way.”
“You sure about that?” his mother quipped.
“Will you both stop talking about me like I’m not here?” Milán said loudly.
Everyone turned to stare at her.
“I’m sorry, dear,” Norma Jean apologized.
“That happens a lot in this house,” Adrian said cynically.
“Pardon my son’s uncouth behavior.”
Adrian rolled his eyes. “Completely unwarranted, right, Mother?”
“Well it was you that jumped to conclusions about who was at the door. If you’d have let me get a word in, you would’ve known it wasn’t Milán’s date.”
The doorbell chimed again.
Adrian sighed. “Who’s that, the pastor?”
A smug look crossed his mother’s face. “No, that is Milán’s date.”
“What?” Milán gaped in surprise. “Jeanie, you didn’t. I didn’t agree to this.”
Adrian shook his head. “Why would my mother ever let something trivial like a person’s wishes get in the way?” He glanced at his mother. “You should answer the door. If I do, I guarantee things won’t turn out the way you planned.”
He turned to Milán. “Tenemos que hablar. Ahora, por favor.”
“No tengo nada que decir,” she said wearily.
“Es muy importante.”
“Fine.” She glanced over at his parents. “Please excuse us. Apparently, your son has something important he needs to say.”
*
Milán followed Adrian out onto the deck. The night air was a bit chilly, but she refused to say she was cold. Suddenly, she felt a coat around her. She glanced over her shoulder. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Adrian walked in front of her.
Milán couldn’t help the surge of excitement at seeing him
. It was the same euphoric feelings she got biting into a fresh-out-of-the-oven empanada or anything with warm gooey chocolate. Stay focused. Say what you need to say and leave, her brain warned.
“I didn’t know you’d be here.”
“Your mother invited me for dinner—it was last-minute.”
His mouth raised into a wry smile. “With my mother I doubt that very seriously. Especially since Prince Charming is pounding on the door.”
She bristled at his tone. Milán walked past him and sat down. She inhaled a deep breath and regretted it. Her nostrils were flooded with Adrian’s scent mixed with cologne that lingered on his jacket. Great, she muttered to herself. Undercurrents of desire began to flow through her. She shifted several times in her chair before she said, “So what is it you have to say, Adrian?”
“Did you know about this date?” he demanded.
“Of course not,” she said hotly. “Jeanie invited me to dinner. How would I know a man was going to show up at the door—twice.”
“So you didn’t ask her to do this?”
“No,” she said indignantly. “Why would I?”
“To make me jealous,” he countered.
Milán bolted to her feet. “Does everything have to be about you? No, I’m not trying to make you jealous, Adrian. You’ve made it abundantly clear how you feel about me, and who I’m working for.”
“Actually, that’s not entirely true. I’ve told you how I feel about you working for Ludlow—not how I feel about you.”
She felt like she’d been suckered punched, but Milán held her ground.
“Oh, you’ve told me, Adrian. You don’t trust me. You don’t think I can get a job on my own merit. By the way, you were wrong about Anthony Ludlow. Not once did he ask me anything about you, your company or what you had planned. So you can stop worrying that I’m going to spy on you the first chance I get.”
“You’re putting words in my mouth.”
“If I am, they’re to match your accusations from a few weeks ago,” she threw back at him.
“I apologize for that,” he said with remorse. “Things didn’t come out right.”
“So you’re not sorry for what you said, only how you said it.” She shook her head. Taking off his jacket, Milán handed it to him and moved to leave.