“I’ve made you late for your date.”
She hoped she sounded sincerely sorry because honestly, she wasn’t.
“What date?”
Then awareness reflected on his face. He shook his head.
“You’re referring to my conversation with Linette. That wasn’t a date. I’m going to be serving Thanksgiving dinner to the homeless tomorrow. Linette wanted to go over and help decorate the homeless shelter. I was going to accompany her seeing she is doing it on my behalf. I called and told her I couldn’t make it. There was no way I was going to leave you here alone.”
Ronnie bit her lip and looked down at the sheet.
“Sorry.”
“For what?”
“For taking you away.”
He lifted his shoulders in a shrug.
“It wasn’t entirely your fault. It was also mine. I should have been more attentive. I noticed you were looking a little frail. I should have said something.”
“You were busy with work and your new role as state representative.”
“That’s no excuse,” he said gruffly as though he was angry at himself.
“Is that why you’re doing it?”
“Doing what?”
“Feeding the homeless. Is it a part of your new role?”
“No. For the last few years, that’s how I’ve spent Thanksgiving Day. It has more meaning for me.”
“Rather than be with your family?”
“My mother is dead. My father and I aren’t close.”
“I wish I could spend even one Thanksgiving with my father.”
He glanced away for a minute.
“How come you didn’t go home for Thanksgiving?” he asked.
“I’m going to spend two weeks with my family over Christmas. I didn’t want to travel for Thanksgiving too.”
“It’s only for a few days.”
“I know. Just wasn’t really up to it.”
How could she tell him she really hadn’t been in the thankful mood? She didn’t want to show up looking like she’d lost her best friend and have her mother give her the third degree. Plus, there was the threat of Roger Lancaster being there. She’d used job commitments as an excuse. It seemed to have worked. Last she heard her mother was spending Thanksgiving in L.A. with Dana and her family.
“Thank you, I appreciate you taking the time…” she began.
He took her hand in his and squeezed.
“Don’t even mention it. You know, Thanksgiving is just…” he glanced up at the clock. “…one and a half hours away and I already have something to thank God for. You.”
He swallowed. “I am so thankful you are alright. I don’t know what I would have done if you weren’t.”
He looked down at his shoes then resolutely back up at her.
“Since you don’t have any plans for Thanksgiving, how about I swing by your place tomorrow and have dinner with you?”
She stopped breathing. “You want to have dinner with me?”
“I just promised Dr. Graham I’d make sure you ate. What better way to do that than to be sitting opposite you and what better time than tomorrow.”
Chapter 17
David served turkey to the next person in line and stole a glance at the clock on the wall for the tenth time in as many minutes. He didn’t want to be late for his dinner with Ronnie.
Linette had come over to help serve, and he appreciated the gesture, but he was concerned that she was getting too attached to him. Even though he tried to avoid any conversation that would lead her to think she meant more to him than she did, he wasn’t naive enough to think that she was doing all this out of the goodness of her heart. He knew enough about Linette to see that she wasn’t really the sort to get her hands dirty if she could help it.
He looked down the line and saw her serving salad at one end. She didn’t look entirely comfortable, but she was soldiering on pretty well. He thought of Ronnie and couldn’t help make comparisons. Ronnie was just so natural, so down to earth, so unpretentious and forthright, so sweet, so kind, so loving.
And he was in love with her.
David took a deep breath.
There was no use denying it to himself any longer. He was hopelessly in love with her. Confirmation had come at that moment while rushing her to the ER that she declared she was going to die. He had never felt so petrified in all his life. That was when he knew. Life would not be worth living if she weren’t going to be there beside him sharing it.
That realization had hit him with such force it reminded him of being knocked off his feet during his final college ball game, a fall that had knocked the very wind out of him, although he did have a touchdown. He had gone out in a blaze of glory, but he was convinced that that fall had shortened his life by at least a year.
And when he heard her say ‘I love you,’ he hadn’t responded. He had acted like he hadn’t heard and at the first opportunity had gone out of the ER for several minutes to take deep breaths. How had he managed to fall in love with his assistant? But he knew the truth. It had happened way before she had come to work in his office. By the time that flight had landed in London, he was already halfway in love with her.
“What are you smiling about?”
David looked around at his fellow server, one of the volunteers from the center, a little old lady in her seventies.
“Wouldn’t you love to know,” he teased gently.
As she laughed, he cast his eyes on the clock again. Three o’clock. Time for him to go.
He normally stayed at the shelter where he dined and chatted with the homeless men. It was often an insightful and humbling experience.
It was so easy to condemn people until you heard their story, and then you realized that under other circumstances that could have been you on the streets.
This Thanksgiving, though, he would be dining elsewhere.
David took off his apron and, signaling for another volunteer to take his place, went over to the shelter director.
“Charles,” he said. “I’ve got to leave now.”
“Sure, David. As always we appreciate your help. This was quite a spread.”
“No problem at all.”
“David,” he heard Linette call out.
He glanced heavenward then took a deep breath, pasted on a smile and turned to her.
“Hi, Linette. Thanks so much for your help today.”
“Anything for you,” she said.
“It’s not really for me. It’s for the homeless.”
“You’re leaving now?”
“Yes, I am.”
“Oh. Where are you going?”
Now would probably be a good time to tell Linette he was going to have dinner with the woman he was in love with. Okay, maybe that wasn’t the best approach. Probably better to just tell Linette he wasn’t interested in her in that way.
“Listen, Linette…”
“Linette Laney? My goodness, it is you,” exclaimed a male voice with a thick, southern accent.
Before David could react, a man reached out and pulled Linette into a tight hug. When he drew back, David assessed him. He had light brown skin and wasn’t bad looking with his green-gray eyes and shock of dark curly hair. He was also several inches shorter than himself, probably 5’ 9”, and looked to be in his early thirties.
“Sorry,” he looked at David apologetically. “I have not seen this woman since high school.”
He reached out his hand to David.
“Lindon Young.”
Lindon and Linette. Okay.
David shook the man’s hand and resisted the urge to smirk.
“David Jones.”
“Why does that name sound familiar.”
“David is the newly elected congressman for this area,” Linette proudly announced.
Lindon nodded. “Yeah. I knew I’d seen your mug somewhere.”
He turned to Linette.
“How about you? What are you up to these days?”
David observed the wolfish way Lindon watch
ed Linette and how she blushed under his appreciative stare. High school sweethearts perhaps?
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
“Charles Fox, the director of the shelter, invited me.”
“You? Why?”
“I work with the UN poverty alleviation fund. He’s got a proposal before us to fund a program to help the homeless get back on their feet.”
“I’ve really got to go. Nice meeting you, Lindon,” David said, as he backed away.
Linette looked conflicted for a moment as if she wanted to stop him on the one hand but on the other wanted to hear more from Lindon. Clearly, the latter desire won out because she allowed David to leave.
David had a bounce to his step as he walked towards his vehicle. Who knew? Lindon Young might be the solution to at least one of his problems.
~*~*~*~
Ronnie checked her appearance…again. She was a nervous wreck. She told herself she shouldn’t read too much into this dinner date since David was now a friend. Given all they’d shared over the last several months, it made sense that he would reach out to her at this special time of the year when she was far from her family and sick to boot.
Simply friends or not, she still wanted to look her best. In a quest to do so, she had changed outfits so many times in the last hour she’d lost count. Her bedroom was littered from door to closet with dresses, tops, pants and skirts. She had vacillated between not wanting to look overdressed and not wanting to look underdressed; between looking like she had tried too hard and looking like she hadn’t tried hard enough.
Eventually, Ronnie decided on a pink, floral, silk blouse paired with pink designer jeans. She spent twenty minutes teasing and tweaking and pinning her hair to achieve a style that looked as though in one deft move she had secured her hair to the top of her head. Similarly, making up her face took half-an-hour so that she could achieve the fresh, clean look. She also kept the jewelry to a minimum, wearing only a thin sterling necklace and the tiniest silver bobs in her ears. She conceded when she looked in the mirror that the effect was flattering.
A quick glance at the clock on the wall revealed that it was now 3:20 p.m. Ronnie decided that to kill time she would clean up the mess in her room. She was hanging up the fourth outfit when her phone gave a ring. She almost jumped out of her skin.
“Lord. Help me. I am a bundle of nerves. Please help me not to make a fool of myself,” she quickly muttered under her breath just before answering.
“I’m just now coming into your building,” David’s deep, sexy voice said.
She took a breath and hoped she sounded blasé when she said, “Sure. I already told the concierge to let you up. Just give him your name.”
When she opened the door, Ronnie almost swooned. David looked amazing in a pink, plaid button-down shirt and gray corduroy jeans. She released a breath she hadn’t even been conscious of holding. Based on his outfit, she was dressed perfectly.
“We’ve dressed alike,” she commented, looking for something to say to hide her nervousness.
His gaze skimmed over her and then down at himself.
“Looks like great minds do think alike,” he said with a smile.
David bore two large paper bags with food. Ronnie led him over to the kitchen.
Placing the bag on a kitchen counter, he said, “I promise you will love this meal. Never mind its packaging isn’t fancy. The cooking is to die for.”
“I hope not literally. Being at death’s door two days in a row may be tempting fate a bit too much,” Ronnie commented drily as she watched David carefully remove several Styrofoam containers from the bag.
Laughing at her joke, he said, “I need some serving spoons and two plates.”
Ronnie quickly bustled around her kitchen to fetch him the requested items.
“You seem a lot better,” he observed. “And you look a lot brighter too.”
“Thanks,” she said, depositing two plates in front of him.
“What did you have for breakfast today?” he asked as she rummaged through her drawer for serving spoons.
“Turkey bacon, scrambled eggs, and waffles.”
“Really?” he asked skeptically.
“Yes.”
Nodding with satisfaction, David began to open lids.
Ronnie placed the serving spoons in front of him and propped a hip against the counter.
Lips twitching, she confessed, “However, I only had one slice of turkey bacon, one waffle and two egg whites.”
“Ronnie…” he began in a warning tone.
“I’ll get back there, David,” she said quickly. “I promise. My appetite is returning.”
In fact, the mouth-watering scents coming from his containers seemed to have set her digestive juices going. She sniffed.
“Umm, what is that smell?” she asked, gesturing to a bowl of some type of stew.
“Spicy curried goat,” David replied with a grin.
“Curried goat? For Thanksgiving?”
“Yes, this is Jamaican-style Thanksgiving.”
“Are you Jamaican now?” she asked with a lifted brow.
“Actually, my maternal grandmother was Jamaican.”
“Really? You know my grandfather was Barbadian.”
“I did not know that.”
“So, we both have Caribbean heritage.”
“Was he black?”
“Yep.”
“It’s not obvious that you’ve got black ancestry.”
“That’s because my mother has both Swedish and Norwegian ancestry. My dad had a Romanian Jewish mother.”
“Fascinating.”
“What’s that you’re dishing out there? It looks like banana.”
“You’ve never had this before? It’s fried plantain.”
“Oh, yeah. I had it on a trip to Barbados. Where’s the turkey?”
David pointed. “Jamaican jerked turkey.”
“What else have you got here?”
He named each dish as he lightly touched each container. There was corn bread stuffing, coconut rice and beans, Creole roasted vegetables, and sweet potato pudding.
Ronnie asked him to serve her a little of everything.
“I can’t wait to dig in,’ she said as they made their way over to the four-seater dining table.
David laughed. “You won’t be disappointed.”
They sat down with their plates and then David asked, “May I bless the meal?”
Placing her hands in his outstretched palms, Ronnie valiantly tried to ignore the racing of her heart at his touch.
“Father God, we thank you for the gift of all life, for the breath that sustains life, for the strength for each new day, for the food that nourishes us, for the love of family and friends. We thank you for the beauty of creation. We thank you for the gift of senses to see, touch, hear, smell and enjoy this wonderful food. We thank you for families who nurture us, for friends who love us by choice, for work colleagues who share our burdens and daily tasks, for children who enrich our moments, for the unborn who offer us hope for the future. We thank you for this day, for life, for one more day to serve our fellow man, for the gift of love, and for one more day to spend in companionship with the ones we love and cherish. Amen.”
Giving her hands a gentle squeeze, David released them.
Ronnie suddenly felt as if her appetite had decreased again. She had so many butterflies in her stomach from his prayer. Had he been referring to her in the last sentence? She wasn’t sure she could get anything down. She needed to try though. She couldn’t have him go to so much trouble and not eat the meal he had provided. So she squeezed out a smile, dipped her head, picked up her fork and proceeded to eat.
“I’m surprised your place is so small,” he commented looking around. “Not that it isn’t very luxurious. I just envisioned you with more space.”
“It’s just me living here. I don’t need that much room.”
He wiped a corner of his mouth with a napkin and said with a twinkle in his
seriously sexy whiskey-colored eyes, “I should have guessed it though. You drive a tiny sports car, so clearly, space isn’t an issue for you.”
Ronnie laughed.
“Let me share something with you. Last year, I visited my sister, Barbara, at her new home in England. During the tour, I saw my brother-in-law, William Lamport’s, sports car collection. Now you know I have an appreciation for the sports car.”
David tilted his head to the side.
“Yes, I kinda picked up on that.”
“Well, I totally flipped. He allowed me to drive a few of them. And then guess what? For my birthday in February this year, he sent me the Audi as a gift. Aside from that though, I think people make assumptions about my wealth because of who my family is.”
“Assumptions?”
“Oh come on, admit it. You figured I’ve got a fat bank account somewhere.”
“Trust fund,” he admitted. “Are you saying you don’t?”
“My sisters set up a money market fund for me when I was in high school. They also paid for my college education. However, when I started to work, I asked them not to make the monthly deposit to the fund. I felt that it was high time I made my own way in the world. So yes, I do have some money thanks to my investment in the fund. And yes I’ve got lots of designer clothes and accessories and fine jewelry, but they’re all gifts from my sisters. I only dip into the fund if I absolutely need to. Like an occasional splurge on photography equipment. But I meet my monthly expenses from my salary, and that includes the high rental cost of this small apartment.”
After several minutes David asked, “How does the meal compare with the nutritional shake and fruit you’ve been living on?”
Ronnie giggled and nearly choked on a mouthful of cornbread.
“Doesn’t compare at all.”
“Didn’t think so. Anyway, what was the story with you not eating? I hope you weren’t dieting,” he said sternly.
“No,” she said, avoiding his gaze. “I had no appetite that’s all.”
He didn’t reply, but when she eventually looked over at him, he was watching her thoughtfully as he chewed his food.
He then said, “It seems to have returned with a vengeance.”
She smiled self-consciously. It was true. The flavors were so wonderful that her appetite had returned with a bang. She realized she had just consumed more food in fifteen minutes than she probably had that whole week.
A Case For Love (Royals Series Book 3) Page 20