Arms of an Angel

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Arms of an Angel Page 2

by Linda Boulanger


  “You’re an ornery one, aren’t you?” Garrett shook his head though the corners of his mouth curved upward.

  “An honest mistake, I suppose. Though these shenanigans have caused my hors d'oeuvres to grow cold. You wouldn’t mind skipping right to the main course, would you, Mr. O’Bryan and perhaps offering me a first name?”

  What a delightful, to-the-point young lady, Garrett thought as he properly introduced himself. “Garrett O’Bryan.”

  “Claire Orion.” She took the hand he offered across the table. “My pleasure.”

  Her skin was pleasantly soft though her grip was firm. He was impressed. Obviously she was well bred; good blood and great training. His unexpected companion was a stunning package all the way around. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d been in the company of one so lovely; if he ever had. Indeed she was rare on many fronts.

  She laughed and Garrett realized he’d held her hand in his just a little longer than protocol deemed reasonable.

  “I was admiring your ring.” He tried to cover his embarrassment at being caught up in the sheer enjoyment of the feel of her hand in his as she chuckled and pulled her hand away. It really was a lovely ring. Thank goodness she was wearing it or he didn’t know what he’d have said about holding her hand so long.

  “It was my mother’s; a gift from her grandmother,” Claire offered as she gazed lovingly at the ring on the hand he’d just released. “Her wedding set is equally as stunning,” she told him, as she thrust her left hand across the table.

  Garrett looked at the rings and nodded in agreement. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

  “For?” Her eyes narrowed as she looked at him.

  “For the loss of your mother, and at such a young age.”

  She eyed him suspiciously and grew noticeably tense as she asked, “What makes you think my mother is dead?” She was immediately on guard.

  “Sorry. Didn’t mean to appear prying. Goes with the profession I suppose.”

  “And that profession might be…? Her chin was set in a defiant tilt that he didn’t understand.

  “Psychologist,” he told her after a long pause. Her sudden change in demeanor made him hesitant to tell her; fearful his lovely companion would bolt and he’d find himself finishing the meal alone. “Don’t worry,” he added as her lips tightened into a thin, straight line. “I don’t spend my off hours analyzing those around me, especially when the company is so pleasant.”

  “Yet you did.” She waved her ringed fingers at him.

  “Ah, not fair.” He pointed at her. “You as much as told me yourself!”

  “Really?!” Her voice was riddled with disbelief and distrust. “And I did that by …?”

  “The rings. Your mother might have given you the wedding set had she divorced, though not likely. Most women are peculiar about those things. They either use them to create a different ring or, more times than not, lock them away. Certainly she would be a rare woman who would accept her daughter wearing them and on her left hand at that. Your other ring as well… You said it was a gift to her from her grandmother. Why else would she have parted with them both?” He shrugged, hopeful his explanation would suffice. His eyes pleaded with her to accept it.

  At last she nodded and relaxed, though she couldn’t help commenting. “That would still be analysis and I’d certainly better not receive a bill.”

  He laughed; delighted she wasn’t going to hold his profession against him. Claire smiled and reminded herself she’d best watch her words and her actions.

  “So, your date’s daughter became ill?” she asked in an attempt to divert the conversation.

  Garrett laughed. “Her daughter? Not exactly. Her dog! Though she treats her better than most people treat their children.” He rolled his eyes and Claire raised her finely plucked brows in seeming disapproval. “Oh dear. Don’t tell me you’re one of them – the pets are equal or above people people! And I thought you so nearly perfect.” He grimaced and Claire laughed heartily.

  “Far from perfect and I don’t have a dog. I was thinking though…” she stopped, unsure of whether her words could cross boundaries of butting in. She barely knew this man, after all. Truly it was none of her business. She certainly didn’t want to find herself being analyzed again.

  Garrett waited for her to continue. “Thinking what?” he asked when she did not.

  She shook her head. “I don’t want to be rude.”

  “I promise I won’t take it that way. You’ve piqued my interest. Don’t leave me hanging!” Garrett pretended to pant and beg at the same time.

  Claire rolled her eyes. “Well, you don’t seem overly thrilled with your girlfriend and her doggie situation. In fact, you don’t seem that into her at all.” She shrugged.

  “Fair assessment. Although she was to be my dinner companion, she’s not my girlfriend. We’ve been out a few times. I wasn’t sure it was clicking. Tonight pretty much confirmed it for me.” He watched Claire as she put all the pieces together. “Does it all fit?”

  She nodded.

  After a moment of silence between them he asked, “May I inquire without you believing yourself under scrutiny, as to what it is that you do, Ms. Orion?” He was amazed by the almost instantaneous look of mischief that covered her face.

  “I do as I please, Mr. O’Bryan. Nothing more. Nothing less.” She shrugged at his lack of surprise and laughed. “You’re right. My parents are both dead and I inherited a vast fortune at a young age. Therefore, I’ve never had to do anything.”

  “And you’re okay with that? No dreams you’re pursuing? No cause you stamp as your own?” he questioned.

  “Now, now! That sounds very near analysis to me,” she teased with an edge of seriousness.

  “Mere conversation, my dear. You’re not exactly dressed for me to request that you lie down on my couch.” He regretted the words as quickly as they’d spewed from his mouth. The look on her face made him blush and he could tell she was toying with her come back.

  “Fair enough. Couches aren’t exactly my first choice for… reclination, relaxation, or recreation, let alone the reading of my mind.” He expelled the breath he’d held making her laugh. “Do I scare you… is it actually Mr. or should I be calling you Doctor?”

  “I believe I have seen enough in these few minutes to realize I should be on guard. I have told myself that a time or two since I sat down, yet I continue to fail to heed my own warnings. And I am addressed most often as Doctor though Mr. is perfectly fine with me. I do happen to be that as well. Although, to my patients and around the office Doctor seems to be the name I go by.”

  “Remind me to never ask you a simple question if I’m in a hurry,” she laughed.

  What sweet melodic laughter. It seemed to come so freely from her, yet there was something guarded about her as well. Was there a hint of sadness, of longing, behind the beautiful, mischievous sparkle of her blue-gray eyes?

  “Stop staring. You’re giving me the creeps. It’s as if you’re trying to look into my mind.” She didn’t want him in her head, especially tonight of all nights.

  He shook his head. “It’s just your eyes; they’re such an unusual shade of blue. I didn’t notice at first. It’s almost as if they…”

  “They change color…with my moods and feelings or most probably with my blood pressure,” she finished his sentence. “Another gift from my dead mother.”

  She was poking fun at him. At least she could find humor in an undoubtedly trying situation. He wanted to inquire about the particulars of their passing, though he knew she’d accuse him of practicing his profession. He chose a hopefully less sticky subject.

  “Ms. Orion, do you suppose we might dispense with the last name formalities? I believe as the champagne loosens my tongue the Orion/O’Bryan similarities may provoke me to an awkward slip. I’ll forget which of us is which.” They both laughed.

  “Garrett, correct?” He nodded. “I shall welcome the switch. Last names are so formally tedious at times; especi
ally when we forget which one belongs to us.” Free laughter flowed again.

  “Claire it is then.” He liked the feel of her name on his tongue. The thought made his brow crinkle. She intoxicated him much more than the champagne. He wondered why.

  The meal progressed quite pleasantly, capped with a shared, decadent, raspberry chocolate dessert.

  “Why are we celebrating?” he asked as she dipped her fork into the corner closest to her.

  “What would make you say we’re celebrating?” She was surprised by his suggestion.

  He shrugged, not wanting to ruffle her again in any way.

  Reading his thoughts, she smiled. “You’re suddenly wondering, as you did in the beginning, why a woman would get all dressed up and take herself out to a fancy restaurant to dine alone. It seems… dysfunctional? Emotionally unstable? Downright coo coo?”

  He shook his head then laughed.

  “Perhaps I was stood up as well…”

  “Nope. You called in for a table,” he reminded her.

  “Right.” She tried to think of something else, though the quantity of champagne they’d consumed made anything short of silly hard to formulate. “We need coffee. I do anyway. Or maybe just a cab. It appears we’re about the last ones in here.”

  Garrett looked around, surprised at the number of empty tables. He looked back at his bewitching dinner partner, remorseful at the thought of this evening coming to an end.

  “I have my car. Perhaps I might offer you a ride?” he asked, holding his breath in hope.

  “It’s a big city. How do you know I’m not far out of your way?”

  “Statistically people don’t venture far from their own zone for a meal.” He shrugged. “Am I wrong?”

  “Actually I live at the Grange. So your statistic stands, at least for me.”

  “So? The ride?” He could tell she was debating within herself. After all, she really didn’t know him. It was one thing to have dinner with a stranger in a full restaurant. A ride all alone changed the playing field completely. Though as he watched her, secretly analyzing because that’s just what he did, Garrett got the distinct feeling his was certainly not the first offer to be taken home she’d received nor accepted.

  He smiled as she nodded. “Good,” he said. “I wasn’t quite ready to part with such a mesmerizing companion.”

  Claire raised her brows; her eyes and lips teasingly questioning.

  “Oh dear!” he stammered, a bit embarrassed she’d think him so forward. “I didn’t mean to imply… I never expected… I didn’t think…”

  Claire began to giggle at his uneasy moment.

  “Well, I’m glad you’re finding humor in the moment.”

  “I apologize,” Claire sputtered through her laughter. “Oh we do clearly travel in different circles, my new-found friend.” She dabbed her mirth-filled eyes with a tissue she produced from her bag. “It’s been a long time since I’ve stumbled across anyone with your quality of innocence, Garrett. It’s…refreshing, actually.”

  He studied her again. “How old are you, Claire?”

  “Is there a qualifying age?” she joked.

  He shook his head. “Just curious. You seem to have lived an awful lot for one who I’d say has to be on the lower numeral side of her twenties. You’ve got a lot going on inside of you.”

  Their eyes locked. Claire was quiet. Had it not been for the champagne she might have bolted. She didn’t want him to see inside of her; at least she thought she didn’t.

  Her moment of seriousness was replaced by that mischievousness he’d glimpsed earlier. “Experience is a great teacher. You should know that, Mr. Analyst. And a ride home only will suffice, if the offer is still on the table.”

  “It is and glad I shall be for the continued gracing of your company,” he said and they both laughed. Claire was thinking he’d have made quite a gallant knight in shining armor.

  * * * * *

  Garrett didn’t see it, though Claire must have indicated that they were ready to leave. Anthony appeared and leaned toward her, whispering that there would be no check.

  “Your meal is on the house due to the mistake,” he told her quietly.

  “As expected,” she answered, discreetly handing him a couple of large bills. “There will be no need for change.”

  The waiter stared at her for a moment before realization set in and a look of gratitude and delight covered his features. “Thank you.” He half bowed as he went away. Claire merely glanced at Garrett who watched her with a look of awe. A class act with an unmistakable edge of sheer rawness all rolled up into one perfect bundle.

  “Shall we?” she asked when she was finished with whatever it was she was doing beneath the edge of the table.

  Garrett nodded. “You know,” he said as he scooted her chair back, “you really should let me take care of our dear Mr. Ballard. I didn’t realize you’d already made arrangements with the waiter. I’d have protested but you seem the type not to take interference lightly.”

  “You’re right,” she teased. “Never undermine or second guess me and all will go well between us,” she continued in a silly English accent, “and I shan’t hear anymore of your nonsense. Now come along and watch the pro in action.” She crooked her finger and winked as she walked away. Garrett followed, unsure if he was bemused or bewitched. He felt fairly certain about one thing, Mr. Ballard was about to find himself asking the same question.

  Secured within Garrett’s jet black Lexus, Claire and Garrett both burst into laughter.

  “Oh, that was priceless, my dear.” Garrett was able to speak only as his laughter subsided somewhat. “That poor man… Oh, Claire, you really had him certain his job was on the block. And such a pleasant look upon your angelic face as you delivered the blow.”

  “Oh, I’m truly evil in heels, aren’t I?” She looked apologetic for a full split second before breaking into more laughter. “Oh, bah. He was happy when I kissed his cheek and pulled my hand free of his.” She waved her hand back and forth.

  “Yes, once he realized you were putting him on.”

  Claire shrugged. “Evil!”

  Garrett shook his head. “Playful and, perhaps, a bit ornery. Evil? No!” He smiled at her as Claire studied his face. Uncertainty clouded her beautiful features. She looked away, staring out her window as they drove a couple of blocks in silence.

  “How long have you lived at the Grange?” he asked. “I heard they’re very hard units to get hold of.”

  Claire nodded that they were. “We’ve had the unit forever,” she told him then laughed. “Well, Dad had it. Acquired it many years ago, along with his first mistress.”

  Garrett’s mouth fell open. Claire nodded again and laughed. “You’re surprised that I know, am so nonchalant about it, that she was his first, or that we’d keep the unit?”

  “Yes… all of the above.”

  “Boy! For a psych you sure are naïve,” she poked. He started to protest then decided she was right.

  “The woman faded away, my mom liked the unit, and it became our place to stay when we came to town. He loved my mom, Garrett. The other women were mere diversions. My mom was the only true wife he had.”

  Garrett couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Had he known her better he’d have told her that was crap. He’d have asked her what about vows and respect? “Well, it’s a beautiful building, at least from the outside. I’ve never been in,” he said instead.

  “You want to come up? We can have that coffee we never ordered…” They were stopped in front of the building waiting for a clearing to turn into the circle drive where the doorman waited. Their eyes locked and a bucket of emotions passed between them.

  He reached over and touched her cheek. “I want to, but I won’t. Besides, I have a brunch date at my parent’s farm in Morgan’s Falls. It’s late and I’ll have to get up early to make it on time.”

  “Oh.” Claire nodded, the corners of her lips turning down. “A decent reason I suppose.” She chuckled. “I�
��ve never been turned down for parents.”

  They smiled at one another as he pulled in and the doorman approached. “Another time perhaps?”

  Claire gave a noncommittal half shrug. “Perhaps.” She was silent for a moment, signaling the doorman to wait. “Thank you for an enjoyable evening, Garrett. I’m pleased our paths crossed.” She started to reach for the door and he grasped her arm. She looked at his hand then at him.

  “I have this overwhelming feeling that I’ll never see you again once you get out.” His brows were drawn down, his face concerned.

  Claire was sure he could hear the loud thud of her heart. She felt the need to throw him off.

  “Let me have your phone.” She held out her hand and he produced it with out question. She stared at it for a moment then keyed in her number. “There.” She handed it back.

  “Thank you.” He smiled, rubbing the phone between his fingers as if it was her hand. “We’ll have that coffee… and sooner than you think.

  “Would we have had coffee, Dr. O’Bryan?” she asked, kissing his cheek and bolting from the car before he had time to recover.

  When she waved and smiled mischievously from the lobby doorway he shook his head and laughed. The thought of her would not easily be shaken, he was sure of that.

  “You’re home early, Ms. Orion,” Garrett heard the doorman saying to her as he pushed the button that rolled down the window. “And alone! You ruffled somebody’s feathers again, girl?”

  Claire started to respond but was cut off by Garrett’s voice calling her name. She turned toward him and he was struck momentarily silent by her beauty. Uncertain of his intent, she walked back to the car and looked through the open window.

  “Change your mind?” she teased. “No, I suppose Morgan’s Falls still has you bound. What then?”

  “Sunday brunch? 10:00ish? And we’ll have that coffee then. Scouts honor.” He held up two fingers.

  “Wouldn’t you know. Friday night and I get stuck with a parent whipped boy scout.” She laughed, letting him know she was still teasing. “Make it 10:30 and I’ll accept with expectation.”

 

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