him. He wanted to erase the shadows under her eyes—shadows
that spoke of something deeper than fatigue. He wanted to see her
smile like she had at dinner the night before.
At him .
***
The sight of twinkling lights on the horizon heralded their approach
into Portland. Marc drove into the West Hills to the home of his
editor, Nathan Brenner. He parked a few houses down from the
residence and assisted Julia from the truck, enjoying the way she
rested a hand on his arm as they made their way up the street.
The house was lit up with the glow of lamplight and candles when they
stepped inside. Already there were several couples in the large
living room. An ivory leather sectional couch took center stage,
enhanced by several glass-topped side tables encouraging the
formation of guests into small, intimate groups.
A copy of his book Facets was set on a table near the door,
surrounded by an artful display of colorful minerals and small rocks.
A tiny placard nestled in the display gave credit to a jewelry store
for providing the ‘geological samples’.
Mrs. Brenner, elegantly attired, bussed the air near Marc’s cheek
and gave a kind, if speculative, stare at Julia when he introduced
her. After a few hostess-like phrases, she snagged some other couples
and made introductions all around, thereby discharging her duties
before rushing off to check the food.
Marc was right when he said he wouldn’t know most of the people
present. Those he did know seemed overly interested at his arrival
with a woman, and insisted on making Julia’s acquaintance. She
didn’t seem to notice his discomfort at everyone’s conspicuous
assumption of a budding romance. Julia was obviously in her element.
Her warm and gracious manner kept conversation flowing smoothly while
they mingled throughout the ever-growing crowd.
He was pleased that she stayed by his side. Social niceties gave him
leave to maintain light physical contact, and he took great pleasure
in her nearness. Some time later, Brian and Sara arrived, and after
they greeted each other, Sara and Julia disappeared. Marc experienced
a sharp stab of disappointment, reluctant to carry on conversation
with the other guests without her.
Sara watched the way Marc’s expression changed when Julia left his
side. She followed her into a sitting room, set aside for ladies to
repair their appearances.
“Sara, you look fabulous in that dress,” Julia said.
She noted Julia’s high flush. “You’re the one who picked it
out. And anyway, if anyone looks fabulous, it’s you. I noticed Marc
couldn’t take his eyes off you.”
The instant the words were out of Sara’s mouth, she regretted them.
She’d promised herself not to meddle, but everything within her
cried out to bring these two people together. They made a great
couple and their personalities were perfectly matched. But if she
continued putting her foot in her mouth, she risked spoiling any
possibilities between them.
Sara sighed. “Sorry. Just a bit of wishful thinking.”
Julia peered into a mirror while she freshened her lipstick. “Don’t
worry about it.” Dropping the lipstick tube back into her bag, she
snapped it shut and changed the subject.
Julia was relieved when Sara made her way back to her husband. The
contrition in her eyes for her comment about Marc softened some of
her frustration. But it still rankled. Perhaps it wouldn’t have been such a big deal if she weren’t entertaining
nonsensical notions about Marc herself. I’m just as
guilty of wishful thinking.
The warmth in his dark eyes tonight melted away her intention of
keeping him at arm’s length. Julia found it nearly impossible to
stay her intended course when he acted so solicitous and kind,
attending to her every need. His breath against her cheek when he
spoke low into her ear, the gentleness of his touch while they wended
their way through the room, had proved too much for her to resist.
She could hardly wait to get back to his
that spoke of something deeper than fatigue. He wanted to see her
smile like she had at dinner the night before.
At him .
***
The sight of twinkling lights on the horizon heralded their approach
into Portland. Marc drove into the West Hills to the home of his
editor, Nathan Brenner. He parked a few houses down from the
residence and assisted Julia from the truck, enjoying the way she
rested a hand on his arm as they made their way up the street.
The house was lit up with the glow of lamplight and candles when they
stepped inside. Already there were several couples in the large
living room. An ivory leather sectional couch took center stage,
enhanced by several glass-topped side tables encouraging the
formation of guests into small, intimate groups.
A copy of his book Facets was set on a table near the door,
surrounded by an artful display of colorful minerals and small rocks.
A tiny placard nestled in the display gave credit to a jewelry store
for providing the ‘geological samples’.
Mrs. Brenner, elegantly attired, bussed the air near Marc’s cheek
and gave a kind, if speculative, stare at Julia when he introduced
her. After a few hostess-like phrases, she snagged some other couples
and made introductions all around, thereby discharging her duties
before rushing off to check the food.
Marc was right when he said he wouldn’t know most of the people
present. Those he did know seemed overly interested at his arrival
with a woman, and insisted on making Julia’s acquaintance. She
didn’t seem to notice his discomfort at everyone’s conspicuous
assumption of a budding romance. Julia was obviously in her element.
Her warm and gracious manner kept conversation flowing smoothly while
they mingled throughout the ever-growing crowd.
He was pleased that she stayed by his side. Social niceties gave him
leave to maintain light physical contact, and he took great pleasure
in her nearness. Some time later, Brian and Sara arrived, and after
they greeted each other, Sara and Julia disappeared. Marc experienced
a sharp stab of disappointment, reluctant to carry on conversation
with the other guests without her.
Sara watched the way Marc’s expression changed when Julia left his
side. She followed her into a sitting room, set aside for ladies to
repair their appearances.
“Sara, you look fabulous in that dress,” Julia said.
She noted Julia’s high flush. “You’re the one who picked it
out. And anyway, if anyone looks fabulous, it’s you. I noticed Marc
couldn’t take his eyes off you.”
The instant the words were out of Sara’s mouth, she regretted them.
She’d promised herself not to meddle, but everything within her
cried out to bring these two people together. They made a great
couple and their personalities were perfectly matched. But if she
continued putting her foot in her mouth, she risked spoiling any
possibilities between them.
Sara sighed. “Sorry. Just a bit of wishful thinking.”
Julia peered into a mirror while she freshened her lipstick. “Don’t
worry about it.” Dropping the lipstick tube back into her bag, she
snapped it shut and changed the subject.
Julia was relieved when Sara made her way back to her husband. The
contrition in her eyes for her comment about Marc softened some of
her frustration. But it still rankled. Perhaps it wouldn’t have been such a big deal if she weren’t entertaining
nonsensical notions about Marc herself. I’m just as
guilty of wishful thinking.
The warmth in his dark eyes tonight melted away her intention of
keeping him at arm’s length. Julia found it nearly impossible to
stay her intended course when he acted so solicitous and kind,
attending to her every need. His breath against her cheek when he
spoke low into her ear, the gentleness of his touch while they wended
their way through the room, had proved too much for her to resist.
She could hardly wait to get back to his
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