Debbie Macomber: Happy Mother's Day: Ready for Romance / Ready for Marriage

The next time she looked up, the clock on the wall said seven forty-five. She’d heard the others leave, but that seemed like only minutes ago. She stood up and, placing her hand at the base of her spine, arched her stiff back and breathed in deeply.

Her eyes felt tired and her back sore as she carried her paperwork into the office. She stopped, surprised to find the room dark. She flicked on the lights and glanced around, certain Evan had left a note for her.

He hadn’t.

Picking up one of the roses, she held it to her nose and closed her eyes as she tried to battle down the weariness—and the disappointment.

“Jessica, what are you doing here?”

“Damian.” She could ask the same question of him.

“It’s nearly eight o’clock.”

“I know.” She rotated her overworked shoulders. “I guess time got away from me.”

“So I see. I had some reading I was catching up on, but I assumed I was here alone. There’s no reason for you to stay this late.”

She nodded toward Evan’s office. “What time did Evan leave?” she asked casually, not wanting him to know how abused she felt.

“A couple of hours ago. Why?”

“He said he needed this information right away.” She’d been in a frenzy attempting to finish the task as quickly as possible. She’d assumed he would wait until she’d brought him the data he seemed to need so desperately.

“I believe he had a dinner engagement,” Damian explained.

“I see,” she muttered. In other words, he’d cheerfully abandoned her.

“You sound angry,” Damian said.

“I am. I worked through my lunch hour getting this stuff for him.” And dinner hour, too, she thought, feeling even angrier. She realized too late that she probably also sounded jealous.

“I’m sorry, Jessica.”

Evan’s thoughtlessness wasn’t Damian’s fault and she said so, then asked bluntly, “Is there anything to eat around here?” She blinked back unexpected tears. Hunger always had a strange effect on her emotions, but it was embarrassing, and she tried not to let Damian see.

“You mean you haven’t eaten since lunch?”

“Not since breakfast, unless you count an apple, and if I don’t eat soon I’m going to cry and you really wouldn’t want to witness that.” The words rushed out and she felt a sniffle coming on. “Never mind,” she muttered, turning away from him. She wiped her nose with her forearm and returned to the library. Several ponderous law volumes were spread open across the tables. She closed them and began lugging them back to the shelves.

“I found a package of soda crackers,” Damian said, coming into the room.

“Thanks,” she said, ripping away the clear plastic wrapper and sniffling again. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to act like this.” She ate a cracker quickly and managed to hold back a sob. “Don’t look so concerned. I just needed to eat.”

“Let me take you to dinner.” Damian lifted a couple of the volumes and replaced them for her.

“That isn’t necessary.” A second cracker had made its way into her mouth and she was beginning to feel more like herself.

“We owe you that much,” Damian countered. “Besides, I’m half-starved myself.”

“The least he could’ve done was waited,” Jessica fumed.

Ignoring her comment Damian suggested a popular seafood restaurant nearby.

“He made it seem like it was a matter of life and death, and then he doesn’t bother to tell me he’s leaving,” she continued. “You’re right,” she said as Damian cupped her elbow and led her out the door. “Evan has changed.”

Damian didn’t respond to this comment either.

They walked the three blocks to the restaurant. It wasn’t too crowded, and they were given immediate seating at a wooden table near one of the windows. Even better, the waitress brought hot bread and chowder no more than a minute after it was ordered. Damian must be a regular here to get such service, Jessica thought, her good mood restored now that she’d eaten something warm and filling.

“This is excellent,” she said. “Thank you.” She sighed in contentment as she spooned up the last of her chowder.

Grinning, he finished his own soup, then reached for another piece of bread.

“What’s so funny?” she demanded. How like a man to keep something humorous to himself and then feel superior about it.

“I think I might just have averted a lawsuit. Can’t you hear it? ‘Woman Sues Boss over Lost Meals.’“

“I’d get a huge settlement.” The corners of her mouth twitched with a smile. Her eyes met Damian’s and soon their amusement had blossomed into full-blown grins.

He had very nice eyes, Jessica mused. They were a dark gray and revealed his keen intelligence, his sharp insight. She wanted to clear away any lingering misconception he had about her and Evan, but she couldn’t think of a way to do it without sounding as if she was jealous of whatever person Evan spent his personal time with.

Jessica wondered what Damian saw when he looked at her. Did he see the woman she’d become or the pesky kid next door who’d adamantly declared that his younger brother was her destiny?

The waitress arrived then with their main courses. Damian had ordered oysters and Jessica baked cod, which was delicious. By the time they’d finished, she felt completely restored.

“I said some things I shouldn’t have back at the office,” Jessica began, feeling self-conscious now but eager to explain. “You see—”

“You’d worked far longer than necessary and were starving to boot,” he interrupted. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I just wanted to be sure I hadn’t provoked you into firing me.”

“It’ll take more than a demand for food to do that,” he assured her, hardly disguising his amusement.

The June sky was dark and overcast and the temperature cooler as they came down the stairs and into the street. “It looks like rain,” Damian said. No sooner had he spoken than fat raindrops began to fall. Taking Jessica by the elbow, he sprinted across the street. Neither had thought to bring an umbrella.

“Here,” Damian said, running toward an alcove in front of a bookstore. The business had closed hours earlier, but the covered entrance was a good place to wait out the cloudburst. Jessica was breathless by the time they got there. A chill raced through her and she rubbed her arms vigorously.

Damian’s much larger hands replaced hers, then he stopped and peeled off his jacket, draping it over her shoulders.

“Damian, I’m fine,” she protested, fearing he’d catch a chill himself.

“You’re shivering.”

The warmth of his coat was more welcome than she cared to admit. No doubt about it, Damian was a gentleman to the core.

The downpour lasted a good ten minutes. Jessica was surprised at how quickly the time passed. When the storm dwindled to a drizzle and eventually stopped, Jessica discovered she was almost sorry. She was talking books with Damian and had discovered they shared an interest in murder mysteries. Damian was as well-read as she was, and they tossed titles and authors’ names back and forth without a pause.

“Did you drive to work this morning?” he asked.

She shook her head. She’d taken the subway.

“I’ll give you a lift home, then.”

“Really, Damian, that isn’t necessary. I don’t mind using public transit.”

“ I mind,” he said in a voice that brooked no argument. “It’s too late for you to be out on the streets alone.”

How sweet of him to worry about her, she thought. “But I already have enough to thank you for.”

“What do you mean?”

“I was just thinking—I seem to be continually in your debt. You’ve got a heart of gold.”