Savor the Moment
Page 52
“Plans change.”
“Yeah, plans change. But my point is that Laurel’s always had her own direction, always followed her instincts rather than the trend. If things had been different, she’d be living in some stylishly bohemian Paris flat, running her own upscale bakery.”
“I don’t think so.” Jack shook his head. “I think when it comes down to the sticking point, those four are too solidly linked. New York maybe, but not Europe. The pull from the other three’s just too strong.”
“I said almost the same to her not long ago, only half-kidding.”
Jack ate one of the almonds from the dish Angie set on the bar. “I thought I got it before, before Emma and I changed direction. But living there, being in the mix the way I am now? It’s the next thing to a psychic connection there. A little spooky sometimes, to tell the truth.” He lifted his beer, a half toast. “That’s love, man, wide and deep as it gets.”
“Always has been.” Del considered for a moment. “I still say this isn’t something Laurel’s got on the brain, but if there’s anything there, the other three would know. You could feel out Emma about it.”
“No way. Not even for you. If I start that, it’ll lead to a whole discussion on what I think about you guys, how I might feel you out about it.” Jack popped another almond. “The end is madness.”
“You’ve got a point. Besides, that would only launch the idea balloon on it anyway. We’re fine. We’ll leave it alone. We’re on a smooth road for the moment, so why test the detours?”
Jack grinned. “That’s what I thought about Emma and me.”
“You’ve got to stop that.”
“I have to admit, it’s fun poking at the vulnerable spots. But speaking of Emma and me, you’ll do the best man thing, right?”
“Sure. Wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“Good. That’s about the only thing I have to do. Mostly, I just have to smile and say that’s great when she tells me what they’ve come up with for the wedding. Parker told me my deal’s the honeymoon, then gave me the contact for a travel agent she says is the best—and an entire packet on Bora-Bora because she says it’s somewhere Emma’s always wanted to go, plus it’s exotic and romantic. So I guess that’s where we’re going.”
Intrigued, Del studied Jack over his sparkling water. “Do you want to go to Bora-Bora?”
“You know, I do. As soon as I looked at the packet, I thought, hey, this is it.Your sister’s a little scary, Del.”
“She can be.”
“Carter got a packet on Tuscany, which included those ‘Learn Italian’ discs for both of them.”
He had to laugh. “I guess that’s taken care of.”
“Apparently. Hey, I’ve got to run. I got an e-mail before I left the office. Emma’s in a cooking mood.”
“I’ll get your beer.”
“Thanks.”
“Jack? The getting married suit? It looks good on you.”
“Feels good. Who knew? See you later.”
It wasn’t just the getting married that looked good on him, Del mused. It was the whole life with Emma, the foundation he could so easily see—now—Jack building on. Home and family, dinner together at the end of a long day. They’d need more room eventually in the pretty little guest house. Knowing Jack, he’d come up with something.
The estate was turning into a kind of commune. When he considered it, Del decided it was something that would have pleased and amused his parents.
“Your table’s ready, Mr. Brown.” The maitre d’ stepped up to the bar. “Would you like to be seated, or would you prefer to wait for your party here at the bar?”
He glanced at his watch. Laurel was running late—or Mac who was dropping her off on the way to a shoot was running late.
“She should be here any minute. I’ll take the table.”
He decided to go ahead and order a bottle of wine, and had barely made his selection when he heard his name.
“Hello, stranger!”
“Deborah.” He rose to greet her, and exchanged a light, friendly kiss with the woman he’d known for years. “You look great. How are you?”
“Fabulous.” She tossed back her lush mane of red hair. “Just back from two months in Spain—with the last two weeks in Barcelona.”
“Business or pleasure?”
“Both, a lot of both. I’m meeting my mother and sister for a little catch-up girl time. I’m early, as usual; they’re late, as usual.”
“Sit down, wait with me.”
“I’d love to, Delaney.” She gave him a sparkling smile as he pulled out a chair. “I haven’t seen you since ... when? I think it’s since the Spring Ball. What have you been up to?”
“Nothing as interesting as Barcelona.” As the wine steward offered the bottle for approval, Del glanced at the label, nodded.
“Well, catch me up. Who’s doing what, and who are they doing it with? What’s the latest hot gossip?”
Del smiled as he sampled the taste the steward poured in his glass. “I think you’ll need your mother and sister for that. It’s perfect,” he told the steward, and gestured toward the glass in front of Deborah.
“You’re too discreet. Always were.” She sipped the wine. “And you still have excellent taste in wines. Come on, spill something. I heard a rumor that Jack Cooke’s engaged. Confirm or deny.”
“That I can confirm. He and Emmaline Grant set the date for next spring.”
“Emma? Really? Well, here’s to them.” She lifted her glass.
“Though scores of single females may mourn. Obviously I’ve been out of the loop. I didn’t even know they were an item.”
“I guess it moved pretty quickly once it started.”
“I’m happy for them. Is it odd for you? I mean, Emma’s the next thing to a sister, and Jack’s your closest friend.”
“I had a moment or two,” he admitted. “But they’re good together. Tell me about Barcelona. I’ve never been there.”
“You need to go. The beaches, the food, the wine. The romance.” She smiled at him. “It’s in the air.”
“Yeah, plans change. But my point is that Laurel’s always had her own direction, always followed her instincts rather than the trend. If things had been different, she’d be living in some stylishly bohemian Paris flat, running her own upscale bakery.”
“I don’t think so.” Jack shook his head. “I think when it comes down to the sticking point, those four are too solidly linked. New York maybe, but not Europe. The pull from the other three’s just too strong.”
“I said almost the same to her not long ago, only half-kidding.”
Jack ate one of the almonds from the dish Angie set on the bar. “I thought I got it before, before Emma and I changed direction. But living there, being in the mix the way I am now? It’s the next thing to a psychic connection there. A little spooky sometimes, to tell the truth.” He lifted his beer, a half toast. “That’s love, man, wide and deep as it gets.”
“Always has been.” Del considered for a moment. “I still say this isn’t something Laurel’s got on the brain, but if there’s anything there, the other three would know. You could feel out Emma about it.”
“No way. Not even for you. If I start that, it’ll lead to a whole discussion on what I think about you guys, how I might feel you out about it.” Jack popped another almond. “The end is madness.”
“You’ve got a point. Besides, that would only launch the idea balloon on it anyway. We’re fine. We’ll leave it alone. We’re on a smooth road for the moment, so why test the detours?”
Jack grinned. “That’s what I thought about Emma and me.”
“You’ve got to stop that.”
“I have to admit, it’s fun poking at the vulnerable spots. But speaking of Emma and me, you’ll do the best man thing, right?”
“Sure. Wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“Good. That’s about the only thing I have to do. Mostly, I just have to smile and say that’s great when she tells me what they’ve come up with for the wedding. Parker told me my deal’s the honeymoon, then gave me the contact for a travel agent she says is the best—and an entire packet on Bora-Bora because she says it’s somewhere Emma’s always wanted to go, plus it’s exotic and romantic. So I guess that’s where we’re going.”
Intrigued, Del studied Jack over his sparkling water. “Do you want to go to Bora-Bora?”
“You know, I do. As soon as I looked at the packet, I thought, hey, this is it.Your sister’s a little scary, Del.”
“She can be.”
“Carter got a packet on Tuscany, which included those ‘Learn Italian’ discs for both of them.”
He had to laugh. “I guess that’s taken care of.”
“Apparently. Hey, I’ve got to run. I got an e-mail before I left the office. Emma’s in a cooking mood.”
“I’ll get your beer.”
“Thanks.”
“Jack? The getting married suit? It looks good on you.”
“Feels good. Who knew? See you later.”
It wasn’t just the getting married that looked good on him, Del mused. It was the whole life with Emma, the foundation he could so easily see—now—Jack building on. Home and family, dinner together at the end of a long day. They’d need more room eventually in the pretty little guest house. Knowing Jack, he’d come up with something.
The estate was turning into a kind of commune. When he considered it, Del decided it was something that would have pleased and amused his parents.
“Your table’s ready, Mr. Brown.” The maitre d’ stepped up to the bar. “Would you like to be seated, or would you prefer to wait for your party here at the bar?”
He glanced at his watch. Laurel was running late—or Mac who was dropping her off on the way to a shoot was running late.
“She should be here any minute. I’ll take the table.”
He decided to go ahead and order a bottle of wine, and had barely made his selection when he heard his name.
“Hello, stranger!”
“Deborah.” He rose to greet her, and exchanged a light, friendly kiss with the woman he’d known for years. “You look great. How are you?”
“Fabulous.” She tossed back her lush mane of red hair. “Just back from two months in Spain—with the last two weeks in Barcelona.”
“Business or pleasure?”
“Both, a lot of both. I’m meeting my mother and sister for a little catch-up girl time. I’m early, as usual; they’re late, as usual.”
“Sit down, wait with me.”
“I’d love to, Delaney.” She gave him a sparkling smile as he pulled out a chair. “I haven’t seen you since ... when? I think it’s since the Spring Ball. What have you been up to?”
“Nothing as interesting as Barcelona.” As the wine steward offered the bottle for approval, Del glanced at the label, nodded.
“Well, catch me up. Who’s doing what, and who are they doing it with? What’s the latest hot gossip?”
Del smiled as he sampled the taste the steward poured in his glass. “I think you’ll need your mother and sister for that. It’s perfect,” he told the steward, and gestured toward the glass in front of Deborah.
“You’re too discreet. Always were.” She sipped the wine. “And you still have excellent taste in wines. Come on, spill something. I heard a rumor that Jack Cooke’s engaged. Confirm or deny.”
“That I can confirm. He and Emmaline Grant set the date for next spring.”
“Emma? Really? Well, here’s to them.” She lifted her glass.
“Though scores of single females may mourn. Obviously I’ve been out of the loop. I didn’t even know they were an item.”
“I guess it moved pretty quickly once it started.”
“I’m happy for them. Is it odd for you? I mean, Emma’s the next thing to a sister, and Jack’s your closest friend.”
“I had a moment or two,” he admitted. “But they’re good together. Tell me about Barcelona. I’ve never been there.”
“You need to go. The beaches, the food, the wine. The romance.” She smiled at him. “It’s in the air.”
