Chapter Thirteen
“Hi, Mom,” Prescott said into the phone which he’d only picked up because it was his mother on the other end.
“I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”
“You know you’re not. Not even you get put through if I say no calls.”
“Good.”
“What’s up?”
“I’m not sure what to do about Holly.”
“Why do you have to do anything with Holly?” Sometimes talking to his mother was like figuring out Egyptian hieroglyphics. He was certain there was sense in there somewhere but it was work to pick through and find it.
“I mean about the wedding.”
“Anything to do with the wedding and it’s Holly you should be talking to.”
“But that’s what I’m getting at. I want to invite her. Would that be strange and awkward?”
He’d been working non-stop for enough hours that having a normal conversation with someone who was not an architect or designer was difficult. “Of course, she’s coming. She’s practically planned the damned thing.”
He heard his mother’s breath rush out in relief. “Oh, good. I was worried that maybe you hadn’t asked her.”
In point of fact, he hadn’t asked her. It hadn’t occurred to him that he needed to. Obviously, she was coming since as he’d just reminded his mom she’d practically planned the entire event, plus, he didn’t want to turn up to the wedding solo. It seemed perfectly clear to him that they were going together. What was the big deal?
But when he got off the phone, he realized that his mother, like most women, didn’t always come right out and say what she meant. More of those hieroglyphics. Perhaps, what she’d really meant was— No. The minute he started trying to figure out what she’d really meant he was hooped.
He picked up the phone he’d recently put down and made a call.
“Prescott Chance?” Holly’s voice was full of surprise. “Is it really you?”
“What is with everyone today?” He glanced out the window but it was daylight. Impossible to see the moon. “Is it a full moon or something?”
“Maybe a blue one, since you’re phoning me.”
“I phone you,” he said, feeling a little defensive since the only reason he had her number was that she’d programmed it in his phone when she’d snuck into his car.
“Prescott, I always phone you.”
“Well, this time I’m phoning you.”
“Oh. Is it about the site? Is there something you need?”
At the sound of her voice he realized he’d missed her. He hadn’t seen her for a few days. He’d been working non-stop so she didn’t know how far he’d got. “No. Nothing I need. I’ve done a preliminary design.”
“Already?” she squeaked with excitement.
“Yes. That’s how I work. When the site speaks to me, I usually get going right away.” He found it so hard to explain that usually he didn’t bother. He started feeling his way around the design and it began to appear almost like magic. There would be a great deal of hard work ahead, but when the design appeared, he worked in a white heat sketching, planning, calculating. He realized that he hadn’t called her and it was rude. “I’ve been at it night and day,” he added. “I get like this sometimes. I forget to eat. Barely sleep.”
“You are such a creative genius.” But the warmth was back in her tone, which he hadn’t realized was missing until he heard it again. He felt his own warmth kindle.
“You want to come over and see my drawings later?” he teased.
“You know I do.”
“Great. Come around seven. You can see the design and then we’ll go grab some dinner or something.”
There was a tiny pause, then she said, “Sure. Okay.”
“Did you have other plans?”
“No. It’s just that I guess I have to get used to the whims of a creative genius.”
“I didn’t mean…” He let out a breath. “I should have called.” What an ass. “I’m sorry.”
“No biggie. I’ll see you at your place at seven.”
She got home from work with barely time to shower and scramble into some fresh clothes. But she had to slow down when she raced into the apartment and found Luis there, obviously waiting for her.
“Hey, Luis. How was your day?”
“Good. I think.” He seemed nervous. He rubbed his hands on his pants. Then he said, “I went shopping.”
“Okay. Shopping is good.” She hoped he’d remembered to get milk.
He reached into the battered canvas bag he used instead of a briefcase. He pulled out a ring box. Handed it to her.
She gasped, with as much happiness and excitement as she hoped Maria would show. “Oh, my God. You did it.”
“What do you think?”
She flipped open the box, her heart racing a little, because what woman’s heart didn’t race when a gorgeous guy presented her with an engagement ring? Even if the ring wasn’t for her?
“It’s perfect,” she cried. A solitaire, as classy and traditional as Maria herself. “I think she’ll love it.”
“I’m picking her up in an hour.” He took the ring box back from her. “Can’t believe I’m doing this.”
“I can’t believe it either,” she said. “Good luck!”
Of course, Prescott, being a man, had not bothered to tell her where they were going for dinner. She had no idea if they were heading to some fancy place where she might run into a movie star or whether they were grabbing take-out sushi. She dressed in her best jeans, the new shoes and a silk top.
She drove over to his place feeling a quiver of excitement. He hadn’t lost interest in her. In fact, he’d been engrossed in his work. She’d heard in his voice the moment when he realized that he’d been rude. A man who could see his fault and apologize frankly for it was a man she felt she could trust. So, she gave him some slack.
And she gave him a whole lot more slack when she saw the design.
Naturally, architects all used computers. Naturally, Prescott liked to do his first pass with pencil. Or charcoal or something an artist might use, so what she saw first was hand-drawn sketches.
She fell in love immediately. “This is amazing,” she said.
“I had to be creative to keep the shell of the old building,” he explained. But he’d kept the envelope and made something beautiful.
“This is like really high-end recycling,” she said, feeling her enthusiasm bubble. “Old meets new.”
“I’m designing it so it’s as green and sustainable as modern materials will allow.”
“What’s this?” she asked, pulling out a more detailed black-and-white drawing. “Isn’t this the existing house?”
He glanced over. “Yes. I started with a detailed rendering of what was there. It helps me sometimes to draw the existing building. It gives me ideas.”
“But you’ve signed it.”
He looked slightly uncomfortable, a look that was pretty new on him. “I’m going to have it framed and give it to Luis’s grandmother. I’ll keep a photocopy for myself.
In that moment, as she stared at the drawing he’d made to give to the people who were leaving that home, leaving part of their hearts behind in it, she fell in love with him.
Falling in love was one of those expressions she’d heard her whole life. Songs trumpeted the notion, people talked of falling in love all the time. But she’d never actually imagined that a person could quite seriously tumble. One minute she was walking along on her emotional road, which might meander a bit but was a fairly flat, scenic route, and then she’d taken an unwitting step and the road disappeared. She’d gone sailing off a cliff, falling. Falling.
The trouble with falling in love was that she had no idea if the fall ended in any kind of safety net.
All she knew was that she was dizzy with the drop.
“Are you okay?”
He was looking at her with concern and she realized that something of her feelings must have shown on her face.
“Yes. Yes. It’s just that…” She looked at him, at this man that she’d so foolishly and accidentally fallen in love with. “Prescott, that’s the nicest gift they could have.”
“If they don’t like it they can toss it in a dark closet.”
“I guarantee that it will hang in a place of pride.”
“We can invite them to the opening when the new home’s finished.”
She giggled. “Can you imagine them mingling with Rupert’s friends?”
“I know who the classier couple will be. So,” he said as he pulled back, “what do you feel like eating?”
“I’m not fussy.”
“Would take-out be all right?”
Good thing she’d dressed for all possibilities. “Yes. Take-out would be fine.”
“Good. I want to sit on the site and watch the moon.”
And he’d asked her if it was full? She felt like asking him the same question.
It was actually kind of nice to sit on the grass and eat sushi. Luis’s grandparents had already moved and Prescott had a key, of course, but he didn’t want to see inside the house. He wanted to watch the moon and feel whatever spooky things he needed to feel. And she was content to sit and munch sushi and wonder where she was going to find a new place to live.
Prescott was a relaxing person to be with. He didn’t talk much, mostly seemed to be in his own world.
She pulled out her tablet and began making notes.
“You working?” he asked after a few minutes.
She glanced up. “No. I’m making notes for Marie and Luis’s wedding.”
He shook his head, his dark, dark hair moving in a way that made her want to put her hands in it and feel the silky strands. “More weddings?”
“He’s asking her tonight. I’m so excited.”
“What is it with girls and weddings?”
“I don’t know. I think secretly we all want to be a princess at least once. So, you get to wear a great gown and hopefully have a great guy stand beside you and tell the world he’s going to love you forever, to be there for you. It’s pretty seductive.”
“Speaking of weddings, I’m driving to Hidden Falls Friday. Thought I’d leave around three. Can you get away then?”
She stared at him. “Prescott, I haven’t been invited to your brother’s wedding.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re my plus one. Obviously.”
She felt like hitting him over the head with her computer tablet, might have done it if she didn’t think the trauma would permanently damage her electronics. In a dangerously calm voice, she said, “And why would I assume I was your plus one?”
“Because I, well, we…” His tone petered out. “I didn’t think you needed a formal invitation. You’ve pretty much planned the entire show. And you and I are, well, we’re—”
“What? What are we, Prescott?”
In frustration he roared, “We’re sleeping together.”
“Do you take every woman you sleep with to family weddings?”
“Never had one before.” Then he slumped back. “No. You are unique in every way. The first woman I’ve ever introduced to my family that anyone actually liked.”
“Well, that’s nice of them.”
“Come off it. Will you go to Evan and Caitlyn’s wedding with me?”
“As your plus one?”
“As my date?”
“Yes. And thank you for asking me.”
“So, would Friday at 3 be okay with you? I thought we’d take our time and drive up.”
“Fine. But I will have to work in the car. Is that a problem for you?”
Of course it was a problem. He liked to think while he drove, or listen to decent music, or simply talk to Holly. But if he said anything she’d take her own car and the thought of her driving that heap of junk, never mind taking business calls while she was driving it, seemed too harrowing to risk. “No. It’s not a problem.”
She sent him that twisted grin that was one of his favorite things about her. “Liar,” she said softly. “But thanks.”
So, they drove up together while she dealt with bankers, other minions in the Rupert empire, Rupert himself three times, and once, jarringly, his mother.
“Your mother says, ‘Hello,’” she informed him when she got off the phone and onto one of her electronic note takers.
“My mother called you to say hello to me?”
“No. She called me about the ring bearer’s pillow.”
“The ring bearer’s pillow?” He thought he could have gone his entire natural life without ever knowing such a thing existed.
“Yes. She thought we didn’t have one, but we do.”
“You think of everything.”
“Funny, that’s what she said. Only when she said the words they didn’t sound sarcastic.”
“It’s not you. It’s weddings, I guess. Who needs all that fuss and hoopla? For a dying institution that fails fifty percent of the time.”
“How can you be so cynical when your own parents are the poster couple for a happy marriage?”
“I just don’t see the point.”
“Is that part of your clutter-free philosophy? No messy relationships?”
“You make it sound like that’s a bad thing.”
“No. More kind of sad. Messy can also be interesting and connected.”
He had lots of time to watch what she meant by connected when he saw her once again in the thick of his family. If you wanted interesting, messy and connected, you had no further to look than the Chance family on the eve of their first wedding.
But this time he’d done a little advance planning. He’d called up his sister Iris and pretty much begged her to shack up with her boyfriend for the weekend so that he and Holly could stay at her house.
“And why would I do that for you? When there are so many other deserving relatives who would love to use my house for the weekend?”
He racked his brains for an answer. “Because I’m your favorite brother?”
She laughed. Didn’t deny it, but didn’t agree either.
“Because, the next time you come to San Francisco shopping you can use my place.” In fact, she always used his place, but he thought it would be too obviously pressuring her if he mentioned that.
In the end she agreed so easily that he half thought they’d already hatched that plan in the grand scheme of things. Still, he was happy to have somewhere to stay that didn’t involve a long drive since he’d already determined that he and Holly in the bunk room was not an option.
Pleased with his advance maneuvering, he drove straight to his sister’s. Holly was busy juggling phones—he’d realized on this memorable trip down that her mobile office included not one, but two cell phones. One of which was strictly so Rupert could have her on call at all times.
He hated the way she always took a quick, shaky breath before answering the Rupert phone, and he hated even more the barking tone he heard coming through loud and clear.
And he was designing a house for this moron? He must be crazy.
It wasn’t until he’d pulled to a stop in front of his sister’s Victorian that she finally put her toys away and glanced around. She blinked a few times and rolled her neck, then asked, “Where are we?”
“This, my dear guest, is where you and I will be staying for the weekend.”
She didn’t look delighted. “You mean, we’re not staying with the rest of the family?”
“Here’s the deal. If I am spending an entire weekend with you, there will be sex involved. And sex and the bunk beds in my old room just aren’t going together in my mind.”
She sent him that mischievous glance that told him something outrageous was about to slip out of her mouth. “Too bad, I had some ideas.”
In spite of himself he started to get interested. “Ideas about sex? In the bunk beds?”
“Mmm-hmm. I think bunk beds offer certain possibilities to people of reasonable flexibility.”
“How’s your flexibility?” he had to ask.
She grinned at him. “A lot better than reasonable.”
He kissed her, because how could he not? Then whispered a few suggestions in her ear about what he could do with a decent bed and privacy.
Her lips were wet when they drew apart and her eyes had gone misty. “Okay,” she said softly. “Your ideas might work too.”
With a chuckle, he unfolded himself from the car and began dragging out bags. She packed pretty seriously for a weekend, he thought, until she stopped him. “Not that big red bag. Or the paper shopping bags. Those are all for the wedding.”
“What are you now, UPS?”
“I loved helping plan this wedding. And in San Francisco, I had access to so much great stuff. Caitlyn has zero shopping options in Miller’s Pond, and your mom has even fewer in Hidden Falls.”
“They both have access to the Internet and my mom only has to drive an hour or two to get to some pretty substantial shopping.”
“I wanted to do it,” she said. “It was fun.”
How anyone could have fun unearthing a pillow for a ring bearer was beyond him. But he didn’t comment, merely avoided the wedding-related bags and hefted the others.