“No, you didn’t wake me up, and yes, I’d love a fire. We can have our tea and coffee here. Also, the deli had fresh cranberry-orange scones. I don’t know if they taste like the ones you had in London, but they looked yummy.”
“Sounds good, my love. Do you need help in the kitchen?”
“No, I’ve got it, thanks.”
While Stella busied herself in the kitchen, he stacked logs and some kindling in the fireplace and lit the fire. His eyes fell on a little book and a framed photo on the side table.
“Wow, when did the book make it out of its banishment?” He raised his eyebrows and smiled at her.
“After London, I decided it was time to let the poor thing out. And the photo of us on the Montparnasse Tower has special meaning for me, too.”
He swallowed hard and scratched the stubble on his chin. If he didn’t shave soon, he’d give Stella a nasty case of beard-burn in places only he got close to. Just thinking about how she responded to his teasing tongue a few hours ago made him hard. It was almost embarrassing...but only almost.
He wondered how he should best phrase a question he’d been pondering awhile. Might as well grab the bull by the horns and come out with it! Ugh, not the best phrasing, man…
“Baby, do you still have the letter?” he asked and shifted his stance to hide the growing proof of his arousal.
“Yes, it’s upstairs. It’ll never see the light of day again.”
“I kept a copy of it and burned it after you left London,” he admitted. “Wait a minute...”
Taking two steps at a time, he went upstairs and came back with his book. He opened it and showed her the photo he kept in it. “When I bought your book, I also got one for myself. I kept this in mine.”
“That was taken in 2015, when we first met.” Her eyes got misty.
“Yes, it was. It’s why I put it in the book.”
She rubbed a hand over her eyes. “Now you wait here.”
He heard her rummaging in the bedroom closet, then she returned with her letter. “I want to burn mine, too. Like you did. I want it gone.” She tossed it in the fire, and together, they watched the flames engulf it before the remnants whirled around the fireplace one last time and settled in the grate.
David began to kiss the side of Stella’s neck, and she responded by making the sexy little sounds he loved to hear. He slid his hand up under the T-shirt and cupped her breast, teasing her hardening nipple.
“Doesn’t every fire ceremony need a show of gratitude?” His voice was hoarse.
“Then what are you waiting for?” she asked with a wicked smile—and pulled him to the sofa.
After a long shower and leisurely breakfast—the first one forgotten and grown cold—Stella filled the dishwasher and asked, “What do you want to do today?”
“Why don’t we call your parents and ask if they want to meet us for lunch? I’d like to see them again.”
She beamed at him. “I’m sure they’d love to. Where do you want to go?”
“I like any place you pick.”
“My phone’s still upstairs. I’ll call Mom from there,” she said and ran up the stairs.
He could hear her muffled voice but didn’t listen to the conversation. While he watched the last embers cooling off in the fireplace, his mind went back to the nightmare at City Tavern.
Adrienne had almost managed to ruin one of the best days of his life when she ambushed him. He vowed years ago he would never share a stage with her again. If she ever wormed her way into a performance with him, he’d rather be sued for breach of contract than sing one number with her. He made a mental note to ask Aaron if she had indeed tried to contact him and was grateful to know his friend wouldn’t fall for her tactics.
Then he thought about how Naomi followed Stella out of the restaurant. He knew the two friends always had each other’s backs.
When he contacted Naomi two weeks ago from London, she requested to FaceTime with him. Instead of a polite greeting, she said, “Okay, buddy, I’m glad it’s just you and me. And what I have to tell you I’d rather say face-to-face so there are no misunderstandings. You destroyed my best friend’s life last year. Without giving her feelings a second thought.” He’d never forget how she pointed a finger at him through the small screen.
He told her, “Naomi, you have every right to be mad at me. But you’re wrong if you think I didn’t give her a second thought. I explained to Stella why I panicked, and I’m sure she told you some, if not all of it. I’ve apologized to her and asked her to forgive me, and I hope you will, too.”
Naomi shook her head and said, “Oh, no, David. I don’t care about apologies. We live in a culture where one is expected to accept an apology without batting an eye and to say everything’s fine and dandy. But it isn’t always fine.
“Apologies are like marriage proposals. Not accepting them is almost impossible. To me, a believable explanation is more important. I have forgiven you, David, but I’m not forgetting what you did. You ended things with Stella in a horrible way, but you and I were also friends, and I don’t take friendships lightly. Being adults, we can put the bad memories behind us and move on. You don’t have to prove anything to me, but I sincerely hope you’ll never let Stella down again. Because I can guarantee you there will not be another chance if you do.”
They had
