A Night To Remember

“Oh. I didn’t know that.” Which, of course, only reminded her of how many more things she still didn’t know about Andrew.

“Now you do,” he said simply.

She smiled. “I’ll be right back with your tea.”

She moved away, then, remembering, stopped and turned back. She cleared her throat. “Er, about the cat...”

He winced and touched his right shoulder. “Yeah. I met the cat.”

“I’ll find it a home, I promise,” she said quickly. “I just haven’t had time yet, what with the new job and all.”

He only nodded. She couldn’t tell if he was annoyed with her for bringing another stray into his life. He didn’t seem to be, she decided in relief.

He really was a very sweet man, she thought with a smile as she hurried back to work. Was it any wonder that she was crazy about him?

Andrew lingered for quite a while after he’d eaten. Even after he’d finished the peach cobbler he’d ordered for dessert, he appeared to be in no hurry to leave, though he didn’t expect Nicky to hover around his table. He seemed content just to sit back, sip his coffee and watch her work.

It finally occurred to her what he was doing. “Andrew,” she said, glancing at her watch. “It’s only eight-thirty. I don’t get off work for another two and a half hours. You can’t sit here the entire time and wait for me.”

“I have nothing else to do this evening. And it’s not as if there’s an urgent need for my table,” he explained, motioning toward the empty tables around them.

The man was impossibly old-fashioned and protective. She should have felt smothered. Instead she was touched—a reaction she tried to hide when she spoke firmly to him. “Andrew, I really don’t need an escort. Please, go home. I’ll be fine.”

His forehead creased. “I don’t like the thought of you being out alone that late.”

“I’ll lock my car. And I’ll come straight home.”

It occurred to her that she had used the word “home” quite casually, considering she was still just a guest in his house. Andrew didn’t seem to notice. He was still frowning, but he sighed in resignation. “I suppose you’re right. You don’t need me hanging around while you work.”

“No. But thank you for being concerned.”

He nodded and stood. “Be careful,” he said a bit gruffly. “I’ll be waiting for you.”

If she’d ever heard sweeter words, she’d long since forgotten. Her smile felt tremulous as she watched him leave.

And then she turned to find that he’d left her a twenty dollar tip for his ten dollar meal. Shaking her head in exasperation, she pocketed the bill, resolved to return it to him later.

She hadn’t asked for his money. She didn’t want it, or need it. She only wanted his love.

And that, she suspected, her smile dimming, was much more difficult for him to give.

11

BY EARLY FRIDAY EVENING, Andrew had reached an unavoidable conclusion. He truly hated Nicole’s new job.

“She’s never here,” he complained to the orange cat that sat on his knee as he sulked in the den, much too aware of the emptiness of his home without Nicole in it. “She’s always busy.”

The cat meowed plaintively, as if in sympathy, and rubbed its head against Andrew’s palm.

Buffy had gone home, having been collected by Andrew’s mother sometime Wednesday morning. Lucy had called Andrew’s office to tell him she was home from New York and had reclaimed her dog. She’d thanked him profusely for letting her impose on him, and had then proceeded to rave about what good care “dear Nicky” had taken of the little mutt. She’d added a few hints about what a good mother Nicole would be and then had hung up before Andrew could remind her that he and Nicole hadn’t reached the point where such speculation was appropriate.

But no matter how casual, or temporary, he’d implied the relationship to be to his mother, Andrew missed Nicole intensely when he came home at night and she wasn’t there. He’d become quickly spoiled to having her company, to seeing her smile when he entered a room, to sharing meals with her.

Now she came home late, so tired she could hardly move. She always went willingly into his arms, but on a couple of occasions she’d looked so weary that he hadn’t had the heart to do anything more than tuck her into bed and hold her while she slept. She tried to wake when he did in the mornings, but he usually let her sleep. Even when she woke, they had only a short time together before he had to leave. She was gone again when he returned.

He hated it.

He wanted very much to ask her to quit. It was ridiculous for her to be working at a hard, low-paying job to scrape by when he had more than enough money to spare. But, after the way she’d reprimanded him for leaving too large a tip when he’d dined at her table Monday evening, he hadn’t quite had the courage to try to offer more. That stubborn pride of hers was proving to be a problem.