Walking into the dining room, only to find it empty, I made my way to her bedroom and knocked on the door. “Bree?”
“In here,” she called out.
“I’m coming in,” I said, giving her fair warning.
“I wasn’t sure you would show up today,” she said, when I walked into the room.
She was in front of her window that overlooked the grounds. I wondered if she was making up her own images in her head or if she remembered the view. She had told me her room had been upstairs when she had lived in the house before. Maybe the view was the same.
“I am here and I promise you I’m in a much better mood. I’m really sorry about yesterday.”
She turned to face me. She was beautiful. I knew she was pretty, but sometimes, like in that moment, she was just absolutely stunning. I was lucky to call her my friend. I would be even luckier to call her more than friend. If I wasn’t careful, I was going to lose that chance.
“It’s fine,” she said, shrugging a shoulder.
Those were two very dangerous words. It was very clear it wasn’t fine. “I was thinking maybe we could go out today.”
“Go out where?” she asked.
“Can I say it’s a surprise?” I teased.
“You can say whatever you want,” she answered.
She was still mad. I understood. I would try and make up for it. “You look like you’re dressed and ready for the day. Should we go?”
“I’m at your mercy,” she replied.
I stepped towards her and reached out for her hand. She yanked it away. “I don’t need you to hold my hand.”
“Of course not,” I said. “Can I put my hand on your elbow?”
“Yes.”
I led her out of the house and into my car. I had done a little research and found there was a live concert in one of the nearby parks. I parked the car. The moment I opened the door, I could hear the sounds of a violin in the distance. I smiled as I looked over at Bree. She had her head tilted to the side. “Where are we?” she asked.
“It’s a surprise,” I said, happy to see I had truly surprised her.
I ran around to the passenger side, opening the back door and grabbing the blanket from the back seat before helping her out of the car.
“Are we at the park?” she asked.
“How did you know?”
“I’ve been here before. They do an art show here twice a year.”
“But how did you know we were at that park?” I questioned.
She looked thoughtful. “I guess because of the distance and I recognize the smell of the ocean. Most importantly, there is a bakery nearby. I think they put fans up to blow the smell this way to entice park goers into their business.”
I stopped and sniffed, detecting the faint scent of yeast bread. “I didn’t even notice that until you said it.”
“We used to come here a lot when I was younger. After we played or attended one of the events they hold here, we would go to the bakery and I could pick whatever I wanted.”
She had a pretty smile on her face as she talked about the memory. I wanted to kiss her so bad at that point, but I couldn’t. Strictly business, I reminded myself. No touching the client. “I think I might like a treat.”
She laughed. “I’m sure you would. What is going on here today?”
“There’s a live concert. It’s a local orchestra. A bunch of kids that are trying to raise money to go to some competition.”