Haze

"Yes."

The answer catches me so far off guard that I drop the bras in my hands back into the box. "You've been in love?"

"Once." She swallows so loudly that I'm sure everyone in the boutique can hear it. "It was a long time ago. I was young."

She's still young. "What was he like?"

Her brow furrows slightly as she picks up the bras and begins sorting them herself. I watch in silence as she moves her lips, as if she's rehearsing what she'll say.

"It's your birthday today, isn't it?" She gives me a weak smile. "I forgot to wish you a happy birthday this morning."

I've never felt pity for Cicely before. She presents herself as closed-off and cold. Maybe that's just a façade and beneath all of that is a heart that has been tortured and broken. Perhaps she was hurt so deeply that she can't allow herself to feel anything for anyone, not even a hint of kindness or compassion.

"Thank you." I smile back.

"You should get back out on the sales floor." She nods towards the stockroom's open door with her chin. "The merchandise can't sell itself."

***

"I believe this belongs to you." Gabriel holds my violin case in his hands. "I'm sorry I didn't return it earlier."

I shake my head slightly. "No, please. You have nothing to apologize for. How is your mother?"

He brushes against me to place the case on the front counter. "She'll be fine. It was exhaustion and stress. She'll take a day or two to recover in the hospital. Then we'll go from there."

I glance across the boutique to where Cicely is helping a customer. "I'm glad that she's fine. I was worried after you got that call last night."

He takes a step forward, his hand leaping to the dark blue tie around his neck. He adjusts it as he looks down at me. "If it were anyone else in dire need, I would have told them to go to hell."

I cast my eyes to the floor as I feel a blush race over my cheeks. He'd been a gentleman after the driver had told him about his mother. He slid me off his lap, exited the car almost immediately and then helped me out. After walking me to my building's front door, he'd kissed my forehead before sprinting back to the car. "Thank you for giving me a ride home."

"You can thank me by allowing me to buy you dinner tonight, for your birthday."

I look up and into his eyes. "Tonight? You want to go for dinner tonight?"

Exhaling roughly, he steps even closer. "I realize it's short notice. You have plans, don’t you?"

They're not official plans. When I'd walked through the door of the apartment last night, Nigel and Cassia were curled up under a blanket on the sofa. I felt an immediate sense of relief when I saw that they were both clothed. I'd tried to scurry past them to my bedroom but Cassia had stopped me to insist that I have dinner tonight with both her and Nigel. I'd agreed, mainly because I was so tired and still riding the high of kissing Gabriel just minutes before.

"I told my roommate and her boyfriend that I would have dinner with them," I say honestly.

There's a noticeable pause before he says anything and I realize he's waiting for me to continue. He expects that I'll say that I'll change my plans. I can, but Cassia has been so good to me since I moved to New York and the excitement in her smile when I said I'd love to have dinner with them was touching.

"Another time then." He steps back.

"I'd like that," I say. "Again, thank you for bringing my violin to me."

"Enjoy your birthday, Isla." He studies my face before his eyes trail down to my dress. "You're on the cusp of an incredible future. I feel honored that I saw you play last night."

The words mean much more than he'll ever know. "Thank you, Gabriel."

A ghost of a grin floats over his mouth. "You listened. I like that. I'll be in touch."

"I'll look forward to it." I take a deep, shaky breath as I watch him turn on his heel and walk out of the store.

This time I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Gabriel Foster was not only checking me out, he's as interested in me as I am in him. This may be the best birthday I've ever had.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Gabriel

It was mid-afternoon when the floral bouquet I'd ordered for Isla was delivered. I'd been insistent with the florist about the flowers she included. I don't have any knowledge about what Isla prefers but I know what I find beautiful. I wanted something fragrant and bright that will bring a smile to her gorgeous face.

It had.

She'd called my office shortly after three, asking to speak to me. I was in a meeting but Sophia had been instructed to interrupt me the moment Ms. Lane called.