“You look amazing,” Tiffany said.
“Gracias. Tú también,” Milán replied.
“You should have seen how long it took me to pull this together.”
“It’s the end result that matters, amiga.”
Before she knew it, Tiffany was the center of attention. Several people joined their group, and conversation about marital bliss took a backseat to discussion on the available bachelors in the room, courtesy of Norma Jean.
“We’re here to have a good time, remember?” Tiffany pointed out. “Don’t worry about me. I’m too busy for a serious relationship. My shop is the love of my life right now.”
“Honey, you work too much. What you need is the love of a good man to keep you warm at night, not a laptop.”
They all turned to see Norma Jean standing behind them.
A red tint spread across Tiffany’s face. She tried to hide her embarrassment. “I’m fine...really.”
Adrian wrapped an arm around his mother. “You heard her, Mom. Time for us to butt out.”
“Mmm-hmm. That’s what you and your buddies said over the last few years, and look what happened. I found perfect women for you—and the rest is history.” Norma Jean beamed with pride. “Another love connection for the Love Broker.”
Everyone laughed at Norma Jean’s use of their nickname for her.
“If I remember correctly, I couldn’t stand your son when I met him,” Milán said sweetly.
“And then I turned on the charm, and you were a goner,” Adrian boasted.
The whole group let out a collective groan.
Norma Jean turned to Tiffany. “What you need, dear, are my expert matchmaking skills. Don’t worry, lovebird, I’ll find your mate soon enough. You need to make time for some—”
“Jeannie,” Milán said quickly. “Isn’t it time for Adrian and my first dance?”
“You heard my blushing bride, Mom. Tiempo de bailar! Time to dance.”
Norma Jean gasped. “Come on, you two,” she said, ushering the couple away.
Tiffany mouthed a “thank you” to her best friend before she left to dance.
* * *
Tiffany was in a mood by the time she arrived home. She glanced across the hall to Milán’s old apartment. She missed her friend. Now more than ever, Tiffany wished she were there to talk things over with while eating a pint of their favorite ice cream and watching a good movie. With a loud sigh, she locked the door behind her and headed straight for the bedroom.
After a shower, she slipped on a pair of pajama bottoms and a T-shirt before going to the kitchen to retrieve a spoon and a cup of ice cream. Returning, Tiffany plopped down on the bed. While she ate, she contemplated Norma Jean’s words. Was she lonely? Was her job destined to be her only meaningful relationship?
Her store did take up a lot of time, but she loved it, and wanted her business to thrive. Still, she missed having a special man in her life to hang out with, share her thoughts with. Having someone share your bed wouldn’t be bad, either.
Her phone vibrated. She set her cup on the nightstand and picked it up.
She was surprised to see a missed call from Ivan. She dialed voice mail, and Ivan’s warm, deep voice filled her ear.
“Hello, Tiffany. This is Ivan Mangum. I have your quote ready. Call me, and we’ll schedule a time to meet.”
She listened to him recite his telephone number. Twice. She checked the time. It was almost eleven. She pondered if it was too late to call. Being ex-army, wasn’t he used to late hours?
Tiffany dialed his number and waited. She prepared to leave a message, but was startled when Ivan picked on the second ring.
“Oh...hi. It’s Tiffany. I hope I’m not disturbing you. I didn’t know if it was too late to call.”
“Of course not.” There was surprise in his voice. “Are you available on Monday to go over my proposal?”
“Uh, sure.”
“Great, how about three o’clock?”
“That’s fine.”
“Good. See you Monday.”
She nodded as though he could see her.
“Good night, Tiffany. Have a great weekend.”
Unable to stop herself, she grinned at his use of her name.
“Good night, Ivan, and you do the same.”
Tiffany returned her phone to the nightstand and replayed the conversation in her head. His voice was so sexy. It resonated in her ear when he said her name. A tingle shot down her spine. Unable to help herself, Tiffany thought about seeing him again.
Being attracted to him would probably turn out to be a colossal waste of time, but for right now, in this moment, she allowed herself to revel in the excitement of how he made her feel. After turning out the light and pulling up the covers, she closed her eyes, and Ivan instantly appeared—just as sexy and compelling as he was in person. Her stomach quivered in reaction as though he were standing right there.
For tonight, the image of Ivan Mangum would have to do.
Chapter 4
The weekend flew by for Tiffany. On Monday, at three o’clock on the dot, Ivan walked through the door.
“Welcome back,” she said.
“Thanks. I spotted a coffee shop down the street. I thought we could go there and talk.”
“That’s fine. I’ll get my purse.”
Tiffany went into the back room and retrieved her purse from a cabinet. She used a small mirror to freshen her makeup.
It’s not a date, she scolded herself while applying lipstick. Tiffany returned to where Ivan was waiting. He held the door for her as they stepped outside into the afternoon sun.
“So how long have you been in the area?” he asked conversationally.
“A few years. I’m originally from Baltimore. I’m an only child, and thought that it was time to change scenery. I came here for a job and never left.”
“Are you close with your parents?”
“For the most part. I miss having them nearby, but they visit when they can. Separately, of course. Together would be a definite nightmare, since they’re divorced.
“And since my business started, I haven’t really had the chance to get there as often as I’d like.”
“What do your parents do?”
“My father is a principal at a high school, and my mother works in human resources at a global investment firm downtown.” She turned to him. “What about you?”
“I was born here. My father was a colonel in the army, and my mother was a professor in the classics department at a local university. We traveled a lot, either for my mother’s book research or when my father got new orders. In retrospect, my father played a large part in my decision to join the army and go to Officer Candidate School after college.”
“That must’ve been fun.”
“Loads.”