“That sounds like fun.”
“Not to Ethan,” Rachel speculated, studying his expression.
Ethan gave her a wry smile. “I’ve got to admit decorating doesn’t really interest me. I buy furniture that’s comfortable and functional and I arrange it in a way that’s most practical for me. Aislinn, now, likes that sort of thing. She’s a professional cake designer.”
Intrigued, Rachel asked Aislinn several questions about her business, and Aislinn responded in kind, so that they were soon talking like old friends. Rachel was even able to forget about Aislinn’s “gifts” for a little while, and enjoyed visiting with a woman with whom she had quite a few things in common. Ethan and Mark listened, neither adding much to the conversation.
She didn’t know how much help she had given Mark this evening. She’d been more of an intrigued spectator than a supporter, despite their brief under-the-table bonding.
They were almost finished with their desserts when Aislinn glanced at Rachel’s purse. “Your phone’s ringing again.”
Lifting her eyebrows, Rachel looked down at the purse. “But I turned off the ringer.”
Ethan shook his head in resignation. “If she says it’s ringing, you can bet it is.”
Pulling out the phone, Rachel checked the screen. “You’re right, it is. I don’t suppose you can tell me who’s calling?”
Hearing the hint of a challenge, Aislinn smiled faintly. “Not this time. I don’t think it’s an emergency, though.”
“Not to me, it isn’t.” Knowing Robbie would disagree, for that was who was trying to reach her, probably with another woeful tale of how understaffed he was at his restaurant that evening, Rachel slipped the phone back into her purse. “Funny how it always seems to be an emergency to whoever’s calling me.”
Aislinn searched her face, and Rachel had the uncomfortable feeling that the other woman, whether psychic or simply intuitive, saw entirely too much. But all she said was, “Some people get so busy taking care of everyone else that they leave no time to see to their own needs.”
Because that comment was all too applicable to her life, Rachel lifted her coffee cup to avoid having to respond.
Mark parked in the lot of Rachel’s apartment complex and wondered even as he turned off the engine if this would be the last time he would drive her here. He was rethinking yet again his decision to ask her to accompany him. Considering how nervous and uncomfortable he had been all evening, not to mention the inherent awkwardness of the entire situation, it would be a surprise if she ever agreed to go out with him again.
Which would be a shame, he thought regretfully. He really liked her, wanted to see her again—and not just for business. But he couldn’t blame her if she decided his life was in too much turmoil right now for her to get involved with him. Especially since she had confided that she had family problems of her own.
Without giving her a chance to decline, he opened his car door to walk her to her apartment. If this was to be their last date, he wanted to make it last a while longer.
“Would you like to come in for coffee?” she surprised him by asking when they reached the door.
He studied her expression to try to determine if she meant it or if she was only being polite. Because he wanted to accept, he decided it didn’t matter why she’d asked. “Yeah, that sounds good.”
He was curious how the decorator had done her own apartment. He liked what he saw—which boded well for his own place. He had seen pictures of her work, of course, but it was even better to see such a personal example. “Nice.”
“Thank you. I know it’s a little modern for your tastes, but it all seemed to work with the architecture here.”
Studying the clean lines of her furniture and the bold, sleek shapes of the accessories she had chosen, he nodded. “I agree.”
“Have a seat. I’ll put the coffee on.”
He settled on the couch, watching her leave the room. He really enjoyed watching her walk. Not too blatantly sexy, but just seductive enough to kick his libido up a notch.
Telling himself to rein it in, he looked around the room again. The basic theme was muted—midtoned woods, neutral fabrics, soft beige paint on the walls. Soothing and comfortable, with an occasional shock of bold, primary color to keep it from being too monotonous. A vivid red pillow. A cobalt-blue vase. A splash of bold green in a painting.
It was a lot easier to admire Rachel’s decor than to dwell on his own tumultuous emotions.
She returned carrying two mugs of coffee. “Sorry I took so long. I needed to check my messages.”
“It didn’t feel like that long. You get a lot of calls, don’t you?”
She made a wry face as she handed him his mug and settled on the couch beside him. “I’m afraid so. My family’s in the habit of thinking of me as their own personal ‘Dear Abby,’ on call 24-7.”
“So you’re the family caretaker?” He looked at her over the rim of his mug as he took a sip of the excellent coffee. “Most families seem to have someone who serves in that capacity, from what I’ve observed. Not from my own experience, of course.”
She shrugged. “I sort of fell into the role. My mother’s a dear woman, but my father spoiled her a bit. Ever since he died a couple of years ago, she has expected me to continue that pattern. I’m the oldest, you see. My sister, Dani, is three years younger, and my brother, Clay, just turned nineteen. Dani and Clay always seem to be in some scrape or another.”
“So you get to be the responsible one.”
She smiled. “I don’t really mind. Most of the time.”
“Between running your business and taking care of your family, it must be difficult for you to find time for yourself.”
She shrugged, which he supposed was an answer in itself. “I would think you’d have the same problem, considering your very demanding career.”
“Yes, well, I’m taking a few weeks off before starting the new practice. And I don’t have a family to worry about once I do start—er, at least I haven’t to this point.”
“You’re having trouble dealing with all of this, aren’t you?”
He set his mug on a coaster on her low coffee table. He was tired of talking about his newfound family. Besides, he didn’t like thinking of himself as someone else who needed to unload his problems on Rachel’s sympathetic shoulders. “I’ll get used to it. Look, I’m sorry tonight was so weird and awkward. I hope it didn’t scare you off from going out with me again—just the two of us next time.”
She smiled faintly. “I didn’t think tonight was so weird. I enjoyed meeting Ethan and Aislinn. They’re both very interesting people. As for you—I don’t scare that easily. If I did, I wouldn’t have gone out with you in the first place. I usually have a firm rule about not dating clients, especially when a job is ongoing—or in our case, just barely started. Had I been worried about consequences, I would have made an excuse not to have dinner with you last week.”
He found her straightforward manner very refreshing. If she was this candid in all her responses to people, it was no wonder so many came to her for advice and support.
He smiled. “I don’t usually mix business with pleasure, myself. Asking you out during our second business meeting was hardly my style. But I just couldn’t resist.”
Dimples flashed in both her cheeks with her smile. “I rather like being irresistible.”
He