“Bree said that a woman called looking for the agent who sold the DiNapoli house. Apparently she’s got a dog of a house, too.” He laughed.
New shiny listings was exactly what she had hoped would happen if she sold the DiNapoli place, not ugly ones. Still, Madeline didn’t care. That seemed so shallow, so unimportant compared to the hurt she’d caused here.
“Bree said she’d tried to get hold of you to let you know, but she was having a hard time reaching you.”
“Cell phone reception,” Madeline said listlessly.
The waiter brought the wine, poured it for them. Stephen swirled it around in his glass, then gingerly tasted it. Madeline watched him and thought about Luke, the way he popped the tops off beer bottles. She’d discovered she liked beer. She wished she’d had a chance to order one tonight.
Stephen nodded, and the waiter poured wine for the two of them.
“So,” Stephen said when the wine had been poured. “Now that it looks as if we have this place sold, when are you coming back to Orlando?”
Madeline thought about how best to answer him. Her hesitation seemed to make Stephen a little nervous because he said, “You’ve had a great little vacation, right? A great experience. But your life is in Orlando, isn’t it? Don’t you want to get back to it now that you know Bree is holding a listing for you?”
“I do,” Madeline said, and that was true. She had built her life there, brick by brick. She’d worked so hard to make it in real estate. She’d bought a cute condo in Winter Park, and she felt just on the verge of really making it, all on her own. But that all seemed so meaningless tonight. It wasn’t meaningless, she told herself. Maybe empty.
Madeline pushed away the wine and signaled the waiter.
“Is something wrong?” Stephen asked.
“Yes,” she said calmly. To the waiter she said, “I’d like a beer.”
“What kind?”
“Any kind. In a bottle, though. I like it in bottles.”
The waiter arched a brow. “I’ve got a microbrew you might like.”
“Great,” Madeline said, although she had no idea what a microbrew was. “Bring it.”
Stephen smiled. “You should have said something,” he said, gesturing to her wine. “We could have had beer.”
She thought of Libby out at Homecoming Ranch by herself, and how hard she’d worked to make the ranch ready for the Johnsons, who were, if everything went according to plan, having a bonfire tonight. Libby was right—Madeline had been self-centered and fearful.
“Trudi said you might need a little nudge,” he said with a chuckle. “I can tell you really like the people here.”
Trudi. Her rock, her best friend. Madeline had relied on her so much that Trudi was now calling the shots.
“Madeline, what is it? You seem distracted.”
She’d known from the first date Stephen wasn’t her type, and yet she had allowed him and Trudi to persuade her. She had agreed with Trudi that her reluctance with Stephen had to do with her insecurities and fears, but sitting at the Stakeout, Madeline didn’t know if that was true. She thought it was more likely that it was much simpler than that: Stephen was not the one.
“Madeline?” he asked, and sipped his wine.
“I’m a little distracted,” she admitted. “The thing is, I’m coming home just as soon as the reunion is over. But…”
Stephen’s smile faded. He put down his glass. “Here we go,” he muttered.
Madeline took a deep breath. “But I can’t come back to you, Stephen,” she said. “I don’t… I don’t feel that way about you.” There. She had said it as plainly as she could.
Stephen frowned thoughtfully, as if they were playing a little game. “I know that you’ve had a rough life and it makes it hard for you to trust—”
“No, wait,” she said, and held her hand up. “Listen, I love Trudi. She has been the one constant in my life. But she is not me, Stephen. She thinks she understands me, she thinks she is in my head. But she’s not. It’s not that I am fearful of what will happen. It’s that I don’t feel that way about you.”
He sank back into his chair, staring at her. He clenched his jaw and looked away, his hand curling around the wineglass so tightly she feared it would snap in two.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
He looked at her as he sat up and reached in his back pocket. “I guess I should thank you for being honest,” he said. “I hope you don’t mind that I don’t thank you, at least not right now. I just did you an enormous favor, Madeline.”
“Not really,” she said with an apologetic wince. “Actually, you caused a lot of trouble showing up like that.”
Stephen glared at her. “Great. You’re welcome for bringing you help and potential buyers.” He pulled out some bills and threw them down on the table. “I’m sure Jim and Chip will do whatever you need them to do with the ranch. I’m headed to Aspen first thing in the morning.”