Larkspur Dreams

Twelve


Amidst the shock of it all, Everett lost the motor control in his fingers. The drinks fell out of his hands and crashed to the floor, sending wetness and shards of glass across the carpet.

Suddenly, men in crisp, white outfits came to his aid. They seemed to emerge right out of the mirrored walls and within seconds had whisked away all debris with a broom, dustpan, and mop.

Zeta took in a deep breath. “Well, I guess my announcement comes as a bit of a surprise to some people.” She laughed, only this time she sounded more ladylike. “My vision has always been to open a day spa, but I always got sidetracked with making money instead of doing what I was born to do. I’ve saved a fortune, and now it’s time to take a chance. To live!” Her voice had escalated to the point of drawing a small crowd.

Everett shook Zeta’s hand and wished her the best. He’d no idea she hated her job, but it must have explained her unpleasant attitude.

“And so now I must take my leave.” Zeta’s hands went up in a flourish as she made a theatrical exit out the doors like an aging actress on her last curtain call.

Everett felt grateful he had nothing else in his hands to drop. He stood in stunned silence along with Lark and a few of his coworkers. They mumbled words of surprise and relief. He tapped his face.

Lark took told of Everett’s hands. “Are you okay? You look a little pale.”

He looked at Lark but wondered if he was really focusing. Who was this woman? The night suddenly had a Twilight Zone kind of feel to it. Really good, but really weird. What a strange marvel had appeared in his life.

“I had no idea Zeta would do what she did,” Lark said. “One minute I was telling her what a good time I had at one of our spas, and the next moment, she was crying. I hope you’re not upset with me.”

Everett opened his mouth to talk, but nothing came out. He felt overcome with gratitude. He hadn’t lost his biggest client, only Zeta.

“Maybe we need some fresh air,” Lark said.

Sounded good. Everett hurried back for their coats and then escorted her right through the French doors and out into the garden. It was time to give Lark a big kiss or a large amount of cash. Whichever she’d prefer. He kept them walking until they were alone. The full moon dazzled the night sky, the fountain burbled and splashed, and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so good. “Who are you?” Everett laughed.

“I am Larkspur Camellia Wendell.” She seemed to enjoy his odd question. “My mother loved flowers.”

“I guess so.” He stepped closer to her. “It’s a beautiful name.” He needed to come up with a new word besides beautiful. Mental note: Buy thesaurus.

“Thank you. I like your name, too. And your parents and grandparents must have liked it, too, since you are the third. Did everyone end up calling you Junior?”

“No. They tried. But I put a stop to it. Too infantile.”

“I agree,” Lark said. “So are you wanting to name your son Everett Holden IV?”

“No. It wouldn’t even be a good name for a dog, let alone a kid.” He’d never understood the need for male family members to have the same name. It reminded him of dogs marking their territory. It was a ludicrous custom.

“So. . .do you like. . .kids?” Lark fingered her earring.

Everett thought for a moment. A long moment. Slowly, he nodded. “Yeah. I like kids. Always thought maybe I’d want a couple someday.”

“Yeah. Me, too,” Lark said. “I’m curious about something else. Did you have a dog growing up?”

“Boy, and I thought I had all the questions.” Everett smiled. “Yeah. I had a dog when I was a kid. But I’ve never had one as an adult.” He put his hands in his coat pockets. “They require a lot of attention.”

“And that’s why Igor is living with me instead of you?”

Everett nodded. “I’m sorry. I don’t have a lot of time for a pet.”

“Well then, what makes you think you’d have time for a child?” Lark teased.

Oh, didn’t she have all the piercing questions? Everett took in a breath of air. “It’s a matter of priorities, I guess. Pets aren’t a priority for me. Children would be.” He suddenly wondered how committed he was to those words. She seemed bent on having him think through his whole life-agenda in one evening.

Lark gave him a smile. “Since you’re busy, I’m so glad you had time to talk to me.”

“Well, I guess I hoped there’d be a bit more than just talk.” Did those words actually come out of my mouth?

Lark’s mouth came open in surprise. “Are you flirting with me, Mr. Holden?”

Everett wondered if his timing was off. “Maybe a little.”

“Maybe you’d better tell me about your objectives so I can decide if I approve.” Lark pretended to straighten his bowtie.

He decided to throw caution to the wind and just say it out loud. “Well, I’d like to kiss the palm of your hand.” Did that come off nerdy or appealing?

“That’s honest.” Lark fluttered her eyelashes. “Permission granted.”

Everett reached for her hands and held them for a moment. Warm and soft. The way he imagined them. He brought one of her hands to his lips, slowly turned it over, and did just as he’d promised. When he looked back at Lark’s face, she had a contented expression. “I guess I didn’t answer your question from before. I’m not upset with you about Zeta. I won’t lose Ozark Consulting as a client just because she’s leaving.”

“I guess you don’t seem too upset.” Lark grinned.

Everett stared at her lips. “In fact, you seemed to fix my life tonight. As well as Zeta’s. How do you do that?”

Lark stepped back as if trying to regain her composure. “I’m just being me. It’s what my mother always said. ‘Just be yourself, Lark. Love people, and most of the time, they will love you back.’ ”

“And has it been true?” Everett asked.

“Not always. But enough.”

Everett watched Lark as she moved her cape aside to touch the petals of a rather delicate-looking flower that had survived the freeze. Some of the fabric on her dress billowed outside her velvet cape. The gauzy material stirred around her in a breeze, making her look more like a fantasy than anything real. He thought she must have lived a pretty sheltered life. But he didn’t want to spoil a really good moment, so he let it go.

“What will happen now?” Lark asked. “Do you know who your new contact at Ozark Consulting will be?”

“Well, I guess Bard Langley would be up next for Zeta’s job. And that would be a good thing because we’ve always gotten along well.”

“I’m glad for you.”

Yes. I’m very glad for myself, too. He had this sudden urge to buy something for Lark. A boat or a house. . .or a diamond ring. Come on, old boy. Not ready for that one yet. But he was ready for a kiss. And this time not the palm of her hand. Without wasting another minute, Everett traced a finger down her cheek. He then leaned over and brushed his lips across her face.

Lark’s eyes drifted shut as he moved his mouth over hers. His heart rate sped up as if he were sprinting. That’s never happened before. In spite of the cooling air, Everett broke out into a sweat. Am I having a heart attack? Mental note: Better make an appointment for a stressed EKG. But whatever was happening, he didn’t want to let go of Lark. He held her close as she lifted her arms around his neck. Her breathing changed tempo, and he wondered if she were experiencing the same sort of alarm bells.

Then a floating sensation washed over him as if he’d been set adrift in a small boat. Well, floating felt better than a heart attack. From somewhere in his head an old mantra came back to taunt him. Passive resistance and neutrality. I can’t believe those were my words concerning this dazzling woman in my arms. Whatever resistance he had left was asked to leave.

When the kiss ended, Lark looked dazed, almost breathless. “That was the most wonderful kiss I’ve ever had,” she said.

Everett felt pleasantly startled. He wondered if people on first dates were supposed to reveal their private thoughts. “Really?” he asked, without thinking.

“Electrifying.” Lark looked down as if she were suddenly a little embarrassed.

“You mean like touching a light socket?” He grinned.

Lark laughed. “No.”

“Yeah, well I had this fast heartbeat thing going,” Everett said. “And it certainly doesn’t seem cold out here anymore.”

“Well, I wouldn’t kill you if we kissed again, would I?”

“I guess there’s one way to find out.” He leaned in for a bit more of the sweet stuff.

When Everett released her, Lark looked at him as if she were trying to read his thoughts. Without either of them saying a word, they both sat down on a nearby bench. She looked up at the moon.

Everett followed her gaze.

“It’s so lovely. What do you see, Mr. Holden?”

“Well, I suppose there are seas, craters. . .scars.” Everett wondered what she meant. “You know, moon parts.”

“Close your eyes,” Lark said.

Everett hesitated and then complied with her request. The sounds around him changed. He could hear her breathing. Soft. Steady. Then he felt the tiniest kiss on each eyelid. As delicate as a breeze. That felt pretty good. He opened his eyes again as she sat back down.

“What else do you see, Mr. Holden?”

Everett looked up at the moon and then followed its radiance to her face. “You glow from the reflection. You look like a guardian angel.”

“You do, too.” Lark kissed his cheek and smiled.

A gust of cold air whistled through the pines. “Let’s go back inside.” After another brief kiss, they headed toward the party.

Once inside, Everett noticed people were staring at them. Has something else happened? Or could it be because Lark looks so—new word—spectacular in that blue dress?

“Are you hungry?”

“Very,” Lark said.

“All right. Let’s go for it.”

“While you’re waiting in line, do you mind if I check my lipstick? I think it’s been mussed a little.” She grinned.

“It looks perfect, but I’ll be right here in line.” The moment Lark left his presence, Sylvester Markus, the owner of Ozark Consulting, barreled over to him. Sylvester leaned in to talk quietly. “Well, I guess you heard about Zeta. A day spa.” There was an awkward moment, and then a blubbering bout of laughter. “You’ve been a first-rate contractor, my boy, and so I wanted to talk to you about becoming an employee here. You could take over Zeta’s position, and it would mean a hefty raise. So I’d like to see you in my office tomorrow morning,” he said. “What do you say?”

“All right.” Everett tried not to overreact, but he gave the man plenty of affirmative answers even though he had to dodge his spit as they continued to talk.

After Sylvester walked away, Everett’s mind reeled with the news. Hadn’t he secretly hoped to have a more permanent position there? He glanced around, eager to spot Lark, to tell her about the offer. Suddenly, Everett heard a slapping noise. One of those loud, cracking ones like in the movies when a woman slaps a man. Surely not. But rumors were that Sylvester’s hands could be a bit nomadic with the female personnel.

A few people gasped. The small crowd parted. Everett stared at the sight. Lark appeared flushed as a mortified Sylvester put his fingers up to the red handprint on his face.

Lark strode over to Everett, looking upset. He placed a reassuring arm around her as he frowned his disapproval at the very man who appeared to control a big part of his professional life. Sylvester. What a terrible turn of events.

He wanted to raise his voice at Sylvester, but unfortunately, people were waiting for that very reaction. The party atmosphere and music died out. He could hear their murmurings, and they wanted blood. Or at least a scene of some kind. But there wasn’t going to be an ugly spectacle. Just a promise.

Everett raised his head. “I will not be coming to your office tomorrow to talk about a job or a raise,” he said to Sylvester. “In fact, if this is the kind of sordid behavior promoted at Ozark Consulting, consider our contract terminated.”