Real Romance

chapter Three



David held the big wedding planner in his hands and flipped through its spiral-bound pages.

"You getting hitched?" Caroline asked, her voice weighted with skepticism.

David spun in his chair to face his blond bombshell boss. Funny how he'd stopped noticing how good-looking she was the moment she'd started barking out orders. She was a tough businesswoman, but fair. And, not so incidentally, a contented wife and the mother of two children. Definitely off limits. Caroline chided him about settling down, in a tolerant big-sisterly way. Not that she was that much older, but her superior professional status brought out the mother hen in her. David suspected he was about to get pecked on.

"Can't a man do a little leisure reading on his lunch hour?" David asked, with mock defensiveness.

"Sure, read these," she said, dropping a stack of files on his desk.

David leaned back in his chair and propped his feet up on his desk, crossing his legs comfortably at the ankles.

"You can work me like a slave driver eight hours a day, but these forty-five minutes," he said, clutching the thick planner to his chest, "are mine!"

"All right, big boy," she said, laying a hand on her hip. "What's in there? Honeymoon lingerie, perhaps?" She made a move toward the book.

"Not so fast," David said, holding her back with an extended hand.

"It's not..." Caroline's slender shoulders sagged. "Tell me it's not your sister Debbie heading down the aisle yet again."

"It's not Debbie," he said with a flawless grin.

"Okay, David," Caroline said with a giant lunge in his direction, "give it here."

She caught one end of the large book in her hand and tugged.

"Hey!" he yelped, dropping his feet to the floor, as a sheaf of papers spilled forth. "Give that back!"

"David, I swear, if there's something pornographic in—"

Caroline yanked and the planner tumbled to the floor, pages fanning out in wild disarray.

"What's this?" she asked, nabbing an unfolded brochure off the floor. "A Books & Bistro events calendar?"

"Oh my God, David," she said, furiously fanning her face with the flyer. "This is worse than I thought! You're actually reading!"



Marie crumpled up another tear-stained tissue and added it to the heap on the floor. In the three years since she'd been promoted to manager, she could count the times she'd called in sick on one hand. And today was one of them.

Cecil and Diane? How could she have been so blind? And right under her nose!

And what—if anything—did the mysterious heartthrob David Lake know about all this? A regular Don Juan, he'd said in reference to Cecil. Marie clutched her stomach, fearing she would throw up. How many? Just how many other women had there been, then? Five? Fifteen, twenty? Oh, God.

Marie stood and rushed to the bathroom where she vomited violently.

Thank God she wasn't pregnant, she thought, as her bare knees hit the cold tile floor. She rested her head in her hands over the porcelain john, recalling Cecil's recent suggestion that they make a baby.

"Don't you think it'd be better if we got married first?" was all she had asked.

He'd stormed out the door, and not come back for five hours—at which time he'd produced a bouquet of limp daisies and a half-hearted apology. "One commitment at a time," was what he'd said.

It had been a cruel thing to say, knowing how badly Marie wanted a child. For a while, she thought she'd never want to have her own. But, as time moved on and that old biological clock started ticking, she'd begun to change her mind.



After her parents' car accident, she'd practically raised her four younger brothers and sisters. Her mother had died instantly, and her father had become permanently disabled. At age sixteen, Marie had been thrust into the role of running the household, scrounging together nutritious meals on the meager checks from her dad's disability payments.

Those had been some dreadful days. Coming of age as a woman and yearning for her mother, all the while having to hide that fact because "mother" was precisely what she had to be.

Marie stood and splashed cold water on her face, feeling better.

Now, each of her siblings was on his own. Her two sisters married, Johnny engaged, and Mark just enrolled in graduate school. She'd done a good job with them, she supposed. But then again, so had her father. He'd been a rock for the family until he'd died last spring. Always keeping his chin up, despite his paralysis. Never too tired or preoccupied to listen.

Marie knew her sometimes unruly brothers wouldn't have turned out nearly as well without their father's patient wisdom to guide them. At times, they'd driven Marie so crazy with their teenage antics, that her only refuge had been to escape to her room with a book.

Reading had seen her through the difficult times. No matter what was going on outside her bedroom door, she could curl up under the covers and imagine that someday a handsome prince would come along to take her away from all of it.

But all the handsome princes in Marie's high school class went off to college while she had to stay home and help support the family.

Her first job in a bookstore was heaven. She felt a comfort in the unending rows of books, a special camaraderie with the host of unexplored fictional characters—just waiting for her touch to reveal their secret worlds.

Marie walked to the kitchen and poured herself a glass of water, wondering what she would do with herself today. It had been at least a year since she'd had a Sunday off. She was out of books and out of money, and the local library was closed. Oh well, she thought, flipping on the coffeemaker. There was always a walk in the park. Maybe the fresh air would do her good.



David pulled back as Jupiter strained at the leash.

"Whoa there, boy! Hang on!"

But it was David who was hanging on for dear life as the black Lab fixated on the squirrel with a whine, and then another... yank!

David stumbled forward as the big dog broke free and bolted into the trees.

He rubbed his sweaty palms on his pants and looked frantically in all directions. Now what was he going to do? Caroline would kill him if he lost her stupid dog.

"Jupiter! Here, fella!" he called in his biggest, booming voice.

Nothing.

He forcefully clapped his hands together and tried again.

There was a slight rustling in the bushes behind the park fountain.

"Jupiter!"

The movement stopped.

David had an idea. He placed two fingers between his teeth, spun around and whistled—hard.

"Most people just say hello."

David jerked his head sideways.

There stood Marie McCloud in a knee-length overcoat, hands fitted tightly over both ears. Her cheeks were flushed with morning cold, her lips the prettiest shade of pink.

For a moment David forgot all about the dog.

"Marie!"

"What," she asked, giving the park a suspicious sweep of her eyes, "exactly are you doing?"

"Oh," he said, letting out a full breath that clouded the air, "looking for Jupiter."

Marie's eyebrows shot up. "Hate to tell you this, but I think you'd have better luck at night."

David looked blank. Blank, but incredibly handsome, she decided. Even in his ratty gray sweats, and sky-blue parka. Didn't hurt that the color of his coat matched his gorgeous eyes.

"Oh!" he smiled, his whole face lighting up. Then he laughed in that rich, rumbling baritone Marie liked so much.

"Not the planet," he said patiently. "Jupiter is Caroline's dog."

Oh, Marie thought, as disappointment hit her hard. So he was taken. She felt her temper begin to simmer. Taken, and yet he'd still invited her to lunch?

Marie stared down at the leash dangling in David's hand. "Well, I'm sure Caroline won't be any more upset about you losing her dog than you hitting on your clientele."

"Client..." David's voice fell off, as his face turned a hue akin to purple.

"One question, David," Marie asked, her anger growing. "Do you always make passes at girls who wear glasses? Or, was I special?"

"I, uh..."

His neck was crimson, and his ears so vivid they looked like they were about to fall off.

At that moment, a frisky black Lab bounded out of the bushes and made a beeline for her knees.

"Hey there, big guy," she said, bending to scratch the salivating animal behind its ears.

Marie stuck out a hand and snatched the leash, instantly clamping it on to Jupiter's collar in one deft move.

"Go home to Caroline, David," she said, standing and handing over the lead.

"Home?"

Marie turned and began walking out of the park.

"Wait!" David said, racing to meet her, Jupiter galloping at his side. "Caroline's not at home!"

Marie cast him a sideways glance through heir glasses. "Sorry, David. I'm not into that. You'll have to do your two-timing with someone else."

She picked up her pace and kept going.

"No, you don't under—"

Jupiter collapsed in a heap and rolled sideways.

"Get up!" David pulled on the leash, but Jupiter just lowered his head to the pavement, tongue lolling out.

David looked up at Marie's curvy figure disappearing through the morning fog.

"Wait! Don't go! You've got it all..."

But it was too late. She'd already melted into the mist.



David put down the book and rubbed his temples. Holy cow, this was going to be even harder than he thought. What was the deal with this stuff, anyway? The dialogue wasn't even in quotation marks, for God's sake. So how in heaven's name was he supposed to know who was saying what? Much less thinking it?

David massaged his aching knees in frustration and stood to grab a beer.

He walked to the refrigerator, picked up a bottle and popped the top. Was she really worth it? David had never done anything like this before. Gone completely overboard for some woman. Some women who was engaged, for crying out loud. And she disapproved of him anyway, because she thought he had a woman named Caroline at home.

Marie was neatly tied up in a relationship that meant matrimony eventually. But then again, maybe it didn't. That was the hope David clung to. He knew from his sister Debbie's experiences that engaged women didn't necessarily walk down the aisle every time. Heck, for some women, it seemed to be a whole lot like shopping. Don't like the man after a while, return him. Nonetheless, David wanted to believe that once Marie committed to him, her shopping around would be over.

David froze as an ice-cold swig sliced down his throat.

Of course, that meant that his shopping around would be over as well... No more late nights with Candy, the aerobics instructor, or Lizbeth, his sexy new mechanic.

David took another swig of beer, letting the panic pass.

He was getting way ahead of himself here. Thinking about happily-ever-after! Holy cow. That wasn't what he wanted...

Was it?

He wanted Marie's attention, sure. But the exasperating woman didn't seem to want to give him a second look.

At first, there'd been a gleam in her eyes. That telling sparkle that told David he had half a chance...

But after the park, she'd acted like she could barely stand the sight of him. Even when he went into her store to buy some of Cecil's recommendations.

He'd approached her directly, but she'd claimed she was busy setting up some kind of wine tasting and assigned a flunky to help him.

Give him a break! Did Marie really expect David to believe they'd be serving wine in a bookstore? They couldn't possibly have a liquor license. Unless, of course, the brother of the guy who owned the place, who just happened to be the sheriff, had called in some favors at City Hall.

David set his beer on the counter, and began to imagine himself and Marie running down the steps of City Hall, hand in hand, smiling and happy. Her dark, wavy hair was piled high and studded with wildflowers, sweet curls breaking free to frame her glowing face.

David coughed loudly and shook his head. Next he would be seeing babies!

Better get back to his reading, he thought, carrying his brew to the armchair. All this fantasizing was getting him nowhere. And David Lake wasn't made for dreams. He was built for action.

Now, if he could just finish this blasted book, then maybe he'd be able to convince Marie his actions spoke louder than words.