Second Chance Girl (Happily Inc. #2)

“Of course.” The server collected the menus and left.

Ulrich picked up his Scotch. “How did you get into the button business?”

“It was that fateful summer in England,” she admitted. “Hanging out in your attic. Your grandmother showed me some old clothes and told me I could pick out something to take home as a souvenir. I couldn’t decide, then I found a box of old buttons. I asked for those. Your grandmother sent me home with three boxes. I was in heaven.”

She laughed. “I know it sounds crazy, but I really enjoyed sorting them and I started to do some research. A friend’s mom saw some of them and asked to buy a set for a dress. That was exciting. I was living in New York so I went to all the antique shops I could and looked for buttons. For a while I thought about going to design school and while I was touring one, I talked to someone who told me there was a whole button market. One thing led to another and here I am.”

“Running a button empire.”

“If only.” She grinned. “I do enjoy it. I also do some tailoring and custom work for wedding parties. I can modify a wedding gown or the bridesmaid dresses. A few months ago, I worked on a wedding set in a computer game world. It was great fun. I found these amazing buttons for the dress.”

She thought of how everything had turned out. “My friend Pallas is engaged to this guy. Nick is a gifted artist. He actually painted the wedding gown.” She shuddered. “The outcome was amazing, but it still breaks my heart to think about him taking paint to the lace.”

“Because it simply isn’t done?”

“Exactly. I’m so glad you get that.”

“I’m English. I was born to be proper.”

“I suspect you have your moments.”

His eyes locked with hers. Tension seemed to build between them—the kind of tension that stole her breath and made her want to be reckless. Her fourteen-year-old self was thrilled at the prospect.

She sighed. “You’re a dangerous man.”

“Me?”

“Oh, yeah. I know it’s the accent. I wonder if that’s because we used to be a colony. Liking an English accent is in our DNA or something. Maybe the groundwater. Anyway, you could read the phone book and it would be appealing. Does it work that way back home?”

“Sadly, there I do not have the pleasure of being exotic.”

She wanted to say he could stay here a few weeks and soak up the worship, but knew the statement would come out wrong. Or worse, sound as if she were... What? Interested in him? She was, in an I-know-you’re-leaving-tomorrow-so-it’s-safe-to-flirt-tonight kind of way.

For a second she thought about how things were going to end that evening. Could she suggest that they go back to his place? She liked him. She found him attractive and she would be delighted to take things to the next level. But her next level and sex weren’t exactly the same. She’d never had a one-night stand and guessed that she never would. She wasn’t the type. She wanted to be the one, which was the opposite of hooking up. And while that hadn’t happened yet, it was important that she keep hoping. Sleeping with a guy for one night violated that dream in a way she didn’t like.

Not that, you know, Ulrich was asking.

“You’re thinking about something,” he murmured.

“That I am. So, you’re going to have to get married and have heirs, aren’t you?”

He nearly choked. “That’s direct.”

And a neat change of subject, she thought smugly. “I know. It’s an American thing again. So, is there a future duchess waiting at home?”

“Not at this time. There is, however, pressure.”

“Sure. Your grand estate had needs.”

“Don’t remind me. It was difficult enough the first time.” He glanced at her. “Getting married, I mean.”

“I didn’t think you were talking about the heir producing.”

“Excellent.”

She smiled. “Why was it difficult? You have commitment issues? Too many fish in the sea?”

“It was more about finding the right fish. Penelope and I were very much alike. Family and duty mattered. We were friends and thought that was enough.”

They hadn’t been in love? How sad. Violet wanted to be in love and she wanted to be loved in return. Otherwise, why get married? Of course she didn’t have a five-hundred-year-old inheritance to steward into the next century.

“I’m sorry it wasn’t,” she said quietly.

“I am, as well.” Ulrich finished his drink, then looked at her. “She left me for someone.”

“Oh. I didn’t know. Your grandmother wouldn’t have mentioned that to me.”

“You’re right. She wouldn’t.” He paused. “It was a woman. When I asked Penelope why she hadn’t told me the truth from the beginning, she said she’d been hoping she was wrong. That I would change her mind.” His smile was self-deprecating. “I like to think I’m rather good, but no one is that good.”

Violet honestly had no idea what to say. “I’m sorry.”

“Me, too.” One shoulder rose and lowered. “I’ve heard she’s in a relationship now and is very happy. I wish her the best.”

“You’re a good man.”

“Thank you. I try. Now we shall change the subject to something slightly more interesting. I’d like to hear about the wedding you’re currently working on.”

“It’s normal. Completely and totally regular. No under-the-sea, no aliens, no cowboys.”

“How disappointing.”

“Tell me about it.”

*

THE EVENING FLEW BY. Violet found herself more charmed with each passing minute. Ulrich had her laughing as he told her about his trip to Hollywood and she talked about her summers in South Africa and how she was so not the outdoor type. By the time she and Ulrich finished their coffees, she found herself wondering if it was possible to fall for someone in a matter of hours.

Not that she had. She was caught up in a very fun, very unreal set of circumstances. Her reaction to Ulrich was partly the wine, partly the fact that he was leaving and partly all the daydreams she’d had about the young man who had taken the time to make her younger self feel special for a moment or two. It wasn’t real. Come tomorrow, he would fly home and she would return to her regularly scheduled life. All she had to do was get through the next few minutes without making a fool of herself.