Authors: Elaine Raco Chase
"I'm afraid I packed a very
limited wardrobe."
"I have a hunch your creative
imagination is endless."
The evening, Amanda decided was
starting out a perfect ten. And there was every indication it might reach even
higher. The atmosphere in the Jade Garden was quiet, cozy and romantic. Soft
music, candles flickering beneath dainty silk-screen lanterns and the privacy
curtain that surrounded their banquette made for a perfect tête-à-tête.
There had been, however, a small
crack in the fortune cookie. Amanda gave an inward grimace while she studied
the detailed menu.
Lucas.
The man acted like a two-year-old
being left with a baby-sitter for the first time. He hadn't even been civil
enough to greet Wade at the door.
Strange, her father had always acted
the same way when she had gone out on dates. Her mother said he was jealous -
thinking perhaps this male would replace him in her life. She exhaled a
confused sigh. She wondered if this were typical "big brother"
jealousy.
Men! Weren't they the ones who said
women were complex and complicated?
Four masculine fingers pulled down
the glossy black-covered menu. "Let me guess." Wade's knowledgeable
smile strove to remove the creases that etched her previously smooth forehead.
"You're having trouble deciding which one to order from Column A, Column B
and Column C."
"I'm going to put myself totally
in your capable hands." Her husky voice issued the invitation. Amanda
shifted her legs. Their knees touched, but neither of them broke physical
contact.
The waiter's beaming moon-face
appeared between the curtains. Without hesitation, Wade ordered seven suns and
a moon for two, wonton soup, rice, tea and fortune cookies. "You won't be
disappointed," he promised Amanda after the waiter had bowed his leave.
"The food here is authentic and excellent."
Reaching for the ice water, Amanda
took a moment to reassess her initial reaction to the new man who had entered
her perimeter. She found that the second appraisal reaffirmed her first
impression. Wade was attractive but not overtly handsome, casual and relaxed
yet self-assured and polished. Amanda liked his smile, his voice, his stature.
But most of all she liked his eyes. "Now tell me about your meeting that
was canceled." Her lips issued a subtle smile. "I'd like to send them
a thank-you note."
His appreciative laugh enhanced the
spirit of fun. "You are wonderful for a man's ego, Amanda." Wade's
hand covered hers, long, blunt fingers entwined with feminine, polished ones.
"But I insist that you tell me about your day."
"I finished painting Lucas'
bedroom while he worked around the property, then we took to the pond on
horseback for a swim and a picnic." Silk-shrouded shoulders gave a casual
shrug. "Not all that interesting." Amanda found she was thriving on
his rapt attention and tried to prolong her enjoyment.
"Interesting and
intriguing." His thumb made little circles against the sensitive skin on
her wrist. Wade found growing resentment toward the table that made body
contact so restrictive. "You already know I'm allergic to tomatoes,"
he coaxed lightly. "I want the same ammunition."
Her smile sought to captivate.
"I'm afraid I have no known allergies, Mr. Lloyd." Amanda grinned,
her tone less little-girlish. "Which is very lucky, since I adore Creole
and Cajun cooking and all other types, for that matter?"
"Where do you live? What's it
like?"
Her answer was stayed while white
lotus bowls of steaming, fragrant soup were placed before them. "I have a very
nice townhouse on Lake Pontchartrain. I bought it five years ago when the area
was first being developed." Her spoon stirred the golden liquid, toying
with the small meat-filled dumplings. "All the units are basically the
same, but inside I created a world of my own." Amanda cleared her throat.
"I hadn't realized how much I missed my home." Her self-conscious
laugh gave way to a crimson blush.
Wade's eyes grew soft. "I wish I
could embrace those same feelings toward my own place." At her look of
inquiry, he continued. "I bought two condo units in Prestonwood, the same
area Kitty lives in. I rent one out and use the other. But like Kitty, I, too,
had some unknown decorator furnish the place, and it really just serves a
function." He added crispy fried noodles to his soup. "Perhaps after
you're through with Lucas' house you can work your magic touch in mine?"
"I'm flattered." Amanda
poured greenish-brown oolong tea into scenic pattern china cups. "Maybe
you should inspect the results first," she advised with a smile.
"If Lucas wouldn't mind the
intrusion?"
Her red linen napkin came up to mask
her frown. "I'll see about talking him into a housewarming party. Although
it may have to wait until I find a dining room set."
"I was really very surprised
when Lucas and Kitty got together."
"I don't understand."
Amanda blinked questioningly. "They looked the perfect couple last
night."
"I've known Kitty for three
years," Wade replied, broad shoulders relaxing into the leather seat.
"She's a very young twenty-four, very immature, although not in her work
habits," he added hastily. "I mean in attitude. Kitty is still caught
up in images, out to prove she's free. Anxious to have it all. Have it right
now. This instant. And Lucas is . . .well. . ." His hand massaged his jaw.
"I have the feeling Lucas and I are very much alike. We appreciate less
nouveau and are captivated by the real thing."
He focused on Amanda. Her halo of
brown curls reflected burnished lights; soft tendrils coiled around ears that
invited sensual whispers. Wade found a vulnerability that was quite alluring in
her features. The tender curve of her cheek, the soft, full lips, and those
marvelous smoky irises. He wanted to see them darken with passion - for him.
How
in the world could Crosse have gotten so lucky? He envied the man. Envied?
Hell, he was jealous!
A rueful smile twisted Wade's firm, masculine lips.
"Here I am going on about two people who aren't at all my concern, when I
really have yet to learn all I can about you."
"Let me see, where shall I
begin?" Amanda gave an exaggerated sigh, her fingertip bouncing in
contemplation against her chin. "I was born on a dark and stormy
night," her husky voice intoned, eyes sparking with mischievous flames.
Their shared amusement was
interrupted by the entrée. Wade politely dismissed the waiter and served the
food himself. As the silver chafing dish cover was lifted, a delicious aroma
filled the air, instantly arousing their taste buds. The colorful main dish was
equally pleasing to the eye.
"You certainly did not
exaggerate the cuisine." Amanda offered her plate and was rewarded with
crisp vegetables cooked in a wok, boned chicken, jumbo broiled shrimps, lobster
chunks and delicate strips of pork over a base of fluffy rice.
A mutual silence enveloped the couple
while they sampled the elegant Chinese fare. Filled tea cups clicked together
in a respectful toast to the chef.
"You just can't leave me lost in
a storm," Wade remarked, enhancing the snow peas with soy sauce.
"Finish your story,"
Amanda smiled. "You certainly
are a determined man." She speared a slice of pork. "I am an only
child and an Army brat." She let that sink in while she chewed. "My
family moved around the various bases in this country and we spent eighteen
months in Germany. My parents are retired now and live in North Carolina."
"Ahhh…so that's why there's no
southern accent. What were you like as a child? How did you get interested in
fashion design?" Wade pressed, anxious to sample her life.
"As a child, well…" her
fork sifted through the rice, looking for another lobster tidbit, "I was
tall, sassy, stubborn, independent. Much the same as I am today." Amanda
found she was holding back little intimacies that she usually laughed at.
Strange, she hadn't with Lucas, and twelve years ago she had been at an age
when such youthful frailties were so all-important.
Sweetened, pungent tea cleansed her
palate and gave her time to arrange her thoughts. "I guess I started out
being interested in fashion the way a lot of girls do." At his arched dark
brow, Amanda supplied: "Designing doll clothes. I started with crayons on
paper towels, graduated to scraps of material and a needle and thread, then
continued with patterns and a sewing machine.
"I was very artistic, had a good
eye for color and shapes and -" Her hand made a graceful gesture. "I
spent two years studying art at NYU, two years at the Fashion Institute of
Technology, then won a scholarship to Couture School in Paris, which was where
I quickly learned I knew absolutely nothing." Amanda expelled a low
chuckle. "I returned to New York, became an assistant chief designer on
Seventh Avenue. Did six collections in three seasons and was scared to death
after each one.
"Indigestion, insomnia and
headaches became a way of life, and when I didn't have one of the above, I got
one wondering why I didn't have it in the first place." Her tongue
moistened dry lips. "But for all that insanity, I reaped great personal
rewards and many, many friends. I think it was the most exciting time in my
life, save when I first started my own business."
Wade had long abandoned his dinner,
savoring instead the myriad of emotions that regaled Amanda's softly flushed
features. "Tell me about that too." His tone had an urgency that
surprised them both.
She hesitated for a moment, trying to
decide if he was being polite or sincere. Amanda banked on the last. "The
transition from designer to businesswoman was quite accidental. I was in my
bank waiting for traveler's checks when I overheard a lawyer talking to one of
the bank officers. The lawyer had an estate to sell that included a dress shop
in the French Quarter. I sassily -" she gave him an impertinent wink,
"interrupted. We adjourned our discussion to lunch. Instead of going to
Paradise Island as I had planned, I went to New Orleans and fell in love with
the shop on Royal Street.
"I called Lucas for legal advice
and he flew over. We spent days going over figures with the bank and finally I
signed my name on innumerable dotted lines." Amanda's gray eyes were
shrouded in memories. "My insomnia, headaches and indigestion came back
and I was," her laughter dispelled her serious tone, "higher than a
kite."
The scattered remains of their dinner
were deftly removed. A fresh pot of tea, orange sorbet and two fortune cookies
commanded attention.
"I get the feeling that the word
was
figures prominently in your life right now," Wade ventured,
quickly becoming susceptible to the inflections in her voice. "Isn't the
shop doing well? I know the economy puts a lot of stress on the small
businessman."
The orange sherbet felt cool and tart
against her throat. "
Rags 'n' Riches
is doing exceptionally
well." Amanda was finding it difficult not to brag. "Our gross sales
have been running four times the national average, no matter what the economy
is doing." She paused to sip her tea before continuing.
"This year's payroll alone
equals the gross sales volume the store did three years ago. I'm importing more
fashions from Europe due to the demands of my customers, and I've added jewelry,
scarves, leather goods and other accessories plus my own talent when someone
requests a one-of-a-kind design."
His fruit ice disintegrated the
instant it touched his tongue. "That's. . .that's quite an
achievement." Wade didn't have to feign surprise. He had never expected
Amanda Wyatt to be such a competent businesswoman. "I always thought women
would buy and wear just about anything."
Her tone was as acerbic as their
dessert. "Wade, that's a very old-fashioned, chauvinistic statement."
He opened his mouth, then quickly
closed it. His head shook with self-inflicted mortification. "I
apologize." His finger inched away the tan shirt collar that had become
quite constricted. "I confess I'm amazed at your prowess. When we talked
about the boutique last night, I sloughed off your remarks to pride."
"I'm afraid I'm addicted to
pride on occasion." Amanda relaxed her defensive attitude, tempering her
further comments with undeniable charm. "I think of the store in a very
maternal way."
"Like the lioness protecting her
cub," he offered.
Amanda abandoned her spoon to the
half-empty dish. "An overly protective lioness," came her rueful
admission. "Even though I have some very talented, capable people working
for me, and this is always the slack season . . ." She shook her head.
"It was like pulling the proverbial tooth for me to leave."
Wade's perceptive blue gaze searched
Amanda's face, seeking the vitality that previously radiated. "You were
afraid to find just how well the cub could manage without his mother."
"Yes. I've been avoiding the
truth for a long time." Her hand ruffled the copper curls that sculpted
her head. "I settled into a comfortable routine, got used to not having
the fears that plagued my psyche and tried to ignore the boredom."
"We're a lot alike," his
voice was low and compelling, "thriving on a challenge, growing under
excitement, slightly reckless, harboring a bit of a gambler's instinct."