Read Roses in June Online

Authors: Clare Revell

Tags: #Christian fiction

Roses in June (8 page)

There was a really long pause, and he began to wonder if she was still there.

“Which night is the film?” she asked finally.

“Friday. It’s in London and starts at eight. I need to be there by seven thirty. If you’d like to come with me, that is.”

There was another long pause. “I’d like that,” she said, her voice even quieter.

“That’s great.” Gabe took a deep breath.
In for a penny, in for a pound
. “Would you like dinner on Thursday?”

“Sure.”

“I’ll pick you up at seven. See you Thursday.”

~*~

Dawn hung up and pushed back into her chair. She had nothing to wear. Either to dinner or to a film premiere. Let alone knew what to do. She glanced at the clock and shoved the marking into her box. She headed down the hallway to her classroom. Closing the door, she sat behind her desk and rang Jonni.

Jonni Peterson, her best friend since their first day at school, they’d been inseparable until work had sent Jonni north and Dawn south. Now they only spoke on the phone, meeting up oh so rarely. The call hung for a moment then connected.

“Hello?” Jonni’s voice was the usual ray of sunshine on a cloudy day.

“Hey, it’s me.”

“Hey, stranger. What are you doing?”

“Not much.” Dawn sighed. “I wish you lived closer and could come over tonight.”

“Why’s that?” Typing echoed in the background as Jonni chatted.

“I need some advice.”

“So shoot. So long as you don’t mind me typing at the same time. Bryan wants this report done by one for a meeting.”

“I’ve been asked on a date.” Dawn swung her chair around to face the window. “Well, actually it’s two dates.”

“Say yes.”

“By Gabriel Tyler.”

“Say yes…wait a minute.
The
Gabriel Tyler?”

“Yes, apparently. Not that I’ve seen any of his stuff.”

Jonni’s typing ceased. “Wow, girl. How on earth did you meet
him
?”

Dawn explained quickly. “And he wants to take me to see his new film. On Friday. At the premiere. In London.”

“Say yes.”

Dawn rolled her eyes. “Can you say nothing else, Jonni? I’m drowning here. I have no idea what to wear, how to act or anything. You’ve been to one of these affairs, I haven’t.”

“OK. Big hug coming down the phone. You need an evening gown, either sleeveless or with one of those bodice jacket things. Full length, mint green because that color suits you. Pearl necklace and earrings. And I know
Staci’s
has dresses that color in stock because I saw them on my way in this morning. The branch in Headley Cross should have them.”

“Thanks, hon. I’ll look on my way home tonight. So how’s Bryan?”

Jonni sighed. “He’s fine. Still keeps asking. Still keeps being told no. What is it with men and not wanting to wait until marriage? Not that he’s asked me to marry him. He just wants me to move in with him instead.”

“Maybe he’s not the right bloke for you.”

“Maybe Mr. Right lives in Australia?” Jonni suggested.

Dawn laughed. “And maybe he lives in the middle of the nineteenth century.”

Jonni laughed as well. “Either way I’m never likely to meet him. Anyway, enough of that. How was your field trip?”

“It was fun.” The bell went. “OK, gotta go.”

“Call me after your date.”

“It’s not a date, date.”

“It’s a date, date. Call me with the gossip. Love you.”

“Love you, too.” Dawn turned the phone off as the year tens trooped into the room.

~*~

Dot on seven Thursday evening, the doorbell rang. Dawn tugged her dress straight hoping she’d pass muster. She’d never been out to dinner with an Earl before or an actor and wasn’t sure which one of them was picking her up.

Gabe stood there. His brown hair neatly combed and blue eyes shining. He wore a pale blue shirt with navy tie, slacks, and jacket. “Hi.” He held out a bunch of yellow roses. “These are for you.”

“Thank you. Come on in.” She shut the door behind him and headed into the kitchen. “How’s the filming going?”

“Hectic. I’m back on set Saturday morning. How’s school? The kids glad to be back?”

“No. It’s stressful. Exam season is in full swing.”

“I remember that. Not anyone’s favorite time.”

Dawn put the flowers in a vase. “These smell heavenly. Probably why they reckon you are closer to God in a garden than anywhere else on earth. I love roses.”

“So do I. That’s why I chose them. And also because the color means friendship.”

“Oh?”

His gaze followed her every movement. “According to the florist, each color has its own meaning.”

“Neat. So the pink ones you sent?”

“Dark pink means thank you, gratitude, and appreciation. And I sent them because I really enjoyed the afternoon and evening of the careers fayre. I can see the attraction of conventions now.”

“I’ve never been to one of those either.”

“Do you even own a TV?” he teased.

“Yeah, just haven’t seen you on it.” She finished arranging the flowers. “There, done.”

“Lovely.” He checked his watch. “Shall we? I have a table booked for half past.”

She glanced down at herself. “Do I look all right? I didn’t know what to wear.”

“You look just fine.”

She grabbed her bag and followed him to the door. “Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise.” Gabe held the door open for her.

“I hate surprises. How do I know if I’m dressed right?”

“Trust me, you are. It’s Lancini’s.”

Dawn looked at him. That answered her question as to which man was taking her out. It was Gabriel the lord, not Gabriel the actor.

~*~

Gabe had booked a quiet table at the back of Lancini’s. A two star Michelin French restaurant, it was his favorite place to eat in Headley Cross.

He opened the door for Dawn escorting her inside with a gentle hand on the small of her back.

His heart raced with the slight touch, and he was grateful the dim lighting would hide his reaction.

The maître d’ greeted him with the usual smile. “Good evening, Lord Tyler. This way, ma’am.”

Gabe followed him, his hand still on Dawn’s back.


Lord
Tyler?” she hissed.

“The title has its advantages. I don’t have to book months in advance, and the maître d’ will keep any press at bay that saw us coming in.”

“The press?” Slight panic filled her for a moment. She hadn’t anticipated that, even though he’d mentioned the paparazzi before.

“The local rag likes keeping the natives happy with tales of what the toffs had for dinner.”

She grinned. “Something else your mother says?”

“Oh, yeah.”

They were almost to their table when Jeffery Palmer came over. “Lord Tyler?”

Gabe glanced around and sighed. He reached up and put a hand over the camera lens. “Please, not tonight. There will be plenty of opportunity for photos tomorrow evening in London at Leicester Square.”

“But my editor…”

“I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” The maître d’ intervened.

Gabe thought fast. “Tell you what, you can print two lines on the fact I was here with a friend for dinner. You can comment on what I eat, but you do not mention the fact my friend is a lady.”

“Will she be accompanying you tomorrow night?”

“If she is, you can have a picture then.” He turned his back on the journalist and took Dawn over to their table. “Sorry.”

The maître d’ followed with menus. “I’m so sorry, Lord Tyler.”

“It’s OK.”

“Can I get you some champagne?” the maître d’ asked.

Gabe shook his head. “Not for me, I’m driving tonight. Dawn?”

She shook her head.

Gabe thought. “A bottle of sparkling grape juice, please. And a jug of ice water.”

Dawn looked at the menu, scanning the page, her face falling as she did so.

“What’s up?”

“Nothing.” She bowed her head lower, her finger running down the prices to one side.

Gabe wasn’t convinced. “You’re not a very good liar, Dawn. What happened to being direct?”

“I can’t afford anything off this menu.”

He took a deep breath. “OK, let’s just get something straight here.”

The maître d’ came back over with the grape juice. He opened the bottle and poured two glasses. “Are you ready to order?”

“Do you trust me?” Gabe asked. As Dawn nodded, he glanced at the menu. “Then we’ll have the
coquilles St. Jacques grillées et minestrone de palourdes
to start with, please. We’ll order the rest in a few minutes.”

“Very good, my Lord.”

Gabe waited until the man was out of earshot before he looked at Dawn. “Yes, this place is horrendously expensive, but it has two Michelin stars so it would be. And, I asked you, therefore I’m paying. So pick whatever you want, and I don’t mean salad either. Unless you want a side salad then you can.”

“What did you just order?”

Gabe smiled. “Grilled scallops with a clam minestrone. But I can order something else if you’d rather.”

“It’s fine, I’ll try anything once.” She frowned at the menu.

“Their steak is to die for, which as Blake says is rather a waste. I’m going to have my usual, which is the
canette rôtie, cuisses confites, jus au porto, et pommes
mousseline
with the
oeufs à la neige
for dessert.”

“I have no idea what any of that means.” She lowered her voice blushing again. “I don’t speak French.”

Gabe leaned forward and whispered. “Not a problem. That translates as roast duck with crispy legs, beetroot tatin and port sauce with mashed potatoes. With floating islands for dessert.”

“Sounds good to me,” Dawn whispered.

“OK.” Gabe sat back and raised his voice to a normal level. He beckoned over the maître d’ and placed their orders.

Dawn tilted her head. “So, keeping with this being direct theme…it is good to know you’re a Christian.”

Gabe reached for his glass and swallowed before answering. “I’m a sinner saved by grace,” he said honestly. “I fail Him on a daily basis, but serve Him as best I can nonetheless. I wish I could say I’m perfect, but that isn’t going to happen this side of Heaven. And maybe one day I’ll find a job serving in the church on a Sunday that I can do—my acting career tends to get in the way of serving on communion or the welcome team. It plays havoc with the rotas.”

The starters arrived, and he reached across the table and took her hand to say grace. “What about you? Do you serve in the church at all?”

“I help out in the crèche once a month with the under threes.”

He picked up his fork. “Sounds like a busman’s holiday to me.”

“Nah. I just love the babies, and I’m on the flower rota which I also organize.” Dawn looked at her plate, as if unsure where to start.

He frowned. “Flower rota?”

She grinned. “Yeah. The flowers don’t just appear from nowhere each week. There are a whole team of us that take it in turns to do them. Maybe I should add you to it. Just dump a bunch of flowers in a vase once every six months. I can easily slot your week around your filming schedule, if you want that is.” She prodded the scallop with her fork trying a small piece.

“OK, I think I could do that.” He watched her screw her nose up. “Not a scallop fan?”

“No.” She put her fork down. “Sorry.”

“Do you want something else?”

She shook her head. “Just to see you eat all of them.”

He laughed. “Evil woman.”

“Aye, that’s me in a nutshell.” She scraped her three scallops onto Gabe’s plate.

“I might let you have one of my potatoes in exchange, but you’re not getting one of my floating islands.”

Dawn pouted. “Then I want the wafer that comes with your coffee at the end of the meal.”

“You drive a hard bargain.” But it was worth it to see her eyes light up. “Hang on. Aren’t I the one doing you the favor?”

She laughed. “Too late now.”

Gabe sighed. “Fine, you can have the wafer thing.” He kept the smile to himself. He never had liked wafer biscuits.

8

Gabe walked up the path, a bunch of roses in his hand. This time he’d chosen lavender ones. Mandy in the florist had teased him about becoming a regular customer and had taken great delight in pointing out that lavender meant love at first sight. This he already knew. He’d researched roses and colors on the Internet before leaving home and picked lavender deliberately.

He rang the bell. A vision in mint green stood before him. The satin dress clung in all the right places, and he swallowed hard. He’d never seen such a vision of beauty. Her dark skin glowed. The color of the dress suited her perfectly.

“You look amazing,” he said finally.

“Hi, yourself.” Her perfect smile made her glow even more if that were possible.

“Hi. I got you these.” He held out the roses.

Dawn took them and inhaled deeply. “Thank you, but you shouldn’t have. You bought me some yesterday.”

“I wanted to.” It was a pitiful excuse, he knew that, but he had this overwhelming desire to do things right and according to his research, flowers and dates went hand in hand.

“I’ll put them in water. Will you come in?”

“Just for a moment. We need to head off.”

Dawn looked past him, and her eyes widened as she saw the car. “A limo?”

“And driver,” he said. “But it does mean I avoid driving in London, which I hate doing with a passion.”

“I don’t blame you.” She headed into the kitchen and put the flowers in the same vase as the yellow roses from the day before.

Gabe followed in her wake and stood behind her, admiring her figure and the way the dress flowed around her as she moved. He brushed his fingers across the back of her neck tucking in the label that was sticking up. Her skin was soft and smelled of shower crème and perfume.

She wriggled her shoulders. “That tickles.”

“Sorry. Your label was showing. You look lovely.”

She smiled. “Thank you. I didn’t know what to wear. I’ve never done anything like this before. A friend recommended this dress and where to get it.”

“Your friend has very good taste.” His hands paused a moment. “You bought the dress especially for the premiere?”

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