To My Senses The Nicci Beauvoir Series Book 1 (27 page)

“
She has very difficult
taste. I never know what to get her,” he confessed, as we walked
into yet another gift shop.

“
So you told me, three
stores ago.”

He gaped around the store
and sighed. “I don’t know what to do.”

“
Maybe a push-up bra,” I
suggested under my breath.

He howled with laughter.
“After four kids, I don’t think she has anything left to push
up.”

It was my turn to laugh.
“Any more boys like you at home?”

“
No, the rest are girls.
I’m the only son.” He picked up a small figurine of a fluffy white
dog, begging on its hind legs.

As I stood behind him, I
noticed how he moved down the store aisle. “That must put quite a
lot of pressure on you.”

“
At times. My mother is hot
for grandchildren and she thinks now that I’m thirty-three, I
should be married with kids. Her idea of a successful life is a
Mercedes in the garage, a large house, a doting spouse, and two
kids in private school.”

“
I have an aunt like that.
You met her at the wedding. She thinks life begins and ends with
who you marry.”

I observed his hands as
they glided from one fine porcelain piece to another. He had thick,
almost clumsy-looking hands, but they were oddly
graceful.

“
What does your father
think?” I pursued.

“
Whatever my mother wants
him to think,” he snickered. “My father has learned to survive in a
house dominated by women by going with the flow. Sort of like me.”
He smiled warmly for me.

He did have a nice smile.
Several women had stopped to look at him, as we made our way around
the mall.

“
What about your sisters?
Have they each married the right man with the right two car
garage?”

“
No, only one was married.
Now she’s divorced with the two kids and struggling to hold onto
the house. My other two sisters are in school. Kathy is going to be
an attorney, and Leanne is studying marketing at LSU.” He picked up
a small gold broach and turned it over in his hands. “I think she
would like this,” he stated.

“
I’m sure she
would.”

“
Yes, well I don’t think I
can spare any more time away from the office.” He checked his gold
watch. “I’ve got a patient scheduled in ten minutes.” He raised his
eyes to me. “And I think I’ve dragged you into just about every
store in the mall.”

“
That’s all right. I’ve
found almost everything on my list.” I reassured, holding up my
shopping bags.

Secure in his decision, he brought the
broach to the counter and asked to have it wrapped. Then he walked
back to me.

“
Thank you. You’re my
savior.”

“
You had better get back,”
I commented.

“
I can’t go until I ask you
something.” He looked around the shop, trying not to be overheard.
“Would you have dinner with me Friday night?”

My stomach fluttered. Was I
to be thrown back into the brutal world of dating so soon after my
realization? I thought at least I would get a cordial phone call
and then the formal request for a date. This way, I didn’t even
have the opportunity to give him the wrong number.

“
Yes. I would like that,” I
answered before I could say no.

I had wanted to say no, but
something inside of me struggled with the word. It was time to
start over and I knew the best way to forget about one man was to
find another. As I looked over the stocky figure of Michael Fagles,
I knew there was no danger of me falling in love with the odd man.
I was sure that I was safe. What harm could come of it?

***

Once home from the mall, I
carried my shopping bags into the living room. There, I found my
father, standing on a ladder in front of the fireplace, and hanging
the framed portrait David had painted of me above the mantle. I
walked up behind him and stood silently taking in his efforts.
There were still moments when David’s memory would ensnare me and
cloud my thoughts, but those moments were fewer and receding more
with every passing day.

“
You had it framed,” I
remarked.

Dad turned to face me and
almost toppled from the small ladder. “I didn’t hear you come in.
Did you get your shopping done?” He climbed down and kissed my
cheek.

I held up the bags in my
hands. “I amazed myself and got something for everyone on my list
in one trip.” I gestured to the portrait. “Care to
explain?”

“
I hope you don’t mind. I
had it framed right after you brought it home. I wanted to put it
in a place of honor. It is really a wonderful likeness.”

“
No, I don’t mind. It
doesn’t hurt as much to look at it anymore.”

I marveled at the way the
panting filled the room with color. It was a commanding energy in a
room of ordinary things. I never appreciated David’s talent more
than at that instant. He had caught the essence of me, the life
force inside of me. A force I felt he had also taken with him. It
was strange to despise the man, yet revere the artist.

“
I have a date Friday
night,” I proclaimed.

My father nearly dropped
his hammer. “You heal quick.”

“
It’s someone you know.
Michael Fagles. I saw him at the mall. We spent some time shopping
and talking, and he asked me out.”

He nodded his head. “Good.
I think that’s exactly what you need right now. Just don’t jump
into something else too quickly. I know you like to think you’re
tough, but give yourself a little more time. Promise?”

“
It’s just one date, Dad.
We’re not getting married.”

“
That’s good. I don’t think
I could take another wedding.”

I chuckled. “That makes two
of us.”

Chapter 16

At seven o’clock on Friday
evening, I was pacing the hardwood floors of my living room,
waiting for Michael. As I glanced from the gold clock on the mantle
to my portrait hanging above, I kept vacillating between my
feelings of guilt and anger. Was this the right thing to do? Was I
ready to date again?

Michael had called earlier
that morning to tell me he had planned a lavish night on the town
for us.

“
I’ve got the entire
evening worked out,” he had told me over the phone. “I thought
first we could have a romantic dinner at Antoine’s and then perhaps
a walk in the Quarter.”

“
You have been busy,
haven’t you?” I had responded, trying not to give away my
disappointment.

Men who spoke of romance
were usually more interested in romancing you straight into bed,
rather than getting to know you. They were the same kind of men who
would take you to a cheap restaurant on the night of the date, and
then spend fifty dollars sending you a dozen red roses the day
after.

“
We don’t have to spend the
evening that way.” He had sounded hurt. “I just thought…I wanted to
make it memorable.”

“
I’m sorry. I didn’t mean
to be flippant. I’m pleased you have taken the time to plan such a
nice evening.” At least I had tried to sound sincere.

“
Not to worry,” he had
returned. “I’ll pick you up at seven-thirty.”

So there I stood in the
living room, counting down the minutes on the ornate gold clock
until our date began. I was nervous, not so much about my date, but
about how my date with Michael would affect my feelings for David.
If the evening turned out to be a disaster—which Vegas odds
favored—then I would be even more inclined to pine after the man
who had broken my heart. If I actually enjoyed myself with the
confidant Dr. Fagles, then I could, perhaps, learn to forget about
David.

My father entered the
living room and sat down on the sofa. “When does the quack
arrive?”

I glared at him, wary of
his intentions. “Why?”

“
I would like to meet him
again.”

I shook my head, knowing
trouble was ahead for my date. “Please, Dad, not tonight. I know
that look.”

“
What look?” My father
scrutinized the conservative wool dress I had selected for the
evening. “Going to try out for a church choir later on this
evening?”

I scowled at him. I was
well aware of my father’s tactics. He would lull me into a false
security and then attack my poor date. He had frightened away many
a boy with threats of shallow graves and Uncle Lance’s Mafia
connections.

The doorbell thankfully
interrupted us. Michael was ten minutes early.

“
Behave,” I ordered,
turning for the front door.

Michael was dressed in a
form-fitting gray suit that flattered his blue eyes. He was better
looking than I remembered, but he had put on way too much cologne.
We would have to drive with the windows down.

I motioned to my father,
hovering close by. “Michael, you remember my father, Bill
Beauvoir.”

Dad shook his hand and
immediately shot me a dirty look. “Hello, Dr. Fagles. It’s a
pleasure to see you again. I’m glad you and my Nicole have a chance
to get acquainted.”

I choked back my laugh. Dad
only called me Nicole when his fatherly instincts went into
overdrive.

Michael wasn’t paying
attention. He was distracted by something in the living room. I
followed his eyes to the portrait above the fireplace.

“
What a wonderful
painting,” he remarked.

“
Yes.” My father beamed
proudly at the portrait. “It’s a real beauty, isn’t it?”

I rolled my eyes at my
father. “Come on, Michael, we had better get going. Dad….” I left
the sentence unfinished.

“
You two have fun,” my
father said, following us to the door.

When I reached into the
entrance hall closet for my coat, my father came from behind to
help me. He leaned in close to me, and whispered, “Don’t marry that
one. You’ll have ugly children.”

“
Thanks. Where were you
when I needed you over a month ago?” I muttered back.

“
I would have liked having
a spy for a son-in-law.”

As quickly as I could, I
urged Michael out the front door and into the chilly evening
air.

“
You look very pretty
tonight,” he commented, as we were buckling up his red Porsche.
“Not like some other women who wear way too much makeup and tight
dresses.”

“
Thank you,
Michael.”

“
You would be amazed at
some of the things women have worn on dates with me. I’m more
conservative myself. I like a woman who doesn’t dress to flaunt her
assets.”

“
Somehow I knew you would
say that.”

***

The conversation at dinner
was strictly medical. I must admit, it was refreshing to converse
with someone who was knowledgeable about all the medical
terminology I had spent so long learning.

“
Unlike most psychiatrists
out there, I have an uncanny knack for being able to isolate any
set of symptoms and make a very accurate diagnosis,” Michael
bragged, between mouthfuls of crawfish pasta.

“
You haven’t won the Nobel
Prize for that yet? Amazing.”

He snickered at me. “You
have a wicked wit.”

I picked at my grilled
shrimp. “I use it to slice my dates down to size.”

“
I was worried about you
after the wedding, Nicci. You seemed to be in such a state of shock
about the entire affair. I know it was the wedding from hell, but
you seemed to take it very hard.” He suspiciously cocked one
eyebrow.

“
I received some
distressing news in addition to all the antics at the wedding. I
guess everything got to me at once. It was very kind of you to stay
and help me.”

“
I was hoping we would have
a chance to talk that night. I could see that you weren’t well, but
it’s all over now, right?”

“
Yes, I’m fine now.” I
caught sight of our waiter coming toward us, and I signaled to him.
“Can we have a bottle of wine?”

The waiter smiled blandly.
“We have a very nice house chardonnay.”

“
I prefer a bottle of
Pouilly-Fuisse,” I stated, confidently.

After the waiter had gone,
Michael turned to me. “I’m impressed. Where did you learn so much
about wine?”

“
Alcoholics
Anonymous.”

Michael laughed, thoroughly
amused. “You’re going to be very difficult to handle, I can
tell.”

I did not say anything. I
was sure I didn’t want to be handled by the likes of Michael
Fagles. This was just a date, after all, not the beginning of a
relationship.

***

After our meal, we sat at
the table while I finished off the bottle of wine. The conversation
was not as strained as before, and I started to feel more
relaxed.

Michael kept talking about
a subject I was beginning to suspect he loved more than anything
…himself.

“
I love watching the sun
come up in the morning and eating beignets. I have often felt the
most peaceful time of the day was just at daybreak. I remember many
a morning coming off call and walking outside to see the sunrise. I
never knew how much I loved mornings until I went to medical
school.”