Twenty Wishes (Blossom Street #5)(28)
Rather than allow herself to sink into further depression, she reached for her phone and called Lillie. They arranged to meet for dinner at a Thai place they both liked.
That evening Lillie arrived at the restaurant before Anne Marie did and had already secured a table. “I’m so glad you phoned,” Lillie said, kissing her cheek. “I’ve got lots to tell you.”
“I can’t wait to hear.”
“It’s that list.”
“The Twenty Wishes?” Earlier, just reading her list had depressed her. She’d been convinced she’d never feel like dreaming again, not when she’d obviously been so wrong about her entire life.
“That list’s given me a whole new burst of energy,” Lillie said. “I’ve told my friends about it and now they’re all writing their own lists.”
“Really?”
“Lists are big these days. Who would’ve believed it?” Lillie’s eyes twinkled with merriment. “I’ve been adding to mine nearly every day, thinking about all the things I want to do. Things I haven’t considered in years. It all started when I bought that red convertible.”
“Speaking of which…”
Lillie waved the question aside even before Anne Marie could ask it. “Just a minor glitch and that nice man from the service department is taking care of everything.”
“You mean to say you’re still driving a loaner?”
“Yes, but it doesn’t matter. Everything’s under control and I haven’t been inconvenienced in the least.”
“You shouldn’t be inconvenienced. You bought their car!”
Lillie studied her menu. “I’m starved. How about you?”
Anne Marie needed to think about it, then realized she actually was hungry. “I am, too.”
“Great. The way I feel right now, I’m tempted to order everything on the menu. Let’s begin with the assorted appetizers, and then a green mango salad….”
“And pad thai. I love their pad thai,” Anne Marie said, entering into the spirit of the evening.
Between the perfectly spiced food and Lillie’s invigorating company, dinner was a welcome reprieve from the low-grade depression that had been hanging over Anne Marie. Back in her apartment a few hours later, she came across the binder and the scrapbooking supplies spread out on the kitchen table.
She sat down again and read over her list. Maybe her wishes weren’t so impossible, after all.
Chapter 8
Lillie Higgins paid extra-close attention to her makeup Friday morning, chastising herself as she did. Anyone who even suspected that she was preening and primping for the service department manager at a car dealership would be aghast.
Lillie had nothing to say in her defense. She just found Hector Silva appealing; he was kind and generous and unfailingly polite. He seemed so natural, while the men who usually set out to charm her came across as self-conscious, trying too hard to impress. Not Hector Silva. His work ethic, his dignity and decency…She couldn’t praise him enough.
They’d exchanged two brief conversations, and after each one Lillie had walked away feeling good. More than good, elated. She liked him—it was that simple—and she enjoyed talking to him. Both times she’d wished the conversations could’ve been longer.
Now that her car was repaired to Hector’s satisfaction, she didn’t have an excuse to chat with him anymore. So she’d decided to make the most of today’s encounter, which would likely be their last.
Lillie arrived at the dealership with the loaner at the precise time Hector had indicated. She wore a pink linen pantsuit with a silk floral scarf tied around her head. She’d struggled with that, not wanting to look like a babushka or some latter-day hippie, and she’d finally managed to arrange it in an attractive style. Desiree, the temperamental French hairdresser she and Jacqueline Donovan shared, had insisted that if Lillie was determined to drive a convertible, she take measures to protect her hair.
When Lillie pulled into the parking space outside the service area, Hector immediately stepped outside as if he’d been standing by the door, waiting for her.
“Good morning, Ms. Higgins,” he said with the slightest bow.
“Good morning, Mr. Silva.”
“Please call me Hector.”
“Only if you’ll call me Lillie. After everything we’ve been through with this car, I believe we’ve become friends, don’t you? And friends call each other by their first names.” Referring to him as a friend might be presumptuous, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself.
He grinned, and his dark eyes glinted with pleasure. “I feel the same way.” After the briefest of hesitations, he added, “Lillie.” She loved how he said her name, placing equal emphasis on each syllable. She’d never heard anyone draw it out like that. He made it sound…sensuous. Completely unlike the blunt “Lil” her husband used to call her.
“Your vehicle is ready.” He gestured toward the red convertible parked near the service area.
“Did you ever find out what the problem was?” she asked, although in truth she didn’t really care.
“As far as I can tell, the hydraulic hose had an air bubble in it. I worked on it myself and I had my best mechanic check it, too. He assures me the problem has been fixed. You shouldn’t have any steering troubles from now on.”