Love Beyond Words (City Lights, #1)(19)

It’s happening. It’s finally happening. Natalie took another deep breath, and the knot of pain in her gut relented to the sheer joy of seeing him. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“So am I.”

There was little to clean or tidy up; Natalie had the café dark and locked five minutes later. She threw on her coat and then she and Julian stepped out onto the street together.

Natalie inhaled deeply, feeling as if she’d just emerged from a stale, airless container, into the world. The chill wind was bracing and lovely. “Well?” Her smile split her face. “I think I would love to get out of this neighborhood. Can you stand to wait in the cold for a bus?”

“We could wait for a bus,” Julian said. “Or we could just take my car.”

A sleek black Mercedes sedan was parked at the curb.

“This is yours?” Natalie asked.

“It’s from a service.”

“Oh, well then I’m not as impressed.”

He laughed. “I don’t want you to be impressed; I want you to be warm.”

He opened the door for her and Natalie bent to get in, but stopped. “Wait! I forgot something. I’ll just be a minute.”

She fumbled her keys out of her purse, unlocked the gate, then raced up to her place. On the coffee table was a square package, wrapped in white paper. A smaller oblong box sat atop the first, also wrapped in white, and both tied together with a red ribbon.

Natalie reached for the presents but once in her hands, she hesitated. The three black and white composition books were more of a tease. The pen, however, had cost her a pretty penny at an antique shop. When she saw it, she realized she couldn’t leave the store without it; it was too perfect for him.

Now, with a luxury car waiting downstairs for her, the books seemed silly and the card…She flipped it open. Love, Natalie in her neat, slanted script. She bit her lip. It was too obvious. It was all wrong. Julian hadn’t even told her what he was writing and here she was giving him books and pens…

“You have nothing else,” she said aloud. Her words echoed hollowly in her empty apartment. She stuffed the package into her bag and raced back downstairs.

Julian was still standing outside, his breath pluming before him in the cold.

“Oh, gosh, you should have waited in the car,” she told him.

“What kind of brute do you take me for?” He grinned and opened the passenger door for her.

The seats were soft leather and she felt fading warmth emanating through the cotton of her dress as she sat down.

“Heated seats? Okay, I’m mildly impressed.”

He started the engine. “They’ll warm up more in a moment,” he said. “I’m a little unprepared. I didn’t plan anything...”

“You know what? I’m actually really hungry,” Natalie said. “I skipped lunch. What about you?”

Julian tapped the steering wheel. “I think I know a place that’s open.”

“Anything but a coffee shop.”





Chapter Nine


Julian navigated the car through light traffic from the Sunset District to the Financial. Natalie had remembered from one of their talks that he lived in this part of town. She watched him drive, biting back a smile. The car commercials are right, she thought. There’s something sexy about a man driving a stick shift. He pulled the car under an old-style electric sign that read Tadich Grill.

“Do you like seafood?” Julian asked, handing the car keys to the valet. “I think you mentioned you did once before.”

Natalie laughed. “You know I do. I have three obsessions: reading, numbers, and grilled halibut. In that order.”

He opened the front door for her and Natalie saw that the Tadich Grill was a “nice” restaurant. The kind where her father would have reminded her to put her napkin in her lap and keep her elbows off the table. They stepped up to a long, narrow bar, where a bartender in a white smock was polishing a glass and eyeing them as though they had barged into his home during dinner.

“Well?” the bartender demanded. “Bar or table?”

“Table,” Julian replied.

The man sighed as if they’d had a long-standing beef and pulled out two menus. “This way.”

“Do you know him?” Natalie whispered. “He seems upset with us. Is it the holiday…?”

“Nah.” Julian grinned. “He’s always like that.”

The surly man led them into the pleasantly dark confines of the restaurant. Cozy tables draped in white lined the walls. Delicious smells of fresh seafood and steak permeated the air, as did the muted conversations of a dozen or so patrons.

The bartender waited impatiently as Julian took Natalie’s coat and draped it across the back of her chair. Her lavender dress was simple and rather plain, she thought, but Julian was wearing only dark blue jeans and a gray long-sleeved shirt—albeit clearly expensive jeans and shirt. None of the other patrons appeared particularly dressed up, either. The bartender handed over the menus with a grunt and returned to his post.

“What a grouch.” Natalie laughed. “I like it. I like him. Suits this place.”

“I think so too.”

Her laughter died when she perused the menu and saw the prices. They weren’t outrageous, but far more than she could ever afford to spend. Some of the dishes, she noted, had no prices at all. She could hear her mother’s knowing tone. If you have to ask, you can’t afford it.