Love Beyond Words (City Lights, #1)(21)
“Yes,” she said, casting her gaze to her plate as the memory swam up at her. “I was sixteen. My dad let me drink a little bit of his margarita, which somehow turned into a lot of margarita, and the next thing I knew I was rolling under the table, laughing my head off. And my mom was pissed. She was still yelling at my dad all through my first hangover.” She smiled at the memory and then looked up to see Julian watching her with soft eyes. “Anyway,” she said, “this looks amazing. Shall we?”
“Yes, but I have one more question.”
Natalie twisted her napkin under her lap, bracing herself. She’d had too much wine to be talking this much about her parents. “What is it?”
“Why accounting?”
Natalie blinked. “What? Oh, why did I pick something so boring?”
“No,” he said. “Why did you pick something so solid and exact, when you are so fluid and luminous?”
Natalie felt his compliment wash over her like soft, warm water. “I…I’m not…”
“You are.” He was looking at her in a way that made her want to tell him everything, anything…
“Accounting is safe,” she answered when she’d found her voice. “The numbers don’t change. I mean, they can be moved around and manipulated. But four plus four will always equal eight, you know? They’re emotionless. After my parents…Well, I have my books to provide me with all the emotion I can take. I want a profession that will never, ever remind me of something I don’t want to be reminded of.” She heaved a breath. “So that’s the long answer. Short answer: I also enjoy it. Go figure.”
Julian’s smile was sad, warm, and brilliant all at once. He held up his wine glass. “To the socially-conscious nonprofit that will be lucky enough to find you walking through its doors in about six months.”
She raised her glass with his, struggling to find some pithy toast for him. She couldn’t think of one single thing but that he was absolutely beautiful, and that, for a wonder, she managed to keep to herself.
#
The lunch was exquisite, the wine perfect, and the conversation danced from one easy topic to another. After dessert Natalie felt giddy, and reached into her bag before she could talk herself out of it.
“Merry Christmas,” she said. Julian appeared genuinely touched. He opened the card and her stomach twisted. “Open the bigger one first,” she said, hoping to distract him, and wishing mightily that she had written Merry Christmas instead of Love, Natalie, but it was too late now. Julian smiled as he read it and she took a long swallow of water.
He opened the first gift and admired the composition books appreciatively. “I thought I might be short a book or two. Thank you.”
“Um, sure,” she said, and watched him open the antique fountain pen, her heart in her throat.
He said nothing but turned it over in his hand. Its warm wood gleamed, and the pewter nib, with delicate art deco etchings, glowed in the candlelight.
Natalie cleared her throat. “The clerk told me it once belonged to John Steinbeck, but I’m sure that’s not true.”
“It’s beautiful,” Julian told her. His eyes were like blue velvet in the dimness. “It’s perfect. Again, thank you.”
She eased a sigh of relief and then choked a second later as he pulled a flat, rectangular box out of his jacket pocket and held it out to her wordlessly.
“As if this wasn’t enough?” she said, indicating the restaurant.
“You need something to open.”
She took the gift quickly, so he wouldn’t see her hands tremble, and opened the delicate wrapping and the box inside. A gold micro mosaic pendant lay against the black velvet. A willow tree in pale jade swayed over a lapis lakeshore. Mother of pearl and garnet accents decorated the edges. The chain was long and also gold. A lot of very real gold.
“Julian…” she breathed.
“Do you like it?” He toyed with this dessert fork. “I saw it and thought it suited you. If you don’t like it, I can take it back…”
“Oh, hush.” She slipped it over her neck. The pendant lay beautifully against her blouse. “It’s just stunning. Thank you.”
He started to smile and then frowned. “There was a card…” He fished around in his jacket pocket. “It’s a little late now…”
Natalie held out her hand, eyebrows raised.
Julian laughed shortly and gave it to her, looking away as she read it.
Merry Christmas and Happy Hanukkah, it read, and Natalie felt that soft water warmth all over again. Love, Julian
#
He parked in front of her building, shut off the engine, and then sat with both hands gripping the steering wheel. Natalie curled toward him, warmed and drowsy by the heat emanating from the leather seats, and more than a little tipsy from the wine. The day’s sublimity was making her bold; she had a sudden image of standing before him in her apartment wearing nothing but the Victorian pendant. Her skin flushed hotly at the thought. She’d never felt this way before, could never have imagined feeling this way about anyone. But not even her ingrained shyness could stop her from reaching out and taking Julian’s hand in hers.
It surprised him, she saw, and he turned in his seat to look at her, to watch her hold his hand in both of hers. His eyes were full of warmth and longing. He leaned closer and the nearness of him was more intoxicating than any wine. The scent of his skin and his cologne, the warmth of his breath…She even savored the scent of his fine clothing that smelled new and clean. And his eyes…the blue of his eyes was a tropical sea and she fell into them, became submerged in their depths.