Working Overtime

Never in all the years she worked with Gabriel did she anticipate falling in love with him. She had been so determined to keep their relationship purely professional and then, out of the blue, she developed feelings for him.  She blamed it on all those nights they worked together on different projects.  He was so disarmingly attractive.

Tonight, she was a bit uneasy.  She wished she could come up with an excuse not to be there.  She dreaded being alone with him.  Unfortunately, they had a finite amount of time to work on this project so they had to get started on it now.

Just then, he walked into the boardroom.  “I hope you don’t mind, but I ordered takeout,” he announced.

She busied herself with the files and papers so that she wouldn’t have to look at him.  “I’m not hungry,” she said.

“You can’t work on an empty stomach.” He came and stood in front of her, forcing her to look at him.  “Do you have a problem being alone with me?” He asked suddenly, making her blink.

“Why would I have a problem being alone with you?” she asked, wondering how he could have guessed that.  Was she so transparent?

“You tell me.”

“There’s nothing to tell.”  She pressed against the edge of the table, her eyes wary.

He was standing really close now and her heart and pulse were racing.  She swallowed hard, riveted by the expression on his face and the color of his eyes.  His gaze dropped to her lips.  For an emotionally charged moment they stood there, close to each other and dangerously close to stepping over the line when she broke the spell by turning away abruptly.

“We have lots of work to do,” she muttered. “We need to get started.”

“Okay,” he conceded and moved away.  They sat down at the table and began to work.

The take out arrived about half-hour later and they ate as they worked.  It was after nine when they finally finished the project.  Gabriel got up and stretched while she gathered the papers together.  He looked at her.  “Would you like to grab some coffee?” he asked.

“No, thanks,” she quickly refused. She started when he got up and went over to her.  She held the files in front of her as if to protect herself.

“Are you going to meet him after you leave here?”

“Who?”

“That character I saw you with yesterday.”

She racked her brain, trying to figure out whom he was talking about when she remembered that she had gone out to lunch with David.  Gabriel had seen her leave and he was in the reception area when she returned an hour and half later.  He hadn’t looked at all pleased.  Much like now.  “You mean David.”

“Yes,” he snapped. “Is he the reason why you won’t go for a coffee with me?”

She stared at him in surprise.  He looked and sounded furious.  There was a glint in his eyes.  Was he jealous of David?  “David is my friend from college.  He invited me to lunch to celebrate his engagement.  He and his fiancee are getting married in June.”

He raked his hands through his hair, his eyes troubled as they met hers.  “I’m sorry for my outburst,” he muttered.  “I thought he was the reason for your behavior towards me.  Lately, you have been acting as if you don’t want to be alone with me.  If he isn’t the reason, what is?

She could tell him that he was mistaken or come clean.  Instead, she asked him a question.  “Gabriel, were you jealous just now when you thought that I was in a relationship with David?”

“Yes,” he admitted.  “I was insanely jealous.”

Her heart was thudding now.  “Why?”

His eyes were dark and stormy now as he moved closer to her.  “Why?  Because I’m in love with you.   I’ve been in love with you for a long time now but kept it to myself because  of our work relationship.   You always made it clear that it was strictly business between us.”

She took a step closer.  “Gabriel…”

“Do you have any feelings for me?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said.  “I tried so hard not to fall in love with you because we work together and I never wanted to get involved with someone I worked with but…” the rest of her words were hushed because he was kissing her.   The files she was holding fell on the floor as she wrapped her arms around his neck and surrendered to the feelings that she had bottled up inside.   For several minutes they exchanged frenzied kisses then she drew back, trying to catch her breath.  “It’s getting late,” she gasped.  “We should be going.”

He nodded, releasing her.  His face was flushed and his breathing was labored. “You’re right.”  He bent down and picked up the files after placing the scattered papers in them.  He handed the files to her.  “We have an early day tomorrow.”

As she took the files from him, his fingers caressed hers.  She exhaled her breath shakily.  “Do you think it will be awkward working together now?”

“It doesn’t have to be,” he said.

She smiled.  “Good.”  She grabbed her handbag and they left the boardroom.  He walked her to her car.  She reached up and kissed him.  It felt so good doing that, so liberating.  “See you tomorrow,” she said when she pulled away.  She was about to climb into her car when he stopped her.

“Have dinner with me at my place tomorrow night,” he said softly.  “I will prepare my specialty.”

She laughed.  “Your specialty?”

“Yes.  Greek lemon chicken and potatoes.  Trust me, you will love it.  Come at six.”

“Sounds delicious.  I’ll bring the wine.”

He smiled and kissed her.  “Good night, Olivia.  Call me when you get home.  If there’s no answer, leave a message.”

“Good night, Gabriel.”  She climbed into the car.  She waved as she drove off.

She was tired but she knew that she wouldn’t fall asleep for a while.  Her thoughts would keep her awake for awhile.  She would be thinking about Gabriel, his declaration of love, his kisses and the home-cooked dinner he had planned for her tomorrow night. At work, it will be business as usual between them but outside of the office…she smiled at the thought.  Just then, Jill Scott’s song, “He loves me” played on the radio.

Source:  All Recipes

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Love at the Library

The moment he walked into the library, he had her attention.  She had seen him a couple of times before.  He would sit at a particular table and spend the next couple of hours reading the same book.  One evening when he left the table for a brief moment, she walked by on the pretense of going over to one of the bookshelves nearby.  She paused beside the table and looked down at the book.  It was a reprint of German Atrocities:  A Record of the Shameless Deeds.   She went back to her table  and sat down just minutes before he returned to his.

One evening when she went to the library he was already there.  She saw him look up and their eyes met before she turned and went over to the book shelf nearby. She skimmed through the shelves until she found the book she wanted.  She took it out and went over to a table.  She placed her handbag on the floor beside her and opened the book.  She tried to read it but couldn’t concentrate.  Unable to resist, she raised her eyes and was startled when she saw him staring at her.  He had removed his reading glasses and they dangled from his hand.

This was a critical moment.  Everything was banking on her response.  And there were two ways she could respond.   She could quickly look away which would give him the wrong message that she wasn’t interested or she could return his stare. Summoning up all the courage she had, she held his gaze.  Something told her to smile and she did.

It seemed that this was all the encouragement he needed.  He closed his book, put his glasses in his shirt pocket and got up from the table.

As she watched him approach, her heart began to pound.  He was so gorgeous.  She couldn’t believe that he was joining her.  All these weeks, she had watched him, daydreamed about him and now here he was standing in front of her with his hand extended.  He was smiling.  “Paolo Cinelli.”

She stared into his dark brown eyes as his fingers closed around hers in a firm handshake.  “Jessica Williams.”

He pulled out the chair opposite her and sat down, placing his book on the table.  He didn’t open it.  He was looking at her.  “For a long time I have wanted to come over and talk to you but you always seemed so engrossed in what you were doing.  I didn’t want to disturb you.”

She closed her book.  It was pointless keeping it open now.  “I didn’t think you noticed me,” she said.  “You were always so absorbed in this book.  Is it very interesting?”

He glanced down at it.  “It is.  I like to read books and watch documentaries about World War II.”

“I won’t mind borrowing it when you’re done with it.”

“You can, on one condition” he said.  “Have dinner with me tomorrow.”

She stared at him.  “So, this book belongs to you?”

“Yes.  I like to read it here in the library because it’s quiet and it gives me a chance to relax after a busy day.”

“I can understand that.”

“So, will you have dinner with me tomorrow?”

“Yes.”  She wrote down her address and number on a sheet of paper and gave it to him.

“I’ll pick you up at seven.”

The library was filling up now and a couple of people sat down at the table with them.  He leaned over and asked in a low voice, “Let’s go somewhere else where we can talk and enjoy the fresh air at the same time.”

“That’s a good idea.”  She got up and put the book back on the shelf.  She grabbed her handbag and they left the library.

It was a beautiful evening.  The sun was still high in the sky and there was a gentle breeze.  He turned to her, “Let’s grab something to eat and find a spot nearby. They stopped in a nearby fast food restaurant and got a couple of burgers and milkshakes. They retraced their steps back to the library and sat down at one of the tables outside to eat.

They spent the next few hours talking and getting to know each other.  The time went quickly and when it started to get dark, that was when they decided that it was time to go.  “May I give you a ride home?” he asked.

She nodded.  “Yes, thank you.”

“Thank you for a lovely evening,  Jessica,” he said.  “I had a good time.”

“Me too.”

“I am looking forward to our date tomorrow night.”

“Me too.”  She smiled as she fell into step beside him.   Yes, she was looking forward to their dinner date tomorrow.  What a glorious day this turned out to be.

 

 

Source:  British Library

A Failed Plan

The young ladies were all in a tizzy because Mr. Edmond McFadyen was joining them for dinner that evening.  Mr. Burrows had taken the liberty to extend the long overdue invitation when he had the pleasure of bumping into the young man at the gentlemen’s club that morning.

Ever since the McFadyens had moved into Grand Meadow Manor, Mrs. Burrows had pressed her husband to make their acquaintance.  They were invited to tea but Edmond was not present at the time, much to Mrs. Burrows’ consternation.   She urged Mr. Burrows to invite the young man to dinner and was beside herself with excitement when it was accepted graciously.

Mrs. Burrows clapped her hands in delight.  “Oh, girls,” she said to her daughters, Louise, Evelyn and Henrietta.  “Just think, one of you will win the affections of Edmond McFadyen.” Yes, it was her plan to secure one of her daughters for one of London’s most eligible bachelors.

The girls giggled.  “Oh, Mama,” Henrietta cried, “He is ever so handsome.  Which one of us do you think he will prefer?” she asked her sisters.

“Me,” said Louise.  “I’m the oldest and wisest.”

Evelyn pursed her lips.  “I’m the prettiest.”

Henrietta clucked.  “And I’m the youngest.”

They began to quarrel among themselves and Mrs. Burrows raised her hand.  “Girls, girls, stop fighting among yourselves,” she said.  “We will know soon enough this evening which of you Mr. McFadyen will favor.  Now, why don’t you run upstairs and sort out what you will wear. You must all look your very best, you know.”

“Yes, Mama,” they cried and bustled out of the room, leaving Mrs. Burrows alone with their cousin, Kay.

Kay sat by the fireplace reading a book.  She had listened to the commotion but had kept quiet.  Her aunt would not have welcomed any remark from her.  The older woman had never made her feel welcomed in her home.  And her cousins had always made her plain and inferior.  Only her uncle treated her kindly.  Many an evening they would sit in the library and have stimulating conversations.  He had intimated once that he wished his daughters were more like her.

She could feel her aunt’s gaze on her and she looked up.  The withering stare she received elicited a heavy sigh.  She closed her book.  “Perhaps, you would rather be alone, Aunt Mabel,” she said.  She was about to rise from the chair.

Her aunt waved her to remain seated.  “Don’t leave until I have said what I need to say to you,” she said.

“What is it, Aunt?”

“Don’t imagine for one moment that Mr. McFadyen would pay any attention to you. He is a gentleman.  You are not a gentleman’s daughter.  Your father was a shopkeeper.  I still don’t know what possessed my sister to marry him.”

Kay’s face suffused with color.  She tried to remain calm.  “My father may not have been a gentleman, Aunt, but he was a man of good character and my mother loved him.  As for Mr. McFadyen, I have no given no thought of him paying me any attention that is beyond what is customary.”

“You are not a pretty girl by any means, so I don’t suppose there’s any likelihood that the good gentleman would even notice you.”

Kay opened her mouth to respond to that unkind remark but decided that it was not worth dignifying.  “If you have no further requirements for me, Aunt, I shall excuse myself.”

Her aunt waved her away dismissively.  Getting up from the armchair, Kay made her exit.  Kay spent the rest of the afternoon in her room and when it was time to get ready for dinner, she did so half-heartedly.  She chose the pink gown that flattered her coloring and shape.  She pulled her hair back from her face in a French knot, allowing a few curls to fall across her forehead and brush against her cheeks.  She examined her reflection in the mirror and satisfied that she looked respectable, she left the room.

They were all in the drawing-room, including Mr. McFadyen who was surrounded, poor chap, by her excitable cousins.  All eyes turned in her direction when she entered the room and she felt her face go red.  How she wished she could return to her room.  She would be happier curled up on the bed, reading her book.  A tray could have been brought up.  Her eyes caught the sour expression on her Aunt’s face, the disdained glances of her cousins, the affectionate smile on her Uncle’s face before her gaze drifted to the guest of honor.

He was tall, very stately in appearance and quite handsome.  “This is our niece, Miss Forrester,” she heard her Uncle say.  Mr. McFadyen bowed and she curtsied.

The announcement that dinner was ready came just then and they all went in.  Mr. and Mrs. Burrows preceded the party.  Mr. McFadyen escorted Louise as she was the eldest; her sisters followed, looking rather cross and Kay brought up the rear.

She was seated at the opposite end of the table, as conceivably far from Mr. McFadyen as possible.  No doubt her Aunt’s doing.  Louise sat on his left and Evelyn on his right while Henrietta sat beside Evelyn, much to her displeasure.

However, the evening didn’t go as her Aunt hoped.  Her Uncle kept drawing Kay into the conversation when her Aunt and cousins seemed perfectly happy to ignore her. Mr. McFadyen seemed more interested in what she had to say than the frivolous chatter of her cousins. Kay found that she and Mr. McFadyen had a great deal in common.  They shared a love for History and the Arts.  He had done a great deal of travelling and she listened with rapt interest as he recounted some of his adventures.

The evening turned out to be rather pleasant for Mr. Burrows, Mr. McFadyen and Kay.  Before he left, Mr. McFadyen said to Kay, “Miss Forrester, would you do me the honor of accompanying me to the museum tomorrow?  There are some new Egyptian artifacts on display which I have no doubt you will find fascinating.”

She smiled.  “Thank you, Sir.  I would be delighted to accompany you.”

“I bid you goodnight, Miss Forrester,” he said with a smile and a bow.

“I bid you goodnight, Mr. McFadyen.”  She curtsied.

After he left, she was subjected to malevolent stares from her Aunt and cousins.  “Kay, you should be ashamed of yourself, monopolizing Mr. McFadyen’s attention like that,” Louise scolded her.  “If you weren’t there, he would have paid more attention to me.”

“All that dull talk about History and Art,” Henrietta complained.  “He’s as dull as you, Kay.”

“And what did he say to you just now before he left, might I ask?” demanded Evelyn.

“If you must know, he invited me to accompany him to the museum tomorrow.”

“What?” her Aunt was aghast.  She slumped against the chair, fanning herself with her handkerchief as if she were feeling faint.

Her Uncle chuckled.  “It seems as if Mr. McFadyen has taken a fancy to Kay.”

“A fancy, indeed!  It’s all your fault, Mr. Burrows.  If you had ignored her like the rest of us, Mr. McFadyen would have requested the company of one of our girls.”

“My Dear Lady, it was clear to me that the young gentleman was not at all interested in any of our girls.  Therefore, ignoring Kay would not have changed that fact.  Now, it’s late and I am going to retire.”

Kay thought it a good time to leave as well.  She knew if she stayed, she would be raked over the coals.  “I too must retire.  Goodnight, Uncle.”  She kissed him.  “Goodnight, Aunt, Louise, Evelyn and Henrietta.”  She didn’t wait for them to respond but hurried from the room.

As she ran up the stairs, she felt a deep satisfaction that her Aunt’s plan for Mr. McFadyen had failed.  He was a gentleman, indeed and deserving of a woman who was his equal, not in social status but in character.

 

Source:  Fantasy Name Generators

Providence

“Miss Johnson, to what do I owe the pleasure of this unexpected visit?” Lucius Suchet asked, his brown eyes studied her as she stood in the doorway.  “I’m astonished that you remember me considering that you didn’t so much as say a word to me last night.”

She ignored his remarks and marched over to the table where she tossed books, papers and pamphlets willy-nilly on the table.  She was about to turn around and leave when he caught her by the arm.  She tried to tug it away, glaring at him but his grip was too firm.  “Unhand me, Sir,” she ordered him.  “Remember that I am a Lady.”

His expression darkened.  “Yes, and I should remember that I am the son of a vicar,” he muttered.  “Yet, it was I who was invited to sit at the table and have dinner with your family when you were not.”

She blinked.  “I know that the color of my skin is the reason for this arrangement but it by no means suggests that I am not held in the highest regard by my family.  They are merely following convention however prejudicial it may be.  Now, please let go of my arm.  Perhaps Miss Foster might allow you to manhandle her but I won’t.” She tugged at her arm again and he released it.

His eyebrows arched.  “Miss Foster.  Why do you mention her?”

“I observed the two of you last night after dinner.  How she hung on your every word and how you showered her with your attention, no doubt filling her head with foolish notions–”

He laughed.  “My dear Miss Johnson, you are jealous.”  He seemed very pleased at the thought.

His remark and the expression on his face infuriated her.  “I am not jealous,” she retorted.  “To be jealous would imply that I have feelings for you, which I do not.”

He moved closer to her and she backed away, her eyes wary now.  “Look me in the eye and tell me that you don’t have feelings for me and I will pursue the matter no further.”

She glanced frantically at the door, longing to make her escape but he advanced toward her like a tiger while she backed away until she felt the wall behind her.  “Mr. Suchet, if you are indeed a gentleman as you would have me believe, you will permit me to leave right now.  The coach is waiting downstairs for me.  I must return home before my family begins to wonder where I am.”

He was standing very close to her now.  His eyes held hers like a trap holding a helpless bird.  “Tell me now that you don’t have any feelings for me,” he insisted.

Her eyes were wild now, with fear and something else which she hadn’t wanted him to see.  Her breath was quick and laborious and her heart was pounding.  She closed her eyes in defeat.  “I can’t” she admitted.

She felt his warm breath against her cheek.  “I have feelings for you too.  Feelings I have had ever since the first time I saw you.  I tried to fight them because was painfully aware of the difference in our stations but they are too strong.”

“What about Miss Foster?” she asked.  Seeing them together had filled her heart with such jealousy and pain that she had wanted to bolt from the room.  Instead, she had turned her attention to the gentleman who paid her some attention.

“There is nothing between Miss Foster and me, I assure you.  What about you and Mr. Wright.  I saw how receptive you were to his attentions.  I was mad with jealousy but propriety kept me in check.”

“It was the wish of my family that I should marry him as he was the only gentleman who would marry a woman of color.  I suspect that his reason for wanting to marry me had more to do with my fortune.”

“Is it your wish to marry him?” he asked anxiously.

She shook her head.  “No.  I turned him down and my family was not at all pleased. They fear that I shall die a spinster as there will be no more prospects of marriage for me.”

“Would you have a problem marrying the son of a vicar?”

“Are you asking me to marry you, Mr. Suchet?”

“Yes.”

“Then, my answer is yes.”  Her family would not approve of this match but she could not bring herself to marry for any other reason but for love.  And she loved Lucius Suchet, a man without fortune but a gentleman, nevertheless.

He swept her up into his arms and swung her around.  Then he bent his head and kissed her.  “I love you, Ivy,” he whispered when he drew back to gaze down into her upturned face.

“And I love you, Lucius.  I almost allowed pride and station to rob me of this happiness.”

“I believe that Providence had a hand to play in this,” he said.  “It is what gave me the courage to press you about your feelings for me.”

“I am thankful, then to Providence,” she said with a smile.  “It brought me to my senses.”

 

 

The Afternoon Tradition

As she drank her tea, she thought of her grandmother.

Grams would have turned 90 today.  How she missed her.

It was Grams who got her into the habit of drinking tea

in the afternoons.  She thought of the times when she

used to walk over to Grams’ house after school and sit

at the table and watched as she poured the hot tea into

two large cups.

 

Earl Grey was Gram’s favorite.  She had her reasons why.

And she loved to list them.  “It has many benefits, Steffi,” she

would say.  “It calms your nerves, improves your immune

system, helps your digestion, keeps you alert, which is good

for people my age,” she paused to chuckle at that remark

before she continued, “It boosts your metabolism, improves

your heart health, prevents cancer, keeps you hydrated and

protects your teeth.  And it tastes good.”

 

Stephanie had to agree.  Earl Grey had a fruity flavor and

didn’t taste as bitter or strong as the other types of black

tea.   So, it was over a cup of Earl Grey tea that she was

remembering her grandmother who passed away from

natural causes two years ago.

 

It was during those afternoon visits that Grams would

talk to her about the Bible.  The book of Proverbs was

her favorite.  “It has lots of good advice for all of us,

especially for young people.” And she would read

to her.

 

As Grams sipped her tea, Stephanie would talk to

her about school, growing up and boys.  She told her

about the annoying boy in school who was always pulling her

hair and doing things to upset her.  When Grams told her

that he did these silly things because he liked her,

she was shocked but Grams was right.  She was

always right.  She had so much wisdom.

“I get it from reading God’s Word,” she

said and “I ask Him for it too.”

 

Grams was the first one in her family

to meet the man she ended up marrying.

He was that same annoying boy from school.

Grams was  the first to hold their newborn

baby.  Sometimes she suspected that her

mother was a little jealous of the closeness

she had with her grandmother but Grams

never judged her or made her feel bad when

she made bad decisions but was always there

to encourage her.   It was Grams who had

faith in her when no one else did, including

herself.  And it was Grams who led her to

Jesus.

 

Their afternoon tea tradition lasted

through high school, college and even

after she got married.

 

She smiled as she sipped her tea.  Yes, she

missed her grandmother but she knew

she would see her again on the blessed

day when Jesus comes again.  Until then,

she would continue to enjoy a cup of

Earl Grey tea in the afternoons and

remember her beloved Grams.

 

woman-drinking-tea

 

Source:  Your Tea Headquarters

Florence

She sat at a small table outside of the local cafe set in the maze of

streets near Piazza Antinori.  One could get lost in Florence but won’t

mind at all.  It was a beautiful, bustling and exciting place.  There was

so much to see.

Around her mingled the sound of dishes cutlery, the clink of

glasses as people toasted each other and the voices and laughter

of tourists and locals alike.  She heard French, Spanish, English, Italian.

Whiffs of cappuccino, hot bread and pasta filled the air.  It was early

afternoon.  She had spent the morning visiting the Duomo and the

Antinori palace.  Now she was at this little cafe buzzing with locals,

and enjoying a glass of wine after having delicious Ravioli, drinking

in the friendly ambiance around her as she watched couples, friends,

students on summer break and the locals walk by.

This was her first time in Florence.  She loved it.  She loved the

cobbled streets, the history, the people and of course, the food.

She will definitely stop by this delightful cafe again and try their

Beef tagliata.  Hopefully, she would get a table inside.  Not that

she minded eating on the sidewalk.

This was her first trip alone.  Usually she traveled with her

Sister, June.  June got married a couple years ago and her life

was not wrapped up in her husband and their two children.

No plans for Travel any time soon.

She signed.  Being alone in a city like Florence wasn’t so bad.

She could get used to it.  She could just lose herself in the maze

of streets that now seemed to be beckoning her.

She finished her wine and grabbing her handbag, she

got up and headed to the nearest street.

 

This trip could be her own personal adventure.  Who knows….what

could happen in the city of love…

woman in Florence

Sources:  Tripadvisor; Antinori Palace