Dreams of Perfection (Dreams Come True) (8 page)

Chapter 14

The following Friday, Josh wandered the aisles of the corner grocer, mindlessly tossing items into his basket, still mulling over the enigmatic Blake Garrett, when his phone vibrated in his pocket and Queen began singing all about best friends.  

“Hi, Darcy.”

“Are we going to the Yankee Tavern for the Sox game tomorrow?”

“No, I’m having my peeps over.” He dropped a jar of salsa into the basket.

“Am I one of your peeps?”

“You know it.”

“Do you mind if I bring Blake?”

Josh cringed then realized this would give him a chance to put his cross-examination skills to good use. “No. Of course not. The more the merrier. Oh, and hey, can you bring your special pigs in a blanket? With the spicy mustard sauce?”

Darcy sighed. “Is that the only reason you’re inviting me?”

“Well, not the
only
reason.” Josh switched ears, readjusting his ever-growing basket of food. “What have you and God incarnate been up to lately?” As soon as the question left his mouth, he knew he didn’t want to know.

“Josh, if you’re going to be rude to him tomorrow, then never mind.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry. What have you and Dr. Perfect been up to?”

“He’s been out of the country for the past week, but last Saturday night we went to the Gansevoort for dinner and then up to the roof for drinks.” 

“Oh. Sounds nice.” Josh added a bottle of aspirin to the basket to avert a developing headache.

“Tonight we’re going to a Broadway Show—
The Book of Mormon.
”

“That show’s sold out until like the next millennium.” Josh had been trying to get tickets, and even his friend, Antoine, a concierge at the Plaza with major connections to the Broadway scene, hadn’t been able to get tickets. 

“I know! I’m so excited.”

Josh’s headache began to throb. “That’s great. Listen, Darcy, I’m juggling a basket full of groceries, so I’ll see you tomorrow about three.”

“Okay. See you.”

Maybe he’d pop a couple of those aspirins now.

Josh watched as Darcy staggered
into his apartment lugging a tray of foil-covered pigs in a blanket, huffing from the exertion of her four-flight climb. “You have no idea the trouble I had hailing a cab with an armload of sausage. Next time I’m making them here.”

She pushed past him and into the kitchen, blowing her bangs off her forehead and leaving the tantalizing aroma of Italian sausage and flaky phyllo crust in her wake.

Josh thought she looked so cute in her blue jeans and Yankees jersey, her hair pulled back into a ponytail with pieces escaping around her face.

“Where’s the good doctor?”

Darcy made a face and waved her hand in dismissal. “Some excuse about having to save some guy’s life. You know, same ole, same ole.”

Josh laughed and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, people and their inconvenient life-threatening injuries.” Although he wondered if Blake really saved lives, or if he just pretended to, the confirmatory report of his apparent stellar education notwithstanding.

“How was the show?”

“Oh, it was hilarious! I really wish you could have seen it.”

Yeah, me, too, Josh thought, but without the good doctor.

“Where is everyone?”

“Oh, they’ll be here soon.” Josh scanned his messy kitchen. He should have stuck to the chips and dip, but he’d tried to put some other snacks together, and it kind of got out of hand. He never had parties at his apartment, unless you counted the occasional poker game with the guys, and they weren’t picky. A few subs and some cold beer was generally enough to make them happy.

“Let me guess, you wanted me here early to make a plausible menu out of all this . . .” She picked up a jar of roasted red peppers and another of chocolate sauce “stuff.”

Josh shrugged. “I guess I got a little carried away at the store yesterday.”

“A little?”

Josh watched Darcy move efficiently around his galley kitchen as if it were her own, pulling down plates and bowls, some he didn’t even remember he had. It may as well have been her own, since Darcy and his mom had furnished it. There were utensils in the drawer whose purpose eluded him. This is what it would be like if they were a couple, Josh thought, Darcy in the kitchen making order out of chaos.

“So why go to all the trouble with the food? It’s just the usual crowd, right?”

“Well, Martin is bringing his fiancée, and I didn’t want her to think I’m some sort of rube.” In truth, he wanted to show Darcy he could be just as sophisticated as Garrett.

Darcy began plating the food in compatible combinations. The roasted red peppers joined the pickled green beans he’d also bought, along with the carrot sticks, olives, and celery he had on hand to make a nice a vegetable platter. Poking around in the refrigerator, she found some hummus and spooned it into a bowl and placed it in the center of the platter. “
Voila
!”

Josh plucked an olive off the tray and popped it into Darcy’s mouth.

Munching on the olive, Darcy turned to raid the fridge again. “Ah! Strawberries. Perfect. Wash them and pat them dry, while I get the grapes out of the fridge and we can put together a cheese platter.” Digging around in the cupboards, she pulled out a cheese board. “This looks as if it’s never been used.”

“It was a gift.” Josh shrugged. “I think I have a cheddar in the fridge that came from a gift basket.” Josh watched as Darcy opened the box of crackers he’d set on the counter and spread them on the cheese board.

“Now, put the strawberries on this plate, and pour the chocolate sauce into a bowl. Who doesn’t love strawberries dipped in chocolate?” Her eyes sparkled with enthusiasm as she bit into the juicy chocolate-covered strawberry she’d snagged.

He touched her arm. “Thanks, Darcy, this is great, really.” The temptation to kiss the chocolate from her lips tested his resolve. He held her gaze a moment before the intercom buzzed, breaking the spell.

What was that?
Darcy wondered. She thought for a moment Josh had wanted to kiss her. And she’d wanted him to.

Pfft.

Josh reached over and pressed the button, “Yeah?”

“Hey, man, it’s Chris and Mark.”

“Come on up.”

Josh walked over to open his apartment door a crack before rejoining Darcy in the kitchen.

“Help me carry some things out,” she instructed.

He grabbed the veggie tray and followed her to the living room, where she cleared away magazines and other clutter from the coffee table.

By the time the guys got to the door, a substantial spread greeted them.

“Brought some beer.” Chris proudly held up a six-pack of what must have been on sale. “Whoa! Did you invite the Mayor or something?” he asked, taking in the smorgasbord.

“No. I just thought it’d be nice to have some
good
food for a change,” Josh said with a hint of defensiveness.

“Are those strawberries . . . and chocolate?” Mark reached over for a strawberry just as Darcy smacked his hand.

“Wait for the other guests.”

“Hey! That hurt.”

“It wasn’t meant to tickle.” She adjusted the strawberries on the platter.

“Heard from Paige?” Mark asked as he rubbed his offended hand.

“Who’s Paige?” Darcy asked.

“A lovely little Southern Belle who picked Josh up the other night.”

“Oh really?” Darcy raised a questioning
brow in Josh’s direction, surprised that he was seeing someone and hadn’t told her. She pointedly ignored the hollow ache in her stomach at the thought of Josh and a girl.
Hunger pangs
. 

“Yeah, but she’s gone back to Alabama.”

Mark began an off-key rendition of “Sweet Home Alabama.”

The intercom buzzed again and Josh announced that Martin and Cindy were on the way up, effectively ending the Paige discussion.

“Laura’s coming over later,” Darcy warned.

“Since when does she like baseball?” Josh turned a jaundiced eye on Darcy.

“She doesn’t, but she just broke it off with Ewan, and she’s a little down, so I didn’t want her to be alone.”

“That’s a new one. A shark who feels remorse for killing the meal it just ate.”

Darcy punched Josh’s arm. “Don’t be mean.”

Cindy and Martin came in and after the introductions were made, the party began in earnest with the first pitch from the Red Sox and everyone settled in to nosh and cheer on the “Bronx Bombers.”

The Yanks were down by three in the bottom of the second, but no one seemed to mind as plates were filled again and again.

Chris, his plate piled high with goodies, said, “Okay Josh, I know you didn’t pull this together, so I’m guessing we have Darcy to thank for this gastronomical feast.” He held up one of Darcy’s gourmet pigs in a blanket smothered with spicy mustard sauce.

Insulted, Josh shot back, “Hey, I did
buy
most of the food.”

Mark reached for another strawberry, liberally dunking it in the chocolate, before popping it into his mouth. “I could get used to this. Thanks, Darcy.”

“Don’t expect this spread for the next poker game,” Josh informed them as the intercom buzzed. “That’ll be the great white huntress.” He pressed the button. “Come on up.”

One ball and two strikes later, Josh looked up from the game as Laura sauntered in. “Is it me, or is it getting colder in here?”

“Shark.”

“Man-eater.”

Darcy rolled her eyes at what had become the standard form of greeting between Josh and Laura. Even though Laura chaired the marketing committee for Josh’s fundraising gala, they otherwise only tolerated one another’s presence for her sake. She wondered how they managed to get anything done for the gala.

“Why won’t sharks attack lawyers?” Laura directed the question at Josh.

“Professional courtesy,” Josh replied blandly, never taking his eyes off the screen.

Laura muttered a curse and dropped down onto the sofa next to Darcy.

The rest of the gang was used to it, but poor Cindy appeared confused. Darcy would explain it to her later. They were also used to Laura’s tendency to overdress for occasions.

This time she wore a pair of snug black pedal pushers, a turquoise halter top, and a bright pink pair of spike-heel platforms, accessorized with some bold jewelry . . . along with her hard-to-miss black hand brace. Her blond hair was pulled back into a sleek ponytail. She looked fabulous.

“Flip-off any cab drivers lately?” Josh asked, eyeing her brace and chuckling.

Laura gestured to Josh with the aforementioned injured digit before leveling an accusatory glare on Darcy. “You just
had
to tell him, didn’t you?”

Darcy lifted a shoulder in response. “Oh come on. You have to admit now that it was pretty funny.” 

“No, I really don’t,” Laura muttered.

Darcy laughed and, draping an arm over her best friend’s shoulder, asked, “Aren’t you glad you came?”

Chapter 15

At the seventh-inning stretch, with the Yankees up by two, Josh muted the TV and everyone stood to sing “Take Me Out To The Ball Game” while Laura looked on as if she’d just entered
The Twilight Zone
. “You people really need to get a life.”

In the end, the Yankees lost by one, but everyone’s spirits were high as they took their leave.

“Man,” Mark said as he rubbed his flat stomach. “That should hold me for at least another couple hours. Do this again for tomorrow’s game?” he asked Josh, hopeful.

“Can’t. Got to go into the office and work on the McMillan case.”

Chris draped an arm around Darcy’s shoulders. “Any time you need another best friend, I’m available.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Darcy replied as she politely removed Chris’ hand from her shoulder.

Martin took Josh aside. “Cindy was impressed. She thinks you’re some sort of gourmand. Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me.” He slapped Josh on the back before grabbing Cindy’s hand. “Let’s go.”

Cindy smiled and waved at everyone. “See you at the shower.” Cindy had invited Darcy and Laura to her bridal shower next month, and the wedding the month after that.

Laura brought up the rear. “Well, that’s two hours of my life I’ll never get back.”

“Yeah, that’s too bad. Your clients probably say the same thing.”

Laura stuck her tongue out at Josh.

“No thanks. Don’t know where that tongue’s been.”

“You leaving?” Laura asked Darcy, giving Josh the evil eye.

“No, I’ll help clean up. I’ll call you later.” She kissed Laura’s cheek before closing the door quietly behind her.

Josh and Darcy worked companionably, putting away the leftovers—what little there was—washing the dishes, and wiping down his microscopic counters.

He’d just decided to ask her if she’d like to hit the batting cage with him, when her phone signaled an incoming text.

Snatching it up, she said, “It’s from Blake. He said the surgery went well and the guy is stable.” She texted something back, a soft smile triggering the dimple in her cheek.

Josh’s chest tightened. Would she ever look at him like that?

Momentarily her phone chimed again and her face split into a big grin as she read the message. “He wants me to meet him at Annisa. My God, I must look a fright. Gotta go, Josh. I had fun. We should do this for away games more often. My place next time.” She grabbed her purse. “I’ll pick up my platter later.” She bussed his cheek. “See ya.”

“Yeah. See ya,” Josh muttered to the now-closed door.

Darcy stepped out of the ca
b in the West Village where Blake said to meet him. She’d dashed home, and with no time to redo her hair, she’d pulled it back in a messy-chic twist, swiped on some makeup, grabbed a slinky little black dress out of her closet, and pulled on some strappy sandals. A spritz of perfume, and she was out the door in record time.

After paying the driver, she looked around for Blake, but Dr. Perfect was nowhere in sight. She glanced at her watch and frowned. Maybe she’d gotten the time wrong. Just as she’d made up her mind to check inside the restaurant, a sultry voice stopped her.

“Your date should be shot for keeping you waiting.” Blake stood, hands in his pants pockets, a smoldering heat in his eyes.

“Perhaps, but he’s a brilliant surgeon and I wouldn’t want to rob the world of his life-saving skills.” She lifted a shoulder. “That would just be selfish.” She gave him the once-over, and liked what she saw. Navy slacks, white dress shirt, no tie. A man who was comfortable in his skin and his clothes.

“Then, by all means, let him live, if only to see you in that dress.” Blake approached her, circled her like a shark circling its meal, and gave a soft whistle. “That’s some dress.”

He grazed his fingertips down her bare back, raising goosebumps on her flesh.

“Oh, you know,” she tittered nervously, “just a little something I threw on.”
Literally.

He pulled her into his arms and kissed her. “I’ve been thinking about you all day. Sorry I missed the party.”

Party? What party? Oh yeah. Yankees. Baseball.
“It’s okay. You were busy saving lives. How is he?”

“He’s got a long road ahead of him.”

“Better that than a dead end.”

“No argument there. Shall we eat or would you like to take a walk first?”

Thinking of all the food she’d indulged in this afternoon, she requested the walk first.

Blake placed her hand in the crook of his arm, and headed in the direction of Hudson River Park. The tree-lined streets of the West Village, with their quaint brownstones and loft apartments, almost made you forget you were in New York. Residents strolled the sidewalks, some walking dogs, others with kids in tow. It was one of Darcy’s favorite spots, aside from her own Park Slope, of course.

“Should we take up where we left off, Darcy Butler, college girl?”

Darcy giggled. “How about we talk about Blake Garrett, college boy? I bet you were cute in your Harvard tie.”
Whoops!
She knew the minute she said it, she’d slipped.

He pulled back. “How’d you know I went to Harvard?”

“You seemed like a Harvard man, I guess.”

“Good guess.”

“You bet.” Breathing a sigh of relief for having covered her flub, she continued. “Did you play sports?” Of course he did. Crew and lacrosse, as any self-respecting Crimson would.

“Crewed and played lacrosse.”

“What else did you do for fun?”

“The usual college activities. Sports, women, and beer.” He shot a glance her way.

“What about baseball?”

“What about it?”

“Did you go to any games while you were in Boston?” A terrible thought suddenly occurred to her. “You’re not a Red Sox fan, are you?” She narrowed her eyes in suspicion.

He chuckled. “Yes, I went to some games, and no, I’m not a Sox fan.”

Of course he wasn’t. She’d never write a hero who was a Red Sox fan.
Sacrilege!

“You like baseball, right?”

“More than life itself.” The corner of his mouth lifted in a grin.

“Would you like to go with me to the Yankees game next week?” she asked, hopeful.

“Sure, if you’d like.”

“Great. You remember Josh—you met him at the opera?”

“Yes,” Blake said, a sardonic smile teasing the corners of his mouth. “He doesn’t care for me.”

“That’s not true,” Darcy protested. “You just need to get to know him. Anyway, I’ll get Josh’s ticket from him.”

“Don’t take the man’s ticket. That only gives him even more reason to dislike me. I have a friend with a box.”

Darcy wasn’t sure about sitting in a box rather than the seats, but how bad could it be? She’d be with Blake watching her beloved Yankees smoke the Mets.

“Do you mind that I hang out with Josh, you know, go to the Yankees games and things?”

“Mind? Why should I mind? You were friends long before I came along. Of course I don’t mind.”

Darcy melted.
He’s so understanding. He’s definitely perfect.
She loved a man so sure of his place in the world that he didn’t need to be jealous.

They rambled along a few more minutes talking about Blake’s residency at Johns Hopkins and then his time in San Diego, before he turned Darcy toward him, and said, “Now. Enough about me.” He placed a soft kiss on her lips, drawing a sigh from her.

She slid her hands up his back to his hair, deepening the kiss. Still not Perfect, she thought, but far from disappointing.

He gently pulled back, looking around at the families and other couples on the street. “We’d better go eat before we make a spectacle of ourselves.”