Authors: Leigh Brown,Victoria Corliss
* * *
CHAPTER TWELVE
Glancing furtively at Amelia sleeping beside him, Tim pinched himself on the arm and blushed. His childish behavior was really embarrassing but he couldn’t help it. So much had happened lately he needed a reality check to make sure he wasn’t dreaming.
In a few weeks he’d be joining the rank and file of Brown Books as their new Vice President of Marketing. Despite getting off to a rocky start he and Chad had managed to overcome their differences and questionable opinions of each other to see the benefits of collaborating professionally. With Chad’s name and business acumen and Tim’s savvy knowhow and pit bull tenacity, they’d knock the publishing world on its competitive little ass. That’s what Chad said, sounding totally unlike the silver spoon baby Tim had always pegged him for. This was ‘tough guy’ Chad and he kind of liked him.
And then there was George. His dad. It still sounded strange to him even after their whirlwind reunion, but he wasn’t complaining. It couldn’t have been easy for George either discovering he was a father and had been for twenty-nine years but he seemed to take it in stride. He’d taken a huge risk sharing the truth of his checkered past with Tim. “I’ve made a lot of mistakes and hurt a lot of people in my life but I really hope I haven’t totally scared you off. More than anything I just want to be a part of your life.”
No, George wasn’t perfect but he was a good man and that was enough for Tim as they focused on building a father/son relationship they could both live with, one that satisfied both George’s newfound paternal interests and Tim’s inherent independence. His mother was another story however, not to mention ‘the elephant in the airport’ as George readied to fly home.
George was sad feeling helpless he couldn’t do more to reunite them. A boy, even one twenty-nine years old needed his mother and Pashmina was his mother even if she wasn’t acting like it. Placing a firm hand on Tim’s shoulder he said, “I wish I could be with you when you meet Pashmina. She’s beautiful and independent and head-strong, and you’re a lot like her.” Tim’s eyes grew wide with surprise and he chuckled. “Go easy on her. I’m sure she has her reasons for doing what she did.”
“Frowning already? It’s not even 7:00 o’clock yet.” Amelia yawned stretching as she pulled herself up beside Tim. “Bet I can put a smile back on your handsome face.” She kissed him, gently at first like a butterfly whispering to a flower, then deeply, her tongue artfully probing the warmth of his mouth until her pulse raced and Tim’s breathing quickened. Groaning with pleasure he pulled her on top of him, the silky strands of her hair enveloping them both like the boughs of a weeping willow, soft and sheltering as Tim forgot about his parents, his new job, and everything else for a while.
“Told you I could make you smile,” she teased later.
“I didn’t doubt it for a minute.” He kissed her forehead and pushed himself out of bed heading for the bathroom.
Smoothing the rumpled bed covers around her Amelia spoke to the open doorway in what she hoped was a casual tone. “So you’ve been having quite the week,” she started. “A new job. Congratulations again Mr. Vice President of Marketing at Brown Books.” A muffled thanks floated back to her. “Then meeting your biological father. That’s huge.”
“Mmm hmm. Huge.”
“You must be on Cloud 9.”
“Maybe even 10,” he joked, wiping the remains of his morning shave from his face.
“We should celebrate.”
“Definitely.”
“Great!” Amelia beamed like a kid on Christmas morning. “I have an idea. Now I know after our first date we promised no more work functions but,” she took a nervous breath and let the rest of her words spill out, “I have this thing tonight. It’s kind of business but not really because Uncle Monte will be there too and he’s not business, he’s family.” Was she babbling? She was babbling. “Anyway, the point is I’m having dinner tonight with him and Pashmina Papadakis. They’re old friends, and Pashmina and I are becoming friends, and Uncle Monte and me, well you know.” Her voice trailed off quietly.
She paused and hearing nothing from the bathroom, continued. “Pashmina and I have been working around the clock on her book getting it ready for deadline and we’re feeling a little burnt we need something to recharge us.” She paused, the twisted sheet was like a Twizzler between her hands. “She suggested a double date, her and Monte and you and me. It’s perfect.”
Crickets. “And it’s the perfect way to launch your new career in publishing, having dinner with one of the greatest fiction writers of our time,” she said sweetening the pot, “I mean that’s something even Chadwick Brown would kill for. So what do you think?” Amelia was ready to beg. “Will you bend the ‘no business rule’ for me this once?”
Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, his palms resting on the edge of the sink Tim considered his astonished expression staring back at him. You’ve gotta be shitting me, was she serious? Pashmina was all he’d been thinking about since George had encouraged him to find her.
“You’re a lot like her.”
He thought about the collection of Pashmina Papadakis mystery novels on the book shelf in Amelia’s room. While she’d made them dinner and chatted with Rose catching up on the dirt of the day, he’d inspected them like a thief, glancing over his shoulder to avoid being caught. Every book was the same with an ornate front cover illustration and a portrait of Pashmina on the back sitting erect, hands elegantly crossed in her lap and a Mona Lisa smile flitting about her lips. Admittedly they shared more than a passing resemblance as well as an incredible secret he couldn’t wait to reveal.
“Sure,” he called out to Amelia.
“Sure?” She couldn’t believe it. “That’s it, ‘sure’, no begging or pleading required?”
Poking his head through the doorway he flashed his most heart-melting smile. She had no idea the gift she’d just given him. “Not this time, in fact I owe you one.”
“How do you figure?” She flopped back on the pillows in relief.
“So you’ve forgotten our first date already?”
“Not forgotten, just forgiven. Let’s call it even. Agreed?”
“Agreed.” Feeling like he’d dodged a bullet Tim stepped into the shower and let the steady stream of droplets pelt down on him. He knew he should have told her the truth about Pashmina but he couldn’t. Scratch that, he didn’t want to, not yet. Even the nervous bubbles suddenly flitting around in his stomach like a just opened bottle of seltzer didn’t lessen his desire to stay quiet. Suddenly he couldn’t wait to meet her and a crazy calm took over as he imagined an outburst of tearful hugs and loving words bringing them together again. He was happy just thinking about it and he wanted to keep it that way, his dream unspoiled and untouched by anyone else.
Through the shower door he saw Amelia examining herself in the mirror, searching for imperfections in her flawless face. He knew how she felt. “Stop worrying,” he called out to her wondering who he was really trying to convince, “you’re perfect just the way you are.”
* * *
Street lights danced and twinkled like so many fireflies flitting about the warm summer night as darkness settled over the Boston Public Gardens. From inside the restaurant, Pashmina gazed at the view and sighed contentedly. Beautiful.
Beside her Monte tipped his drink in a toast, “To a lovely evening and an even more beautiful woman.”
Pashmina smiled warmly touching her glass to his. Thank God for Monte. From their first meeting as two greenhorns at a small publishing house to now, he’d been her dearest friend besides Sofie, standing by her through thick and thin, sharing her secrets, and lending a manly shoulder to lean on when she needed it. Theirs was a deep and loving friendship, friends with benefits as the youth of today would say minus all the trappings of a committed relationship. After Harry she’d never wanted to commit herself to any other man; Monte understood that and accepted it without question.
Sipping his drink he winked flirtatiously at Pashmina, eliciting a girlish giggle from her. She watched him fondly taking note of his long slender fingers wrapped gently but protectively around his glass like he often held her hand; this man was her rock, strong and dependable, with a snow-cap of soft white hair and a matching mustache, neatly trimmed. He cut a dashing figure in his hand-crafted Italian silk suit, like an older version of James Bond but equally debonair and a man of mystery as well. “I can’t believe in all the years we’ve known each other I’ve never met Amelia until now. I mean I knew you had a niece in Boston but you’ve kept her well hidden.”
“It’s not something I’m very proud of I’m afraid,” Monte replied eliciting a look of shock. “Oh don’t get me wrong Amelia’s a lovely girl, the daughter I never had really,” he explained. “I was ecstatic when she decided to attend college in Boston. For me and her. You see her mother, my sister Francesca has a tendency to suffocate the ones she loves most with her attention and devotion, but Amelia’s too independent for that kind of love, she wanted to make her own way in the world.”
He sighed. “Francesca only agreed to let her come after I promised to look out for her while she was here.” He looked at her sheepishly. “But I’m afraid I did that a bit too well for my sister’s liking.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, while she was still in school I arranged for Amelia to intern at Dewes. At the time she didn’t really have a career focus of any kind but she’s smart, and sharp, and dedicated, and I just figured working at Dewes would be fun for her, give her some extra spending money, that sort of thing. But the crazy girl fell in love with publishing and Dewes loved her and offered her a full-time position after she graduated. Needless to say, she stayed up North a long way from home and her mother in South Carolina; Francesca blames me for that.”
He smiled sadly swirling his drink so the ice cubes bounced off one another like bumper cars. “Francesca’s not really mad at me, I know that, but I feel guilty all the same. If anyone did anything--intentional or otherwise--to keep my child away from me I wouldn’t be happy either.”
A shadow passed fleetingly over Pashmina’s face and Monte hurried to comfort her. “I’m sorry Darling. I didn’t mean to remind you of your own loss.”
“It’s alright,” she assured him, “you didn’t remind me of anything I don’t think about all the time anyway.”
Monte nodded sympathetically.
“Ok, no more sadness tonight,” Pashmina said smiling brightly. “Tonight is about having fun, spending time with good people and stuffing ourselves with delicious food.”
“I’m in but I hope Amelia and Tim get here soon because I’m starving!”
* * *
“There they are,” said Amelia pointing to Pashmina and Monte chatting quietly together at a table. Claiming a ticket from the cloak room clerk Tim moved to stand beside her following the direction of her gaze.
“They’re a striking couple,” he observed, though he only had eyes for Pashmina. Her raven hair gleamed sleekly in the candlelight, and rosy spots of color blossomed on her smooth olive cheeks as she blushed prettily under Monte’s admiring attention. Ever so slightly he raised his eyes to meet hers, two almonds dipped in rich dark chocolate just like his.
There she was, his lovely mother looking directly at him. She didn’t look like the kind of person who would heartlessly abandon her baby. Hope trumped hurt as Tim’s heart pounded and Pashmina’s eyes lit up flickering with excitement. Smiling, she waved him over. Did she recognize him? Raising his arm to respond, Amelia grabbed it and squeezed his hand. “You ready? C’mon, they’re waiting for us.”
Monte and Pashmina stood to greet them as they approached the table and Tim waited impatiently as Amelia hugged first Pashmina and then her uncle. Then it was his turn.
“Uncle Monte you remember Tim don’t you?” she asked as the two shook hands.
“And Pashmina, I’d like to introduce you to my boyfriend, Timothy Smith. Don’t hold it against him but Tim just joined Brown Books as their new VP of Marketing,” she announced proudly.
“That’s wonderful,” Pashmina congratulated Tim, kissing him gently on both cheeks. “We must celebrate don’t you think Monte, how about some champagne?”
Reluctant to let her go, Tim continued to grasp her by the arms, savoring her perfumed scent and the tingling sensation where her lips had touched his skin. “I’m afraid I’m not much of a champagne man,” he apologized.
“No?” Pashmina eyed him head to toe. Leaning towards him conspiratorially she whispered, “To tell you the truth neither am I, it gives me a terrible hangover; what about a nice gin and tonic instead?” He nodded and let a laughing Pashmina lead him to the table. “Come on then, let’s get this party started!”
* * *
He felt like an outsider looking into a transparent bubble where the others laughed and talked easily while he sat quietly, present but not engaged. Aside from the occasional worried glance from Amelia, no one even seemed to notice as he watched and listened, studying Pashmina’s every movement from the elegant turn of her head as she spoke to Monte and Amelia, to the graceful arch of her brows lifting up and down in delight.
He’d imagined this moment all day, the moment when he and his mother would finally meet and he still didn’t know what to do or say.
Hi, I’m Tim, your son
. To the point but not very smooth. He grimaced. Maybe he shouldn’t say anything just yet maybe he should just try to get to know her a little bit first. As much as he wanted to just blurt it out right now, he was too scared. Curbing his impatience, he decided to relax and join the conversation.