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Tears trickled down Tom’s clean-shaven, weathered face. “I miss him, G . . . Gracie girl.”
“I miss him too.” Now more than ever, since I wasn’t sure the real Brooks would ever come back again.Chapter TwentyI carefully walked down the stairs in my sparkly, strappy heels that went perfectly with my halter-neckline dress. The knee-length dress had a tight sheath underlayer with a translucent teal overlay that subtly glittered in the light. Julian was taking me to Manresa’s, an overpriced fancy restaurant outside of Dallas. I’d told him that wasn’t really my style, but he’d insisted I would love the food and atmosphere.
Daddy stopped in his tracks as he came out of the living room and grabbed his heart. “Wow. Honey.”
I met him at the bottom of the stairs. “Do I look okay?”
“You, my love, are the spitting image of your mother. She always took my breath away.”
My eyes got misty. I missed Momma so much. “Thanks, Daddy.”
“Are you sure you want to go out looking so beautiful?” Daddy teased.
“Don’t worry, I think I’m destined to be a spinster and live in this house forever. But just so you know, as soon as you kick the bucket, I’m repainting the robin’s-egg–blue kitchen and your pink room.” I winked.
Daddy chuckled. “The house is and will be yours to do with as you please. Though I have a feeling you won’t be living here forever,” he sighed.
I wrapped my arms around him. “If I ever do leave, I won’t go far.”
He gave me a good squeeze. “Don’t let me hold you back.”
“You’ve only ever lifted me up. I blame you for my high expectations.”
He kissed my head. “You’re a good girl. Make sure you choose someone who deserves you.”
I nodded, hoping I would have some choices someday. Then the doorbell rang. “I guess that’s my cue. Good night, Daddy.”
“I’ll wait up.”
He had no idea how much that always meant. “Love you,” I called before I opened the door to find Julian rocking a black suit and tie. Holy crow was he dashing. My jaw literally dropped. Move over, Dr. Noah Drake, there was a new doctor in town. Ye-ow. Now, if he could sing “Jessie’s Girl,” I would elope with him tomorrow.
Julian seemed just as stunned with me as his eyes roved over and over me. “Gracie,” he said breathlessly. “You are a vision.”
“I was thinking the same thing about you.”
Julian pulled me to him and held me tight.
I snuggled against him. He smelled amazing, like a spice cabinet.
He took in several deep breaths and let them out slowly, clinging to me.
“Are you okay?”
“It’s been a rough day, but you’re making it better already.”
I leaned away just enough to look into his beautiful eyes. “What happened?”
He closed his eyes. “I had to deliver a stillborn baby today. It’s not the first time, but it never gets easier.”
I rested my hand on his warm cheek. “I’m so sorry. Do you want to come in and talk? We can go out another night.”
He leaned into my hand and opened his eyes. “A night out with you is just what the doctor ordered.”
“Are you sure? I feel awful.”
He pressed a gentle kiss to my lips. “Don’t. I’m sure.”
“Let me grab my purse and we can go.” I fluttered back into the house, grabbed the silver purse that went well with my ensemble, and headed out the door with Julian.
The car ride was a pretty silent affair. I could tell Julian was lost in his thoughts as he held my hand and deftly weaved in and out of the ridiculous Monday night traffic. I couldn’t imagine having a job that dealt with life and death. The most joyous occasions and probably some of the most heart wrenching. I wished I knew what to say or do to make it better.
When we arrived at the restaurant and before the valet was to us, Julian turned to me. “Would you mind driving home tonight?”
“Um . . . no.”
“Great. I have a feeling it will be at least a two-glasses-of-wine night.”
Before I could respond, the valet was to us. I wasn’t sure how to feel about this turn of events. I wasn’t against people drinking—occasionally I partook—but I wondered if he regularly used alcohol to cope. I, at least, appreciated him not wanting to drive intoxicated, and maybe he would only drink a couple of glasses, which was no big deal.
Julian held me close as we walked into the opulent restaurant that dripped extravagance. The ceiling was covered in live flowering vines, and the chairs were made of a deep burgundy velvet. Each table was lit by candlelight, and even though it was summertime, a large fireplace lowly burned in the center of the restaurant. I was completely blown away. Never had I been in a more romantic setting.
“Right this way, Dr. Bronson and Ms. Cartwright.” The maître d’, dressed to the nines in a tux, led us to our table. I felt out of place, like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman. You know, except I wasn’t a paid escort. The place screamed top one percenters. I felt like I had a big sticker on my head that advertised I didn’t have a college degree and I drove a domestic car.
