Teacup Novellas 01 - Tea With Emma (11 page)

As his feet pounded the sidewalks of Hyde Park, Ian reflected on those lost years. The blasted restlessness that forever ate away at him. The hopelessness that covered him like a hot blanket on a blistering summer’s day. And the brusqueness for which he’d become known, a characteristic so utterly unfamiliar to his personality—at least until Melissa so publicly humiliated him. It had settled upon him so completely, he’d been unable to shake it. All these years later, it still plagued him, like the all-encompassing role of an actor playing the part of an ill-tempered grouch. But unlike an actor merely playing a part, he couldn’t let go of the stranger he’d become.  

As he turned the corner and trekked his way through the quaint neighborhood, Ian realized something was going on inside him. Quite an odd feeling, actually. He pushed himself harder, ignoring the slight remnant of pain in his foot, and allowed himself to search his heart for answers.

Could it be Melissa was right? Had theirs had been an engagement of social peer pressure and not a legitimate result of true love?
No, of course not. I loved her dearly. With all my heart.

But even as the thought marched through his head, he knew it wasn’t completely true. He cared for her. Deeply. There was never any question of that. And perhaps at some point that affection grew into love. But was it the kind of love that would have lasted a lifetime? Was it worthy of the vow he nearly took—
til death do us part?

A strange ache washed over him. He slowed to a trot, wondering why he felt this way. Then it hit him.

Good heavens. It’s true.

And just that fast, he knew. Without a trace of doubt, he knew Melissa was right. They had almost married for all the wrong reasons.

If she hadn’t been the chancellor’s daughter, I never would have asked her out in the first place. If we hadn’t dazzled the university community as the “perfect couple,” I would never have proposed.

Ouch. The realization smarted like a slap in the face. Sure, Melissa was beautiful. And smart. And funny. But she was also a daddy’s girl. And Daddy still ruled, no matter where she might have roosted. At the time, the attention and notoriety made it all intoxicating and appealing. At least on some level. And if he was completely honest, he’d fantasized about climbing the academic ladder and one day succeeding his father-in-law as chancellor of prestigious Vanderbilt University.

But now, with the cleansing clarity of unabashed truth rushing through his veins, he knew he never could have lived in Dr. Halston’s domineering shadow. Perhaps the marriage would have lasted a year or two. But only if he became a dutiful, family puppet.

He slowed, coming to a stop, more winded than he’d been in years. He leaned over, hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. He closed his eyes, imagining Melissa in her wedding gown that fated day. He pictured her in the bridal suite at the church, standing before a full-length mirror. He watched as her eyes, hidden beneath the veil, slowly tracked upward until she faced herself directly in the reflection.

She knew. She knew . . .

And she couldn’t do it to me.

She loved me enough to let me go.

Ian stood, then stumbled against a nearby tree as a sob escaped from his throat, catching him completely off guard.
Dear God, she knew. She did it for
me
. And all these years I’ve hated her, despised her for embarrassing me. Oh God, forgive me. How did I get it all so wrong?

He slid down the tree, landing in a heap on the dying grass. He dropped his head in his hands and felt the tears fall. He couldn’t find the words, but somehow he knew God heard his heart. Filled with shame, he could only ask for forgiveness, over and over. For hating her. For wasting so many years of his life filled with that hate. And for spreading a little of it on everyone he met.

 To forgive is to set a prisoner free and discover that the prisoner was you.
The words echoed through his soul again. But this time, they felt less like an indictment and more like a soothing balm.

He leaned his head back against the tree, looking up through the almost-bare branches. A breeze danced through the remaining leaves, seeming to shake them just for good measure. As he squinted against the morning sun, he watched one of the shriveled, surviving leaves give up the fight and let go. It floated downward, first this way then that, finally coming to rest just beside him.

A sign. A vivid picture.

He’d let go too. After all these years, he’d finally let go. He was no longer a prisoner of his own making anymore.

He was
free
.

He picked up the leaf and twirled it by the stem, uttering a prayer of thanks. It had been a long, long time since he’d prayed. In fact, he couldn’t remember the last time. But in his new-found freedom, he felt surprisingly close to the God he’d ignored for so many decades. As if the Almighty Himself was listening to every word he prayed. Especially the ones he eventually whispered as he invited God back into his life.
Half an hour and a phone call later, Ian Grant experienced the incomparable sweet release of complete forgiveness and a new beginning.

Maddie and Lanie kept a cool distance in the days following their heated exchange. Maddie tried several times to apologize, but Lanie always cut her off. “We can maintain a professional partnership, Maddie, but our friendship is over. I’ll do whatever you need me to do for the grand opening. But please honor my wishes and don’t confuse our professional relationship with our former friendship.” They had slid into an odd place, one Maddie could barely tolerate. But with only four days left before they opened, it would have to do.

Late one afternoon, Brad hung around the kitchen. “Maddie, do you have a minute?”

“Sure,” she answered, pushing the curls out of her face and tucking them back under her bandana. “What can I do for you?”

He leaned against the island, running his hand along the smooth granite edge. “I was just wondering if you’d consider having dinner with me sometime. I’ve enjoyed getting to know you, and I thought maybe—”

“Oh, Brad, that’s really sweet.” She turned her back to him, busying herself with the dirty stack of cookie sheets in the oversized sink. “But y’know, with the opening coming up, and everything I still have to do, I just wouldn’t possibly have time.”

“Oh,” he said, then paused. When he didn’t say more, she turned her head to see what he was doing. He shuffled his feet then folded his arms across his chest. “Well, I can understand that. In fact, I assumed you’d need some time. Of course, I meant
after
the opening. I suppose I should have said that, huh? Once you’ve had some time to get used to your new routine. No rush.”

Maddie dried her hands on her apron and turned around to face him again. “Well, uh . . . the thing is . . .” She stopped cold, her eyes glued to his lazy smile that warmed his brown eyes. She caught herself staring, studying the tiny flecks of gold in those brown eyes.
What is wrong with me?!
She coughed, continuing to mentally scold herself.

He reached across the space between them, brushing the same renegade curl out of her eyes. When his fingers touched her brow, a shot of electricity bolted through her.
Where did
THAT
come from?

“Maddie, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t attracted to you. In fact, I’ve been trying to get the nerve to ask you out for quite a while now. Guess I’m just a little slow when it comes to that sort of thing.”

She closed her eyes and sighed. “But Brad, I just thought maybe you and Lanie—”

“Me and Lanie? What gave you that idea?”

She opened her eyes again. “Oh, I don’t know. I guess I just fancy myself a bit of a matchmaker.” She grabbed a hand towel, absently wiping a phantom spot on the counter. “I just thought the two of you might have a lot in common. Or something. And Lanie is such a sweetheart, I just thought maybe—”

He scratched a spot above his right eyebrow. “Wait a second. Did you . . . was that night Lanie met me at Starbucks—was that your doing? Did you put her up to that?”

She focused on another spot on the countertop. “Well, see, I thought—”

“Oh no,” he groaned. He let his head fall back, shaking it. “She said she had something to ask me. She was going to ask me out, wasn’t she?” He leveled his gaze at her.

“Um, well actually—”

“Maddie?”

She dropped the hand towel and stuffed her fidgeting hands in her apron pockets. “Yes. Yes, I
suggested
she talk to you. But all I did was give her a little nudge. Brad, she was really hoping you’d agree to start going out with her.”

“
She
was hoping? Or
you
were hoping? Which is it? Because I really never got that impression from her. Not once.”

They stared at each other until Maddie could no longer stand it. “Okay,
I
was hoping. But it’s only because I know Lanie so well! We’ve known each other our whole lives. And she’s such an
amazing
person. But guys never give her a chance because she’s . . . because she doesn’t come across that interested, y’know? She’s more into books and computers.
Way
too interested in computers, if you ask me.”

He let out a loud sigh. “Good grief, Maddie. Do you know what you’ve done?” He rubbed the back of his neck. “That night at Starbucks, before she had a chance to ask me out, I asked her about
you
. I asked if she thought you might go out with me.”

“I know.”

“What do you mean, you know? She told you?”

“We tell each other everything. We’re best friends. Or at least we
were
. She hasn’t spoken to me since that night. Well, not in anything but a professional capacity, anyway. And only when she has to concerning the business.”

He shook his head again. “Wow. She’s that upset about it? I wondered why I hadn’t seen her around much.”

“Oh,” Maddie croaked, avoiding his eyes on her. “Well, it wasn’t
just
that.”

“What? What else have you done?” He stepped closer, definitely invading her comfort zone.

“Well, the thing is, she was already kind of involved with someone else.”

“What? Why would you even think of putting her up to ask me out if she was already dating someone else?”

She blew out a huff in frustration. “Because she wasn’t ‘dating’ someone else. He’s just a cyber-boyfriend. And that’s all it is. She’s never even met him. She Skypes with him all the time, but what kind of a relationship comes from that? Besides, he’s a geek. He’s not her type.”

“You’ve met him but she hasn’t?”

“Why does everyone just assume I’ve met him? No, of course not. He lives in California.”

“Yet you know enough about him to know he’s not your best friend’s ‘type’?”

She stole a quick peek at him, unnerved by the disappointment registering in those brown eyes. For a split second, she tried to figure out what cologne he was wearing, then she realized it wasn’t the time or place for that sort of thing.
Get a grip, Maddie. You’re in hot water here.

He turned, drumming his fingers impatiently on the counter as he slowly made his way to the back door. “I don’t know, Maddie. Seems to me you should mind your own business and let others figure out their own lives.”

“I know. It’s just a character flaw, I guess. Nana lectures me about it all the time.”

He opened the back door without turning around. “Maybe you should start listening to her,” he said, quietly closing the door behind him.

Maddie bit her lip, wondering why she couldn’t get it right. Brad had everything in the world to offer.
What
was
that cologne? He smelled so good tonight. And that smile. I could get lost in that smile for a couple centuries. And what was it about those eyes . . .

So why didn’t she just agree to have dinner with him? Why
wasn’t
she interested in him like that? She didn’t have a clue. Of course, now that she’d blown it, he’d probably never even think to ask her out.

In the days that followed, he was the perfect gentleman. Distant, but polite, just as he’d always been. For that she was sadly grateful.

Even if she didn’t deserve it.

Chapter
10

A
s the opening neared, Jonathan became a fixture at the house, helping with even the smallest details. Maddie watched the growing fondness in his eyes for her grandmother, but she clung to the scriptures Nana had shared with her, knowing God was more than able to make a match if there was one to be made.

But Ian Grant was another story.

She spotted the mystery woman’s car in the Bradford House driveway more times than she cared to think about, though she never saw her again. The situation confounded her. The temptation to walk across the street and knock on that door gnawed at her.
Who is she and what is she to you anyway, Dr. Grant?

Of course it was none of her business. What troubled her even more was the wound it had left in her heart, an ache that bothered her every time she saw that car.
But why? What concern is it to me?