A light Anne hadn’t seen before sparked to life in George’s eyes. “You felt God was leading you? I’ve always admired people who listen for God’s voice and take the leaps of faith He sometimes asks of them.”
Was George a believer? She wanted to ask but didn’t want to embarrass him. “Faith is something I’ve struggled with my whole life. But I knew I just had to do it.”
“What a blessing… to know what you’re doing is God’s plan.” His voice sounded almost sad. “And you are good at it. I…I happened by the Bonneterre Chapel Saturday morning and watched you work. I should have made my presence known, but you were busy, and I didn’t want to interrupt.”
His admitting he’d been there was a surprise, but the words of affirmation floored her. “Thank you. What brought you by the church?”
“I was out for a drive and was drawn to it. I would like to find a congregation to attend regularly, since I will be living here until October. I noticed the door was open and let myself in. It’s a beautiful church.”
“Yes. It’s a very easy place to hold a wedding. Not much in the way of decoration is needed, and the colors are neutral enough that they go with anything a bride could choose. Plus, I know practically everyone on staff—that’s the church I grew up in.”
“And do you still attend there?” Interest in the subject lent a new warmth to George’s handsome features.
Anne’s heart skipped a beat when his brown eyes twinkled. “I do, although sometimes it’s hard to make it to Sunday morning service when I have a late evening wedding the day before. Are you—did you grow up going to church as well?”
He shook his head. “No, I prayed to receive Christ as my Savior about twenty years ago. The head of staff at my first professional position was a Christian. We read the Bible and prayed together every day before we started work.”
“Do you still keep in touch with him?” She smiled up at the waiter who came by to clear their plates, then returned her focus to George.
“He passed away five years ago, just after I came to the States to work.” George’s eyes softened as he spoke of his mentor. “I couldn’t attend his funeral, and while I do miss being able to speak with him, I know I’ll see him again.”
His openness made Anne even more uncomfortable. Every detail she learned about him served to reinforce her attraction to him. She couldn’t allow herself to feel this way about a client. She wasn’t sure what to say, and silence once again settled between them.
They were saved from a moment of awkwardness when Jenn returned to the table. “How were your meals?”
“Very good, as usual,” Anne told her cousin, but Jenn wasn’t looking at her.
“The fish and chips reminded me of a pub in London we frequented when I was a boy.” George smiled politely.
Even though she hadn’t known him long, just from watching him carefully today and in their past few meetings, Anne was starting to be able to read his facial expressions. He was better at controlling his reactions and schooling his features than she, but his eyes gave him away. His beautiful eyes that were the color of sun-brewed iced tea… the very same eyes that were now looking at her askance.
“Anne?” Jenn nudged her. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. I just zoned out there for a second.” Heat crawled up her cheeks.
Jenn removed the cap of her pen with her teeth to write something on her order pad. Speaking around the cap, she said, “I asked what site y’all are going to visit next.”
“Oh. Comeaux Town Center. Then Benoit Hall.”
“Lafitte’s Landing has those two beaten, hands down.” Jenn tore off the sheet she’d written on and put it facedown on the table in front of Anne. “George, great to meet you. Hopefully I’ll see you around again soon.”
He nodded noncommittally.
Jenn leaned over and kissed Anne’s cheek. “Annie, I’ll see you back here for dinner Thursday night.”
“I should be here, but don’t be surprised if I’m late.” Anne picked up the ticket and slid out of the booth.
“I’ll save you a seat.”
“Thanks.” She gave her cousin a quick hug. As soon as Jenn walked away, Anne reached into her small purse and pulled out a twenty-dollar bill, which she left on the table.
George reached for his wallet, but Anne stopped him. “I never make a client pay for a meal. Company policy.”
He looked uncomfortable but didn’t argue with her.
Anne looked down at the check. Rather than a receipt for their lunch, it was a note in her cousin’s chunky, loopy script. She read it as she walked toward the door.
He’s hot. Find out if he has a brother and let me know.
—J
Anne smiled and shook her head. When would her cousin figure out that she was a wedding planner, not a matchmaker?
Chapter 9
At eight o’clock Tuesday evening, fourteen hours since the beginning of her workday, Anne locked the front door of her office and turned off all the lights. But after two hours of draining mediation, Amanda and David’s wedding was a go for Saturday.
Her back ached between her shoulders, and she rolled her neck to try to work out the stiffness. Next stop: home, where she would fill the spa tub with hot water and her favorite tea-therapy essential oils and try to release some of this stress. Her stomach rumbled, and she adjusted her plans to include running by Rotier’s on the way to get her favorite grilled chicken club sandwich.
The sandwich never made it out of the car. In the ten minutes from the restaurant to the converted Victorian triplex, she’d wolfed down the club and most of the large order of french fries. Her eyelids drooped as she parked between Jennifer’s red classic Mustang and Meredith’s white, late-model Volvo SUV.
She’d rather hoped the girls would have gone out tonight so she could be sure of some private time to unwind. Even though each had her own apartment—Meredith on the ground floor, Jennifer on the third, and Anne in the middle—they rarely, if ever, hesitated to drop in on each other if the mood struck. Especially Jenn, who couldn’t seem to comprehend why anyone would ever want to be alone.
Anne waved bugs out of her face as she fumbled to find the key to the back door. Maybe they should replace the incandescent porch light with a bug zapper.
She smiled and crossed the threshold. With the deposit for the Landry-Laurence wedding safely tucked away in the bank, she could get an architect out to start redesigning this place back into a grand single-family home. She hadn’t told the girls yet, just in case something fell through. But it was time for all of them to move on, live by themselves.
Thursday night at the family singles’ dinner would be the perfect time. That way she wouldn’t get fussed at for leaving someone out of the telling.
The wooden stairs creaked, and she winced, hoping neither of the girls would notice. The rear entrance opened into her kitchen. She snapped on the lights…and groaned. A couple of cabinet doors stood ajar, and half of her mixing and serving bowls sat on the previously empty countertop.
“Hey, Anne—” Meredith stopped in the doorway.
Anne dropped her bags on the kitchen table, shrugged out of her suit jacket, and waved toward the mess. “Jenn?”
Meredith nodded, stepped back out into the hall, and bellowed her sister’s name. “She came down a couple of hours ago to ‘borrow’ some flour—and sugar and eggs and baking soda. I didn’t realize she needed something to mix it all up in, too.”
Anne leaned over to replace the stack of bowls in the cabinet under the sink. “Looks like she needed the mixer, too. How a woman who has her own business—”
“You rang?” Jennifer bounced into the room. “Oh, sorry. I was about to come down and put all that away, Anne.”
Meredith sat at the table, and Jennifer hopped up to sit on the counter beside the refrigerator. So much for a quiet evening and a long, hot bath.