Page 58 of The Art of Falling in Love with Your Enemy
A quick look at my watch tells me it’s almost eight. The entranceway, which was busy before with everyone arriving, has thinned out. There’s even room for me to pace on the walkway now, so I do, as Tuck flicks a gaze toward the entrance.
“I’m gonna go inside. I’ll see you at the table?”
His question feels like it’s loaded with heavy artillery, and it’s all aimed my way. Will he see me at the table? Will I come inside if she doesn’t show up, or will I simply retreat and go home?
Will Etta even show up?
Taking a slow breath, I nod my head and attempt a carefree grin. “Of course. See you inside.”
I watch Tuck as he makes his way through the entrance and disappears under the wisteria vines, headed for the ballroom. Looking around, I try to keep that carefree grin on my face as I fiddle with the envelope and wait for Etta. It’s a good thing Tuck’s left me alone since I need a few minutes to think things through—because he gave me an idea.
I’m determined to make this right, but the key ingredient needed for this apology recipe needs to be here first. So I pace some more.
The server who had taken my request for water ages ago is back. I take the glass of cold water he offers and down it in one go, handing it back to him with a flourish, and thanking him before he runs off.
More pacing. A quick look at my watch tells me it’s now eight. I glance up and survey the parking lot, but there are no stragglers. There’s no one walking toward me. The buoyancy of knowing what I want to do is still here, but it’s waning. I don’t want it to wane. I want to—
“Hey.”
Spinning around, my heart slides into my throat when I find Etta standing in front of me wearing the most stunning off-the-shoulder gown I’ve ever seen. The most dangerous smile I’ve ever had the pleasure of being treated to dances on her lips.
“You’re here.” Yep. That’s all I manage to eek out.
Still smiling, she takes a step toward me. “I’m here.”
An electric shock rages across my body, and I can’t move. Thank goodness I can speak.
“I’m glad you came.” Looking out at the parking lot, I laugh. “I’ve been standing here watching for your car to pull in.”
“I came in through the entrance on the other side of the hotel. It’s where the cab dropped me off.” She takes a slow and careful step toward where I stand. “I feel like we should talk before we go inside.”
Holding up a hand, I wave it in the air to stop her. “You’re right, we do. But I want you to listen to me, okay?”
Etta’s eyes narrow slightly as she puts a hand on her hip. “Okay. You have the floor.”
My stomach turns a giant somersault as I hold up the envelope I’ve been clutching in my hand. My feet can finally move from where I’m rooted, so I step forward and place the envelope in her hand.
She looks at the envelope, then back at me. “What is this?”
“It isthecard.”
Recognition flickers in her eyes. “Ahhh. The baseball card. And what do you want me to do with it? Rip it up?”
“Oh, no, please don’t do that.” Chuckling, I take her other hand. Pulling it to my lips, I kiss it, allowing my mouth to linger on the back of her hand a little longer than intended. “This card is more yours than mine. I can’t say I’m sorry in any more languages—”
“Saying it in Vulcan was a nice touch,” Etta acknowledges, her mouth quirking at the corners.
“Glad you liked it.” If I’m not reading things wrong, she seems to be more receptive to me, so I keep going. “Like I was saying, you’ve heard enough from me about this whole mess I created. Tuck gave me the card tonight to do what I want with. And what I want is to help you sell this card and use the money to put into your business.”
Etta’s eyes widen as she snaps her hand back from my grasp. “Say what?”
“I know you want to open that business and you can’t without funds. This card will give you plenty. Besides, it’s the only way I can tell you how sorry I am. Again. And I’ll keep telling you that as long as you’ll allow me to because I don’t want to be in a world that doesn’t have Etta McCoy by my side, okay?”
Watching her face is like seeing a storm clear, in its own beautiful way. Watching her as she holds the envelope and flips it around in her hands, I can tell my words are sinking in.
But man, am I shocked when she hands that envelope right back to me.
“No.”
