Page 37 of At Your Service
As it turned out, twenty minutes later, when they were sitting on stools in his kitchen, he could bake a homemade pizza that tasted just as good as any pizzeria she’d ever been to, if not better.
“What’s on this?” she asked as she took another bite.
“Alfredo sauce, ricotta and mozzarella cheeses, plenty of black pepper and oregano.”
“It’s delicious,” she said over the mouthful, and wasn’t lying. “Where’d you learn how to cook if your mother hires caterers?”
“In college. I didn’t like going out much, so I figured it was best to not starve for four years.”
“Why didn’t you like to go out?”
He hesitated, took another bite of his pizza, chewed and then used a napkin to wipe his mouth.
Nina hadn’t realized she was waiting for his response until he looked at her and shook his head.
“It’s not such a big deal now since I’ve learned how to deal with it. But it was because of a girl.”
Never in a million years would she have guessed he’d say that. “What? A girl had you holed up in your dorm for four years?”
“Not exactly. It was during my sophomore year. I thought it was love. Stacia Hudgins poured it on real thick, was talking marriage, kids, the whole package. Come to find out she and her parents had it all set up. They knew who I was, who my family was, and they wanted in. A fake pregnancy scare, lots of tears and then a threat of scandal, and it was over by the time I came home for the summer. That’s when I knew relationships weren’t for me.”
Nina chewed another bite all the while thinking she’d like to have been at school with Stacia Hudgins so she could serve the girl a good dose of “get a life.” Or, as Nina and her sisters would have called it, “whoop ass.”
“Yeah, I’m not into the ‘happy-ever-after’ thing, either.” She was almost positive that was still true. “But not because of any guy in particular. My culprit was my mother. She left when I was twelve. Had enough of the family life and decided there was something better away from the home she’d built. Left my dad with three girls and a broken heart that he’s still nursing. Probably why he’s gotten so sick, but I guess that’s not medically possible.”
“Broken heart” had likely never been listed on anybody’s death certificate.
“Your father has COPD, right?”
She nodded. “Yes. It wasn’t so bad at first, but seven years ago he had to stop working and go on disability because it had gotten to the severe point. He’s weak most of the time, has intermittent swelling in his legs and ankles, and gets confused easily. The confusion isn’t a symptom of COPD, I think it’s more from loneliness. Anyway, my sisters and I have been taking care of him up to this point, but the doctor suggested he might need more assistance to make sure he’s taking his medications and to help him do some of the daily getting around.”
It had been a hard conversation to have as a family, but they’d had it. Her father didn’t want to be a burden to his children, insisting he could take care of his own arrangements when the time came.
“That’s a tough situation,” Major said. “Do you have a facility in mind?”
“We’ve visited a few and there’s one that he favors.” She drank from the glass of wine he’d poured for her. “This boost in business from partnering with RGF will be just what I need to get him into the care home.”
She took another bite of pizza because she’d had enough of talking about herself.
“Maybe I could help. I can make some calls, maybe find a place for your father here in New York.” When she only stared at him, he cleared his throat and continued, “I mean, that way you’ll be close to two of the biggest fashion houses in the States, stylists, models and plenty of other industry people that could talk up your app and provide endorsements.”
“But I live in York. That’s where my family and everything I know is.” That was the truth, but there was suddenly something sad about the way it sounded.
“Right,” he said with a curt nod and a quick smile. “If you’re done, we should clean this up and get to bed.”
“Right. I can take care of the mess since you cooked.”
“Nonsense, we’ll do it together.”
Like a couple did things together. Nina didn’t say that but went along with his suggestion until the kitchen was clean and they headed off to bed...to Major’s bed where she would lie all night wondering if he was the man to make her think twice about happy-ever-after.
CHAPTER TWELVE
THEWINE-COLOREDtulle was even more beautiful as it swayed around them on the dance floor. With Major’s arms wrapped securely around her waist, Nina’s arms remained locked at his neck as they danced. The screens positioned around the banquet room, having earlier displayed a lovely video of their childhood years all the way up to their engagement party, now showed them dancing. Even the people at the back of the four-hundred-seat room could see them close-up.
A slow song played, one that was a favorite of theirs. But she couldn’t hear the lyrics. She just swayed to the rhythm and stared up into his face, remembering the exact moment that she’d agreed to become Mrs. Major Gold.
They danced until the scene changed and she was once again walking through the doors of the RGF building, with a determined smile on her face as she approached the now familiar pretty receptionist with the coal-black hair.
