“Thank goodness she told you the one about ladybugs or I might be in big trouble right now. Any bad luck omens I should keep an eye out for?”
“Hmm…” Francesca said thoughtfully. “There are the ones most people know about—broken mirrors and such. Never leave your hat on the bed. Never set a loaf of bread upside down on the table. Birds or feathers in the home are bad luck. If you spill salt, you have to toss some over your shoulder. The most unlucky number is seventeen. Never marry on a Friday. There are a million of these.”
“Wow,” Liam said. “I’m probably doomed. I’ve been running around for years, cursed, and never knew it.”
Francesca smiled, easing back in her seat to let the waiter place their food on the table. “I think you’ve done pretty well for yourself without it.”
That was true. He’d taken the seed money from his father and built quite a name for himself in broadcast media. He was only twenty-eight. Who knew what else he could accomplish with most of his career still ahead of him? Closing the deal with his aunt and taking full control of ANS could be the launching pad to bigger, better things. Especially if the two-billion-dollar inheritance came through.
His brain couldn’t even comprehend having that much money. He tried not to even think about it. He could only focus on one thing at a time and right now, it was pulling off this engagement and buying ANS outright. He’d put his financial manager on the task before he even sat down to look for a bride. Hopefully, it would all work out. But even his worries were hard to concentrate on with such a beautiful woman sitting across the table from him.
“How about some more random trivia about you? Likes and dislikes,” Liam said.
“My favorite color is red. I adore dark chocolate. I’m allergic to cats. I can cook, but I don’t. I hate carrots and yellow squash. My middle name is Irish and impossible to spell or pronounce properly.”
Liam had to ask. “Wait, what is it?”
“My middle name? It’s pronounced kwee-vuh, which is Gaelic for beautiful. Unfortunately, in English it’s pronounced absolutely nothing like it’s written. C-A-O-I-M-H-E.” She spelled out the name for him and then said it again. “Try explaining that to the woman at the DMV.”
Liam laughed, not trusting himself to repeat the name without slaughtering it. “My middle name is Douglas. Not very exciting or hard to spell.”
“I envy you.”
“What about your dad’s side of the family? You haven’t mentioned much about them.”
“My dad isn’t that close with his family, which is silly considering they live in Malibu, only about thirty miles from Beverly Hills. I only ever saw my grandparents on holidays and birthdays. I’m much closer with my mother’s side of the family.”
“Sounds more like my family. I almost never see them. Tell me something else about you.”
“What else? I never exercise—I hate to sweat. And I enjoy luxurious bubble baths and long walks on the beach.” She finished with a laugh. “This is turning into a lame personal ad.”
“It’s not lame. If I ran across it, I’d be messaging your in-box in an instant.”
“Thanks. But enough about me. What about you?” Francesca asked. “Your turn to tell me all about Liam Crowe.”
*
Dinner had been very nice. The conversation flowed easily and Francesca had to admit she had a good time. She enjoyed spending time with Liam. Honestly, she liked him. He was handsome, smart, funny and easy to talk to. It was nice to hear him talk about his family and his work. He was so passionate about his career; it made her understand just how important the success of ANS was to him. A part of her wished she had met him in college. Who knows what would’ve happened then?
Well, that wasn’t true. She knew what would’ve happened. They would’ve dated, she would’ve fallen for him and he would’ve broken it off at some point, breaking her heart. Liam wasn’t much of a long-term guy. They were only engaged now because his aunt had recognized that in him and twisted his arm.
Despite that, he seemed to be taking the whole thing pretty well. She wasn’t exactly sure how Liam felt about their forced proximity, but he didn’t let it show if he wanted to be someplace else. Actually, he’d been quite complimentary of her, listening to her when she spoke and watching her over his wineglass with appreciative eyes.
Liam pulled up his gray Lexus convertible outside her town house and killed the engine. He turned in his seat to face her, a shy smile curling his lips. He watched her collect her purse and sweater, not speaking but also not making a move to let her out of the car, either.