The next day, Clara sat next to Andrew on a pontoon in the San Francisco Bay. They were being ferried out to the platform housing the restaurant she highly recommended. But it wasn’t the underwater culinary experience that had her anticipating the evening. It was spending time with Andrew. He was even more handsome and more charming than she recalled.
Maybe they’d been too young back then to take such a big step. Or maybe she’d been too stubborn and foolish to realize what it took to meet a person halfway. But she was in absolutely no position to start a relationship. With the imminent sale of the chapel, her business needed her full attention.
“What are you thinking about?”
The sound of Andrew’s voice drew her from her thoughts. She glanced over at him, their eyes briefly meeting. A spark of awareness ignited in her, but she quickly tamped it down.
She turned away as the pontoon neared the pier. “I really hope you like this place. I’ll make sure to inquire about renting it out for the evening—if you enjoy it.”
“I’ll let you know.”
“It’s unique. The dining room is underwater. You definitely won’t have to worry about the paparazzi taking any photos through the windows, unless they’re into snorkeling.” She smiled broadly. “Anyway, it’s something to consider for the bachelor party. An underwater restaurant is not something you experience very often.”
“I’ll give it some thought. Lead the way.”
She led the way onto the pier and over to the restaurant’s entrance. To reach the dining room, they had to go down a flight of steps. The décor of the restaurant was much like what she imagined the interior of an old ship might be like, with wood beams and lanterns on the walls. It was cozy and most definitely unique.
They were immediately seated at a small table. The glow of a candle and fresh flowers added a romantic ambiance to the evening. Clara shifted uncomfortably in her chair. Maybe this was a mistake.
“What’s the matter?” Worry reflected in Andrew’s eyes.
“Nothing. Let’s go over the party plans.”
He continued to gaze at her as though he were reading her thoughts. “There’s definitely something bothering you.”
She needed a diversion. “It’s the chapel.”
“The chapel?” Worry lines creased his brow. “Isn’t it available for the wedding?”
“Oh, no, that isn’t what I meant. I’m just worried about its sale and its eventual demise.” And then she realized it felt good to open up to someone. “It’s my edge. It’s what makes me stand out from other wedding planners.”
“Is that what you really think?” Doubt echoed in his voice.
“I know the chapel needs a little bit of work, but even as it is now, it’s unique with all of its windows and hand-carved trim work—”
“That isn’t what I mean. Do you really think that’s why couples seek you out?” When she nodded, he continued, “As one of your clients, I can say the chapel is only a small part of it. Your edge is your passion for your work, your eye for details, and your willingness to listen to your clients. You are your edge. And don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”
Her eyes misted over. She blinked repeatedly to clear them. No one had ever said such touching words to her. She’d thank him, but she was all choked up.
Andrew reached out and touched her hand. “I meant every word I said.”
She swallowed hard. “Thank you. I never knew you thought so highly of me or my work.”
“And that’s my fault. In the past, I was so focused on my career that I was blind to everything else. I’m sorry I didn’t say it before, but I’ve always been proud of you and your work.”
She squeezed his hand as she blinked again. She hadn’t known until now how much those words would mean to her. And if she didn’t steer the conversation to a safer subject, she’d end up a blubbering mess, and that wouldn’t do for a professional wedding planner.
She gently cleared her throat. “I’d still like to preserve the chapel that united countless couples throughout the years.”
“Well, what can you offer the owner that would make you stand out from the other buyers?”
“Nothing.” She toyed with her linen napkin. “The beach front property will sell for millions, and I don’t have that kind of money. And before you say it, I know my family could afford to buy it, but I refuse to ask them. Even if I did, I don’t think they’d give me the money.”
He nodded. “I understand. But there has to be something else.” He leaned back in his chair, removing his hand from her own. “You’re friends with the owner, aren’t you?”
“I am. She’s the sweetest woman. Her grandfather and father built the chapel. And then it was passed down to her father and then to her and her husband. But they didn’t have any children, and there are no nieces or nephews. Now that she’s getting older, the property is too much for her.”
“So she’s not selling it for the money?”