Clara grabbed her purse. Her gaze caught his. “Thank you for the ice cream. You’ve been very sweet. I don’t deserve it. But I really do have to go.”
Each day he thought up a new excuse to visit her. Most days he was able to think of something to inquire about with either the wedding or the bachelor party. He’d made himself available to his brother and his bride to run errands since he was in San Francisco and they were in LA.
Being on the go was so much better than thinking about how much he’d sacrificed—and for what? A career that had ended when he’d had his accident. Sure, he could find a new position, but now that he was out of the frantic-paced, all-consuming job, he wasn’t sure he wanted it back. It was still under consideration.
“I know.” He moved to the doorway. “You can eat it on the way.”
She shook her head. “There’s no way I can eat it and drive.”
“Then let me drive. My car is right out front.”
Her eyes widened. “Do you think of everything?”
“I try to. Come on. There’s a spoon in the bag and napkins. You’re all set.”
“I don’t know—”
“Afterward, perhaps you could show me the way to the Golden Gate. Would you believe that I’ve been here all of this time and have yet to visit it?” Clara frowned, definitely not the reaction that he’d been hoping for. “Is there something wrong with the bridge?”
“Not that I know of, but I can’t go. After stopping by Gabi’s, I have an appointment with a new client.”
“Oh.” He was starting to realize how she must have felt when they were together—when he spent almost every waking moment working. It didn’t feel good—not at all. He felt awful for making her feel like an afterthought.
“But I’ll take the ice cream. Hopefully, it won’t melt right away, and I can eat it between meetings. I didn’t get a chance to have lunch.” She moved next to him, lifted up on her tiptoes, and pressed a kiss to his cheek, sending his heart racing. Before he could pull her close and taste her sweet lips, she moved away. She paused at the doorway and turned back. “Just use the GPS on your phone. It’ll get you to the bridge.”
“I’ll do that. Good luck.”
“Thanks. I’ll need it.”
So far things were going well between him and Clara, but she still insisted on keeping him at arm’s length. He knew she didn’t want to be hurt again, but could there be more to her distance? He glanced down at his leg. She hadn’t seemed to be put off by his injury. Maybe he was just being supersensitive about it. After all, there were many reasons for her to want to keep her distance.
Perhaps she was just too tired to think about romance. As Hugh and Tula’s wedding grew closer, Andrew noticed Clara’s face looked paler and shadows were cast beneath her eyes. She was working too hard and worrying about inconsequential details for the wedding. She needed to loosen up and take a break. And he had an idea to get her to relax, though it would take a bit of arranging. But thanks to his father, he was able to work a bit of magic. He was certain if his father were around, he would approve of Andrew’s plan.
Only one more week to go.
And everything was going according to plan.
How was that possible?
Sitting cross-legged on her living room floor, Clara gazed down at the invitation list.
Warning bells were going off in her head. Ever since Tula had selected the wedding dress, the rest of the preparations had gone smoothly—too smoothly. She’d worked on a lot of weddings between San Francisco and DC, and there was always a flurry of last-minute changes.
She knew she shouldn’t court trouble where there was none, but she just couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t quite right. She yawned. Then again, maybe it was her tired mind playing tricks on her.
After a large gulp of coffee, she forced her attention back to the invitations. Why exactly had she volunteered to address each one, especially when it wasn’t part of her services?
Oh, yes, to keep her celebrity client happy. It was a good thing she’d taken a class in calligraphy a few years back.
The elaborate purple and pearl invitations were to be hand-delivered by an army of couriers the day before the ceremony. Tula had already made sure the guests had saved the day for a preview party for her new film. Clara couldn’t imagine what it must be like to have to outsmart the paparazzi in order to have a little privacy.
The first of the wedding festivities was taking place tonight. Clara hoped the bachelor party went off without a hitch. And considering her phone hadn’t rung, she was going with the saying thatno news was good news.
Buzz-buzz.
Perhaps she’d spoken too soon.
She reached for her phone sitting on the glass coffee table. Before she could say a word, she heard, “Clara, thank goodness. I need your help.”