Storybook Love: A Storybook Park Romance Page 11

  * * * *

  Before dinner, Jon and Rebecca shared a bottle of wine in their suite. They stood at the window looking out onto the city. The rain had moved on to the north. Out on the estuary, a parade of boats passed by, their lights twinkling in the clear night.

  “Just so you know, the diner is my usual speed. But it’s nice to splurge once in a while.” Jon kissed her cheek and stroked her bun of curls.

  She nodded in agreement. “I feel so special.”

  “I hope by now you know that’s how I think of you. I am very, very taken with you, Rebecca.”

  She gazed at his profile, wondering how she could have ever doubted him. She’d never felt this way about a man before, even Mark, as if she and Jon were fated to meet at Storytown, the place she’d loved her whole life. Yes, they’d had their problems and misunderstandings, but now they were together. Except....

  “Jon,” she whispered.

  He kissed the top of her head. “Yes, my sweetheart?”

  “I don’t know if I can handle a long-distance relationship.”

  With his lips still buried in her hair, he murmured, “I don’t know if I can, either.” He lifted his mouth away and turned her toward him. “It appears we have some things to work out, doesn’t it?”

  She nodded and took his hand to lead him to the couch. He settled against a pillow, and she sat next to him, her legs tucked beneath her.

  Rebecca said, “But let’s not think about it now. I’m just happy to be with you.”

  He grinned. “Likewise. Think you’re ready for dinner?”

  Her stomach growled in response. She groaned. “Not again. How embarrassing!”

  He patted her knee. “Just one more thing about you to love.”

  She regarded him slowly. Was he saying he loved her?

  “Let’s go.” He smiled at her, and stood up. He grabbed her hands and pulled her to her feet. Laughing, they locked up the room and headed for the elevator.

  * * * *

  They started with the lobster bisque, and Rebecca was sure she’d never tasted anything so delicious in her life. But then again, she could be eating the Storytown shoe and still think it was good. All her worries had left her, and she floated in a light and dreamy state. This night exceeded any she’d ever had. She was in a beautiful hotel on New Year’s Eve with a great-looking man who seemed to understand her and care about her for more than just her looks. Despite her initial assumptions, Jon cared about other people and wasn’t driven by material concerns. What more could she possibly want? Yes, she had no idea what the future held, and she and Jon had things to work out, but wasn’t it time she started appreciating the moment? Wasn’t it her turn to take life a little less seriously and concentrate on enjoying herself?

  She and Jon held hands all through the second course, an arugula and red romaine salad with bleu cheese vinaigrette dressing.

  Rebecca said in between bites, “You know what I’ve been meaning to ask you?”

  “What’s that?”

  “Where did you learn to play the saxophone so well?”

  He laughed. “Payback, pure and simple. When I was a child, my parents made me take piano and violin lessons, which I loathed. So as an adult, I took up the sax. Mostly, I taught myself, but I’ve taken a few lessons too.”

  “You’re very talented. If they need a saxophonist tonight, they can use you.”

  He brought her hand to his mouth and kissed it. “Thank you, you little minx.”

  “Minx?”

  “You are so incredibly beautiful in that dress. And I have never seen your eyes sparkle so much.” He paused. “But you are also smart and funny and—”

  She cut him off, “It’s okay, Jon. I like your compliments. I’m glad you think I’m pretty. It’s just that….”

  “What, sweetheart?”

  “I’ve only had one serious relationship, and I’m fairly sure he was with me just because of the way I look. He left me for another woman—a friend of mine, actually. That’s why…why I’ve been hesitant about your compliments.”

  Jon shook his head. “What an idiot that guy must have been. He had no idea what he had. But, fortunately, his loss is my gain.” He massaged her hand with his fingertips.

  She smiled and closed her hand around his fingers in a light squeeze.

  “Tell me something more pleasant,” he said. “Tell me a story about your grandmother.”

  “Oh, wow, I wouldn’t even know where to begin.”

  “How about a time you went to Storytown with her?”

  “There was this one time. My parents had just had a terrible fight—that wasn’t particularly unusual in itself. Leslie and I were in the room, but they didn’t seem to notice—or care. My mother threw a full carton of milk at Dad. If it hadn’t been so awful, it would have been comic. Milk dripped down his hair, and his suit was drenched. Some even got into his eye. But he didn’t say anything. He just went up to the bedroom to change, and then left for work without telling any of us goodbye.” She stopped to take a bite of salad and to sip her water.

  “This doesn’t sound like a very good memory.”

  “But it turned out to be. Les and I were on Christmas vacation, and Gran was coming to take us to Storytown. She somehow knew something had gone on because she was especially nice to us. She bought us those candy necklaces—do you know the ones? We still sell them at the shoe. She let us ride on the Ferris wheel three times in a row. And Les and I kept laughing at things, over and over. I don’t think anything was actually funny. I guess we were just relieving tension from the morning.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “No, it’s okay. My parents’ marriage was a mess. They never should have gotten together, just like I should have never been with Mark. But I’m over all that now.” She forked a piece of lettuce and stopped with it halfway to her mouth. She was over it, wasn’t she?

  “Are you sure?”

  Uncertain of how to answer, she looked away from Jon and gazed around the restaurant. She caught sight of a man who bore a striking resemblance to her brother-in-law, and she had to look twice to be sure it wasn’t Dave. She sighed as she thought of her sister’s failed marriage. She knew Leslie was going to be alone tonight, because Milton was spending the night at a friend’s.

  “Becca?”

  She leaned in and whispered, “That man over there looks like my brother-in-law. The jerk.”

  “Your sister’s husband? Why is he a jerk?”

  Rebecca shook her head. “I guess I never told you. Les and Dave separated soon after Thanksgiving—he told her he was in love with someone else. It’s been incredibly hard on her and my nephew.”

  They were silent for the next several minutes.

  Finally, Jon asked, “Are you okay? Can you tell me what you’re thinking about?”

  “I’m fine…I just feel badly for my sister.”

  “Is that all? Or are you afraid it could happen to you again, too?”

  She shrugged without answering.

  “Becca, I care about you. I’m not going to hurt you. I’m not your father, your ex, or your brother-in-law. It must seem to you that all men treat women badly, but they don’t. At least, I don’t.”

  She nodded and looked into his eyes. She had no doubt he told her the truth. Her heart pounded insistently. A realization swept through her like a tornado, ready to push her off her feet. She was in love, truly and deeply in love! So this was what it felt like. Crazy and wondrous and comforting, all at the same time. She shivered at the revelation, wrapped her arms around herself, and shook her head a few times in amazement.

  “Rebecca? Where did you go? Are you cold?”

  She yanked herself out of her daze. “Right here, I’m right here. I’m fine.”

  “How about getting the rest of our dinner to go and finishing in the suite?” Jon asked. “Then we can rest a while before the dance.”

  “That sounds perfect.” She realized her mouth gaped open, and she closed it. She wanted to scream her
feelings out loud, but she restrained herself. In love! She loved Jon! Did he feel the same way about her? How could she find out?? Should she ask?

  * * * *

  Ten minutes later, the two cuddled on the couch, sharing another bottle of wine and feeding each other scampi and chocolate cake. Rebecca had shamelessly gone for the cake first, but Jon had insisted she have some shrimp, too.

  Jon took away Rebecca’s plate, which she’d been balancing on her lap, and placed it on the coffee table. He drew up closer to her on the couch and kissed the back of her neck and nibbled her earlobe. His aftershave filled her nostrils with its heady scent, and she breathed it in. She dabbed some chocolate frosting onto his lips and very slowly licked it off.

  She found herself letting go. The wine, the food, and her earlier epiphany were taking her to a place she rarely visited—a place of deep relaxation and contentment. She was ready for whatever was to come.

  “Would you excuse me for a minute?” she whispered in between kisses.

  “If I must.” He kissed her three times before releasing her.

  Rebecca found her overnight bag and took out her toiletries and the teddy. She padded into the bathroom. After brushing her teeth and applying fresh lipstick, she undressed and stepped into the lingerie. She stared at herself in the full-length mirror on the back of the door and bit her lip. Lots of cleavage showing! She adjusted the thong in back and turned around. Not much coverage there, either. Still, she looked pretty good. She was glad of her ballet workouts, even the ones she’d forced herself to finish when she hadn’t wanted to. She tiptoed out of the bathroom, searched for the high heels she’d kicked off earlier, and eased them on. Finally, she shook her curls out of the bun. With a deep breath, she returned to the other room and pirouetted in front of Jon.

  His eyes grew wide. “Oh, my God. Rebecca.” He stood, took her hands, and turned her around, admiring her from every angle. “You are incredible.”

  She met his eyes as boldly as she could. “Come with me.” All the while marveling at her bravado, she led him to the bed.

  * * * *

  Rebecca woke to the sound of Jon whispering in her ear, “Sweetheart, I want to dance with you.”

  She opened her eyes to find him gazing down at her with his dimples flashing. “How long have I been asleep?”

  “About twenty minutes. The dance has started. Not that I mind the reason for us being late.”

  She stretched. “Neither do I. Jon, that was wonderful.” Love for him filled her every pore. Did he feel the same? Would he tell her he loved her? She waited expectantly.

  “It was wonderful. Now will you come dance with me?” He rose, did a quick waltz step, and reached for her hand.

  She looked at his naked form and giggled. “We should probably get dressed first.”

  “Right. Almost forgot.”

  * * * *

  As they counted down the seconds to midnight, Rebecca stared at Jon. Another surge of love for him rushed through her. She hadn’t expected to fall in love, especially with him, but she was so happy she had. If only she knew if he loved her too. She started to tell him how she felt, but shyness overcame her.

  Right at midnight, Jon took her in his arms, dipped her, and kissed her deeply.

  Once they came up for air, he said, “I’m beginning the year with you, and I can’t imagine anything better than ending the year with you, too. And for every year that follows, now that I think about it. Promise me you’ll begin and end every year here in my arms.”

  She kissed his cheek and took his earlobe into her mouth. She whispered, “I used to think Storytown was my favorite place in the world. But this is my favorite place in the world.”

  “The Fullerton Hotel?”

  “No...in your arms.”

  He responded to her pronouncement by kissing her soundly.

  * * * *

  On New Year’s Day, they slept until eleven. They’d danced until one, when the band finally stopped playing. Back in the suite, Jon had swept Rebecca into his arms and carried her to the bed for a reprise of their earlier activities. They didn’t get to sleep until nearly two-thirty.

  They ordered coffee from room service and lounged in bed, arms wrapped around each other.

  “I could get used to this,” Jon said.

  “Me, too.”

  “Come take a shower with me.”

  “Now?”

  “Why not? You have other plans? The coffee won’t be here for fifteen minutes.”

  In the shower, Rebecca lifted her face to the warm water. Jon stepped in behind her.

  “Turn around,” he commanded, and he soaped her breasts and between her legs.

  “I have other parts, you know.”

  “Ah, but these are my favorites.”

  “At least wash my hair, will you?” He obliged by massaging shampoo deep into her curls. She shivered at his gentle touch.

  At twelve, they headed down to the New Year’s buffet on the first floor. Jon teased Rebecca about her huge plate of food, though his was just as full.

  “I figure we worked it off with the dancing and everything else,” she teased back.

  They shared a leisurely meal of omelettes, bacon, sausages, hash browns, and pastries. At two, they reluctantly packed their things, checked out of the hotel, and stepped outside to wait for the limo. Back at Storytown, Jon hugged Rebecca at length before letting her get into her car. He promised to call as soon as he could.

  * * * *

  Home again, Rebecca walked around in a haze. She unpacked her things slowly, lingering over the black teddy. It had certainly done the trick. She couldn’t wait to tell Sara…but maybe she wouldn’t tell her everything.

  She checked her watch. Jon’s plane left in an hour. She had expected him to call, but she hadn’t heard from him yet. Oh, well. He was probably busy with security lines—no doubt he’d call when he got home to New York.

  She found a collection of fairy tales in the bookcase and settled onto the love seat. She immersed herself in the stories of Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty, and Beauty and the Beast. Maybe happily ever after did exist. She’d never thought she could fall in love so deeply and completely. Her feelings for Jon were certainly different than any she’d ever had for Mark. Her life was now entwined with Jon’s. Even if things didn’t work out, he would forever be in her heart. But she certainly hoped it would work out.

  Chapter 12

  Rebecca read over her newly-written press release a half dozen times searching for typos, but she was incapable of absorbing any of the words. Jon still hadn’t called. She thought he’d call once he returned to New York, or, at the latest, by today. She desperately wanted to hear his voice.

  He’d never said he loved her, but she was sure he did. He was the kind of man who wouldn’t make love to a woman with such tenderness and passion if he didn’t have those feelings. He would tell her soon that he loved her, and then she would tell him how she felt too.

  She looked out the window at the merry-go-round, recalling the day she’d seen Jon there with Lauren. How far they’d come since then! If only their plans for the future weren’t so vague. They’d talked about it a little in the limo on the way back to Storytown. Jon had promised to come to California often, but it would have to be on the weekends when she had to work. She could fly to New York on her days off, but with the park in such a precarious state, she didn’t have the money, and she didn’t feel comfortable asking Jon for the fare. So for the near future at least, their relationship would have to be long-distance. She sighed and returned to her work.

  * * * *

  By the following morning, Rebecca still hadn’t heard from Jon, and her stomach churned with anxiety. Finally, she dialed his cell phone number. His voice mail picked up, and she left a message asking him to call as soon as he could. She reassured herself he’d call within a few hours, and she returned to her paperwork.

  But, by closing time, there was still no word. She dialed Jon’s cell phone number again. The voice
mail picked up, and she left another message, trying not to sound overly needy. That done, she let the receiver fall back clumsily into its cradle.

  “Bec? What’s wrong?” Sara asked, looking up from the letter she was typing.

  “I can’t reach Jon. He never called me, and now he’s not answering my calls or returning my messages.”

  “That’s weird. Do you think there’s something wrong?”

  “I don’t know,” Rebecca said and bit her lip. She was experiencing a severe case of déjà vu. This was eerily similar to what she’d gone through with Mark when he’d left her for her friend.

  “Have you been trying him on his cell phone?”

  Rebecca nodded.

  “Have you tried him at home?”

  “No,” Rebecca said. “I guess I can do that.” She flipped through her phone book, found what she needed, and dialed Jon’s number at his New York apartment. The voice mail switched on with a message wishing callers a Happy New Year. That meant Jon had most likely made it home to New York without incident. She disconnected without leaving a message, the feeling of déjà vu increasing.

  “I’m sure he’ll call tonight,” Sara said, but she sounded doubtful.

  * * * *

  Early the next morning, Rebecca wiped away the tears coursing down her cheeks and phoned Sara. She told her assistant she wasn’t feeling well, and Sara agreed to cover for her for the day. Rebecca collapsed onto her bed and fell into a tortured sleep.

  The doorbell woke her a few hours later. She bolted upright, her heart pounding. Jon? She tiptoed to the front door to peer through the peephole and was half-disappointed and half-relieved to see a distorted version of her sister’s face. She undid the locks and opened the door.