Listen to Your Heart - Fern Michaels [22]
“No problem. Tell Harry I said hi.”
“Will do.”
Josie was more nervous than a cat in a rainstorm. How could one date reduce her to this state? “Oh, Mom, I wish you were here. You’d know the answer. You’d say just the right thing, and I’d calm down. I did a bubble bath, washed my hair, shaved my legs. Don’t ask me why. I’m wearing a great outfit, sexy shoes, lacy underwear—not that it matters—and I look good. My perfume is supposed to reduce men to blithering idiots. All of that should put me in control. I should feel confident and . . . vital. I’m a jumble of nerves. What will I talk about? First dates are so . . . stressful. What if I can’t keep up my end of the conversation ? He’s got long hair, Mom. You know me, I blurt. I know I’m going to put my foot in it. God, I wish you were here,” Josie muttered as she sat down on the edge of the bed. From somewhere faraway, she heard the words to a song she recognized, “You are so beautiful.” Kitty must have come in and put the stereo on. She stood up, her legs shaking as she walked to the window. The lights were still on in the test kitchen. That mean Kitty wasn’t in the house. She whirled around and swore she smelled her mother’s lily of the valley cologne. A wave of dizziness washed over her. No music wafted up the long staircase. “Mom? It’s you, isn’t it?” She swiveled around and almost turned her ankle in the spike-heeled shoes. Her room looked the same, and it was just as quiet as before. Why would her mother’s spirit contact her now? Why now after all this time? Suddenly she wanted to cry, but if she cried, her mascara would run in black streaks down her cheeks. She glanced at her watch. Her imagination was working overtime. Time to go downstairs.
He was prompt. She had to give him that. But then weren’t businessmen usually prompt? She smiled a greeting, and suddenly everything felt right. Was it the approving look in his eye, or was it Rosie hovering about his ankles? Zip’s guardian. She watched as Paul bent down to pick up the little dog, who sniffed him furiously.
He grinned, showing glistening white teeth. “That’s so Zip will know I’ve seen his amoureuse.”
Josie smiled indulgently. “She’s never faraway from his likeness. She seems to prefer it to her Beanie Baby. Until you and your dog came along, she was never without it.”
“Zip has lost all his zip. He just moons around. I took him with me today, and he didn’t even want to get out of the car. The same car he tore to shreds. By the way, that’s the car we’ll be driving in. I more or less trimmed the strips. It will have to go into the shop for repairs tomorrow. I hope you don’t mind riding in it. I put towels on the seats.”
“Not at all. I’m ready if you are.”
“I can’t tell you how I’ve been looking forward to this all day.”
Josie felt her chest puff up. Nothing shy about this guy.
“I used to go to the Commander’s Palace all the time when Paul Prudhomme headed up the kitchen. He served this wonderful trout with pecans. I’ve never tasted anything like it or half as good. I hope you won’t be disappointed.”
Josie’s chest unpuffed. He was talking about fish and nuts, not her. She was tempted to offer up a surly remark, but bit her tongue instead. “I have an excellent recipe for trout and pecans that’s all my own. We serve it with red grapes and a sweet vinaigrette. It won a prize.”
“Perhaps you’ll make it for me someday. You must be a very good cook to get the centerfold of Gourmet Party. Are you really so busy you’re turning business away?”
Damn. Now she was flustered. She could feel her neck and face heating up. If ever there was a time to tell him she couldn’t cook, this was that time. “Yes, we’re very busy. I have a waiting list if any cancellations come through. But then it’s always busy when it’s time for Mardi Gras. Then Easter and Mother’s Day are right around the corner. July and August are slow as a rule; then things pick up after Labor Day. You know what they say: feast or famine. By the