One Foolish Night
Page 20

 Tina Folsom

  • Background:
  • Text Font:
  • Text Size:
  • Line Height:
  • Line Break Height:
  • Frame:
Holly pivoted, and with her head held high, she marched out of the bank. Only when she’d walked three blocks and turned a corner did she lean against a building and take a deep breath.
She resisted the tears that threatened to overwhelm her. No, she would not cry. She was stronger than that. This was only a temporary setback. Maybe some other bank would give her a loan. Or maybe she could work out a different deal with the owner of the matchmaking business.
Holly sighed. It was all wishful thinking. She knew the owner wanted to retire and needed the cash Holly would pay for the business. And her own bank had been her best bet in the first place. A bank she had no prior relationship with wouldn’t even look at her application. She had no collateral, except for the matchmaking business once it was hers. But that wasn’t enough. She was nearly out of savings. Another month or two and she would have to take any job she could find, just to keep herself afloat. And once her pregnancy started to show, nobody would hire her.
What would she do now?
She closed her eyes, wishing she could turn back time. But there was no such thing as a time machine she could use to transport herself back and undo all the mistakes she’d made. She had to live with those mistakes and make the best of it.
Her cell phone buzzed in her handbag, so she pulled it out and looked at the display. It was a New York number, but she didn’t know it. Was Sabrina calling her from somewhere other than her home or cell phone?
Curious, Holly answered. “This is Holly.”
“Holly, it’s Paul. Paul Gilbert.”
Her breath caught in her throat, and her heart stopped beating. Unable to speak, she tried to pull air into her lungs.
“Holly? Are you there?”
“Yes.”
“We need to talk.”
“Talk?” she repeated, sounding like a parrot in her own ears.
“Yes, about something personal. Something important.”
A spark of hope blossomed in her chest. Had he changed his mind about her? Did he regret the way things had ended between them? “Okay. Then talk.”
“In person. I’m in San Francisco. Can we meet?”
Her heart beat with excitement. Paul had come to San Francisco. To see her! “Yes.”
Yes, she wanted to see him, because despite the things he’d said to her, despite what had happened, she hadn’t been able to forget him. With his baby growing inside her, she doubted that she would ever truly be able to forget him.
“Yes, we can meet,” she repeated.
She looked into the sun and smiled. Maybe this day would end on a positive note after all.
9
He shouldn’t feel nervous, but he was. Not the sweaty palms kind of nervous, but the heart-racing kind of nervous. At least that meant it wouldn’t show on the outside. He would be the only one who knew. Holly would be oblivious to his state of mind, as long as he could remain cool on the surface.
Paul checked his reflection in a window. He wore a business suit and looked as if he was going to a business meeting. Well, he was. After all, this would be a business arrangement, nothing more, nothing less.
Excuses, excuses, the little devil sitting on his shoulder said. We both know what you really want.
Paul clenched his teeth and ignored the voice. With a steadying breath, he opened the door to the coffee shop and entered. The scent of freshly brewed coffee instantly put him at ease. He’d always loved that particular smell. It made him feel relaxed and reminded him of sitting on a terrace in the early morning and looking out at the water, watching the fishermen go out on their boats. Though today this particular image was quickly replaced by another.
Holly sat at a small table in one corner, sipping a latte. Her back was stiff and her hands appeared to be holding her coffee cup too tightly—proof positive that she’d already spotted him, and was obviously apprehensive about seeing him again.
Could he really blame her? After the way he’d treated her two months ago, he was surprised that she’d even agreed to meet him.
Bypassing the barista’s station, he walked straight to Holly’s table and sat down opposite her. “Hi, Holly.”
She looked at him, not releasing her hold on her cup, as if it were a lifesaver. “Paul.”
“How have you been?”
“Why are you here?”
Apparently Holly wasn’t interested in small talk. Fine. He’d get to the point quickly. “There’s something I want to discuss with you.”
She raised an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything.
Shifting in his chair, he searched for the right words, realizing that he should have practiced his speech before coming here. He felt woefully unprepared for this, and he would bungle the entire thing if he didn’t use the right words. “I . . . I need your help.”