Читать книгу Blossom Street Bundle (Books 1-5) - Debbie Macomber - Страница 56

ALIX TOWNSEND

Alix put the finishing touches on her crème brûlée and stepped back to give her instructor a chance to grade her work. Mr. Diamont moved forward and studied it with a discerning eye, then tapped the burnt sugar crust. He tasted the creamy custard beneath and nodded approvingly. He turned in her direction. “Nice job, Alix. You may go.”

Alix stared at her teacher, certain that she hadn’t heard him correctly. She didn’t wait long, however, but removed her hat and apron and hurried out of the class. Praise from Diamont was as rare as discretionary cash.

Her budget was tight and would be for the next year of the two-year program. Alix had lived on far less. The lack of money didn’t bother her because she was doing something she loved. Cooking. For years she’d dreamed of attending cooking school, but the tuition costs were as high as a college education. It would’ve continued to be far beyond her means if not for her friends Jacqueline and Reese Donovan.

Alix had met Reese shortly after Carol and Doug adopted Laurel’s baby. Reese had lots of prominent friends; through his connections he was able to steer her toward a scholarship program offered by a local service club. And if that wasn’t enough, Jacqueline had insisted Alix live in their guest house while she attended school. Their housekeeper had recently retired and now Alix had a house-cleaning job that supplied her with enough money to pay for her basic needs.

All of this seemed too good to believe. Every now and then, Alix had to pinch herself to prove this was real. To make sure it was happening to her, Alix Townsend.

Once she’d changed out of her uniform, Alix called Jordan’s cell from the pay phone in the locker room.

“Hi,” she said when he answered.

“Finished for the day?” He seemed to have been waiting for her call.

“Mr. Diamont said I could go.”

“Already? You must’ve done all right.”

“I must have,” she said, biting her lip to keep from bragging. There’d be plenty of time for that when she was out of earshot of the other students.

“I wonder what it would take to bribe you into making crème brûlée for me,” he said playfully. “It is my favorite dessert.”

“Oh, I don’t know, but I’ll bet I could think of something.”

“I’ll bet you could, too. Should I pick you up?”

“If you want.” His days were busy, and it was a lot to ask of him. Normally she wouldn’t phone but she’d been worried about this test and he’d asked her to let him know how she’d done. “I can always take the bus,” she said now.

“I’m on my way.”

She waited outside the Seattle Cooking Academy for about ten minutes before Jordan’s car approached. They’d been dating nearly a year now, and she’d grown accustomed to having him in her life—accustomed to a lot of things. He’d even managed to talk her into attending church on a regular basis. For the first time she felt like a normal person who lived a normal life with people around her who cared and wanted her to succeed. She figured Jordan was right. God hadn’t given up on her.

Jordan parked at the curb, and leaned across the seat to open the passenger door. Alix slid inside and they kissed briefly. Jordan checked his rearview mirror, then merged with the traffic.

“I don’t suppose you remember what today is?” he asked nonchalantly.

Alix wracked her brain but could think of nothing. “Is May sixth supposed to have some significance?”

“It doesn’t to you?” He tossed her a hurt-little-boy look.

“Apparently not.”

Jordan grinned and pretended to be absorbed by the flow of downtown Seattle traffic. “That was the first day you flashed your baby blues at me at the video store.”

“My eyes are brown!”

“Whatever,” he said in the same flippant voice she’d so often used with him. “You honestly don’t remember?

It was May sixth when I saw you standing outside the video store, smoking. I was minding my own business, going in to rent a video, when you interrupted me with some weak excuse.”

“I set aside a video for you.”

“You were making eyes at me.”

“Making eyes at you?” she snorted. “You’re dreaming.” She looked at him with mock scorn, but it pleased her beyond measure that he’d recalled such a minute detail of their relationship.

“So I figure today is something of an anniversary for us.”

“Us, is it?” she asked, loving every second of this banter between them.

“You are my girlfriend, aren’t you?”

“And your chef.”

“That, too.”

She shrugged as if it was of little consequence. “I guess.”

“In that case, you might want to check out the little box in my glove compartment.”

All at once it felt as if they were flying instead of driving. “A box in the glove compartment for me?”

“Take a look.”

Her hand trembled as she opened the compartment. Sure enough, a small black jeweler’s case with a bright red bow was nestled in among the owner’s manual and the car registration papers. She pulled it out and held it in the palm of her hand.

“What’s inside?” she asked. She couldn’t help it; she sounded breathless.

“Go ahead and see,” Jordan said.

The banter was gone, and the car seemed to grow suddenly warm and airless.

When she didn’t immediately comply, he prodded her. “Well? What’s holding you back? Open the box!”

“It’s a very pretty box.”

“Thank you, but what’s inside is even prettier.”

Alix removed the bow and then with exaggerated care lifted the lid. Inside was a lovely ring with a ruby and two small diamonds, one on either side.

“Jordan.” She said his name on a single lengthy breath. “It’s beautiful.”

“I thought so, too.”

“But … why?”

“Didn’t I just remind you it’s been a year since we linked up?”

“Yes, I know, but …” If he made her cry Alix didn’t think she’d forgive him.

“Try it on.”

She slipped it out and placed it on her finger. The fit was perfect.

“It’s official now,” Jordan said.

“What is?”

“You and me.”

She wanted to tell him she didn’t need a ring—however lovely—to prove that. But she only smiled.

“Next year for our anniversary,” he continued, “after you’ve graduated from cooking school, I’d like to replace that with a diamond engagement ring. What would you think?”

The tears did come then. “I think that’d be just fine,” she whispered. “Now would you stop this car so I can show you how damn much I love you?”

“That,” said Jordan, “can be arranged.”