Romantic Negotiations—conclusion
Ron waited in the foyer, casual in dark
jeans, turtleneck, and charcoal jacket. He looked good. The spark in his hazel
eyes said, “Right back at you.” He kissed Letitia’s cheeks and her stomach
unclenched.
Gentleman personified, Ron cupped
Letitia’s elbow to steer her in the hostess’s wake and held out her chair for
her. He sat and looked at her, mouth bowed. “Prettiest girl in the room.”
Letitia laughed at his gallantry. She
knew the peach sweater and dark tan slacks complemented her golden brown hair
and eyes. “Tell me you brought pictures of your little cherub.” That seemed a
safe start to the conversation.
Ron grinned, obviously besotted by his
granddaughter. He set his phone and passed it to Letitia. She scrolled through
quite a collection of shots, her expression softening when she came to those of
Ron holding a pink bundle.
He slid a hand over hers. His smile
slipped and Letitia felt hers die. “Lettie, you understand the ebbs and flows
of corporate America, the time demands to stay on top of your game. We’ve cut
short our nights together when one or the other had an early meeting; had to
cancel a couple of times due to deadlines. Being part of our children’s lives
requires time.”
Ron pulled back and a twinge of
uncertainty crossed his face. Letitia braced, hand flat on the white
tablecloth, unable to move. Ron replaced the phone in his jacket, turned her
hand over, and gently pressed a key, warm from his body, into her palm.
“You have the key to my heart.” The
cliché brought out an endearing, embarrassed smile that gave way to serious
intent. “This is the key to my place and a promise to make time for a future
together. What do you think?”
Letitia glowed as Ron lifted her hand to
his lips.
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