Chapter Twenty-Five
Natalie and Charlotte made it home in time to help me get ready for my date. For the first time in my life I was having the experiences I should’ve had. I imagined this was what it was like to have a mother and a sister. Natalie fussed over my hair and put it in a side bun. Charlotte painted my toe and fingernails a soft pink to match the gray floral sundress Natalie had picked out for me. Apparently light gray was also in my color wheel. Whatever that was.
All I knew was when I stared in the full-length mirror, not only did I look different, I felt different. I knew what it was. I’d felt it once before. Love in all forms is powerful. One might even say transformational. More than ever I wanted this in my life, whether it was Porter and his family or someone else. Though I was leaning heavily toward the Clairbornes. How could anyone be better than Natalie? She stood beaming behind me, looking me over as if I was a vision or something.
Natalie adjusted one of the spaghetti straps on my dress. “You are lovely. Are you sure you’ll be okay on your foot tonight?”
I nodded. I didn’t want to have crutches get in the way tonight.
“I’ll call Fiona and make sure she has a bag of ice ready just in case. And maybe you should bring your crutches even if you don’t end up using them,” Natalie fretted.
I wasn’t sure who Fiona was, but I assumed she worked at the resort’s restaurant.
“Momma,” Charlotte said from my bed she was sitting on while she texted furiously, “she’ll be fine. And if not, Porter can carry her. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind since he can’t keep his hands off her.”
Red blotches of skin popped up all over.
“Charlotte Luciana Clairborne,” Natalie scolded her daughter, “don’t embarrass Holland. But that does sound pretty romantic.”
I smiled at the two of them from the mirror.
“Did I hear someone say my name?” Porter barged into my room through the bathroom door, looking even more handsome than he did before. He’d swapped his gray button-down for a white dress shirt and black tie. He was holding a single red rose, but he also had what looked like a black equipment bag slung over his shoulder. That was odd.
“Porter.” Natalie sounded like she was ready to give another lecture on manners, but she stopped when Porter’s and my eyes met through the mirror. Natalie faded away into the background. Porter stood still, gazing at me as if he were starstruck. I couldn’t keep my eyes off him either.
“We should go, Charlotte.” Natalie rushed toward her daughter and grabbed her hand.
Charlotte was in no hurry. “Can you still help me later tonight with my prom posters?”
Porter nodded but never took his eyes off me.
“Let’s go.” Natalie tugged on her daughter’s hand, pulling her out the door as quick as she could.
We were alone.
I turned around to meet him face-to-face.
He took the invitation and in a few small strides he was to me. “You take my breath away.”
I looked down at the fitted bodice with a flowing skirt and a semi-revealing slit. “Do you like the dress?” I hadn’t owned a dress in forever.
He handed me the rose. “It’s perfect. You’re perfect.”
I took the rose and smelled it deeply. “No one’s perfect.”
He erased any distance between us. He stroked my cheek with the back of his hand while his lips danced above mine. “I beg to differ,” he whispered. “Are you ready to go?” I could hear him trying to exert self-control.
I was torn, part of me wishing he would give in and let his lips crush mine. “I’m ready.” I spoke in hushed tones.
His hot, sweet breath mingled between us. “Just know we will get reacquainted well enough tonight that I plan on a long . . . slow . . . good-night kiss.” His lips skimmed mine before he took a step back.
All I could do was nod my approval of that plan.
Before I knew it, there we were in valet parking and Porter was helping me out of his truck. He was still carrying that equipment bag. He had refused to tell me what was in it on our short drive over.
Porter tipped the valet while keeping ahold of my hand. He grinned at me while we walked toward the hotel lobby and all the way through it. His smile was contagious and I returned it. I hardly even noticed all the guests headed out or to various other locations in the hotel, whether it be the bar, the pool, or the courtyard. Porter consumed my senses. Not even the courtyard’s fountain I loved so much could hold my attention as we breezed by it on our way to the restaurant. Maybe breezing by was an overstatement. My ankle made it more like hobbling by. I had to take light, easy steps. At least the swelling had gone down, but it was turning nice shades of purple, green, and yellow.
When we entered Kouzína Anatolia, we were greeted by an elegant woman with the most beautiful long, gray hair braided to the side. She wasn’t wearing the “traditional” Clairborne attire, but rather a white wraparound dress. She kissed Porter’s cheek.
“You don’t know how thrilled I was to see your name on our reservations list. You’ve grown up to look like your father.” She spoke with a European accent. “This must be Holland.” She had a magnetic smile.
“The one and only.” Porter pulled me closer. “Holland, this is Fiona.”
I must not have hidden my surprise that she knew who I was when I held out my free hand to shake hers.
Fiona did take my hand, but she held it instead of shaking it. “Ah, yes, your reputation precedes you, darling. Everyone here has been talking about the return of the prodigal son and the beautiful woman who has captured his heart.”
Porter cringed at the title of prodigal son, but he was quick to recover with a compliment for me. “She lives up to her reputation.”
Fiona looked between the two of us. “I see that.”
I lowered my head, embarrassed by the attention.
Porter took notice. “Is our table ready?”
Fiona released my hand. “Of course. Follow me.”
The restaurant was filled with simple but beautiful tables and chairs. The chairs were particularly lovely with wrought iron designs gracing their backs. I took a moment to admire the sun wall. It was still as magnificent as ever. The restaurant smelled of sage and thyme with a hint of rosemary. It wasn’t as crowded as I expected it to be, which pained me. I hoped Porter could work his marketing magic.
Porter carefully led me through the restaurant, following Fiona, until we reached the patio with candlelit tables and a view of the Gulf. There were two other couples seated on the patio. They hardly paid us a glance, as it should be. Each couple was lost in each other. How could they not be, in such a romantic setting? We were seated in the far corner away from the other two couples.
“Here we are.” Fiona waved at the table. “Just like you requested. Let me know if you need anything else. Your server should be out momentarily.” She gave us a wistful smile before departing.
Porter held out my chair for me. He kissed my cheek after I was seated, leaving a warm imprint. He set his bag on an empty seat at our table.
“I don’t remember Fiona. How long has she worked here?”
He unzipped his bag. “I’ve known her ever since I can remember. She was a friend of my grandmother’s. I think she came to work here a few years ago when her husband passed away. She doesn’t need the money; she only does it to get out of the house, from what my dad says.”
“Where is she originally from?” I tried to sneak a peek into his bag.
Porter chuckled and moved to block my view. “I think Portugal.”
“What are you hiding from me?”
“I’m not hiding anything from you. I’m thinking of the best way to tell you about what’s in the bag and how it will help.”
My interest was piqued. “Just be honest with me.”
He turned toward me with a soft expression. “I wish I would’ve been from the beginning.”
“Me too.”
“Going forward I always will be.”
“So what’s in the bag?” I smiled.
He matched my smile with one of his own. “Okay. Promise me you’ll keep an open mind.”
“I promise.”
With great hesitation, he pulled out what looked like a digital video recorder and set it on the table. I eyed it warily. He noticed my wide eyes. “Remember, open mind.”
“What do you have in mind?”
“Nothing as nefarious as your tone seems to indicate.” He was holding back a laugh.
“This is a first for me.”
“You’ve never had a date film you?”
I pressed my lips together, worried. “Do you normally film your dates?”
That laugh he’d been holding back came out . . . until he thought about it. “Wait. Do you think I make private home videos of them?”
“Is that a nice way of saying porn?”
“Holland, no.” He moved his equipment bag to the chair across from me and sat in the seat instead. He cupped my face with his hands. “That’s not me at all. I would especially never do you that dishonor.”
I breathed a sigh of relief.
“I’m not the party guy portrayed on social media.”
“Who are you then?”
He stole a kiss. “I’m glad you asked. In fact, there are a lot of questions to be answered tonight.”
I tilted my head while still in his gentle grasp.
“I’ve prepared a very long list of questions that you and I will each answer over dinner and dessert, and if I’m lucky, long into the night.”
“I could do that,” I stuttered. “Where does the camera come in?”
He took a deep breath and reached for his camera, holding it now instead of me. “You asked me earlier how it went with my dad. Well, he really liked the concept of Falling in Love at the Clairborne.”
“That’s great.”
Porter gave me a strained smile. “Yeah,” he didn’t sound so sure. “He doesn’t want anything flashy though. He isn’t all that impressed with my vlogs. He finds them distasteful.” He couldn’t hide the hurt in his voice.
“I’m sorry, Porter.”
“Don’t be. I have some other ideas of how to make this work.”
“You still haven’t told me exactly what ‘this’ is.”
He peered into my eyes and swiped my bangs. “I want to show the world why I fell in love with you.”
My pulse raced at the mention of the L word again. “I still don’t get it.”
“In addition to revamping the Clairborne’s online presence, we are going to run a campaign with real couples that have fallen in love at the Clairborne or been married here. My dad is having his admin assistant compile a list from old registries and email lists for us to reach out to. I’m also talking to our events coordinator to see if she has any memorable couples she would recommend. We’re asking people to submit their love stories to us.”
“I love that idea.”
“I’m happy to hear that, because my dad has already approved our story.”
“Our story?”