WE ARE THRILLED TO WELCOME FIRST TIME GUEST AUTHOR, TINA GRIFFITH, WHO IS SHARING AN EXCERPT FROM HER WORK IN PROGRESS 'WEDNESDAY MOURNING'. #RWRTeamBlog #ReadWriteRepeat
They arrived at Don Ameche’s Italian Restaurant eighteen minutes later. Milo stepped out of the car and hurried to open Miranda’s door. He held out his hand, strong and warm, and she placed hers in his. And as she got out, he brushed his thumb against her knuckles.
Inside the entrance, the room glowed with amber lanterns and deep red tablecloths. Her eyes closed and her shoulders lifted as she inhaled the thick scent of garlic, basil, and freshly baked bread. Soft romantic music drifted from hidden speakers, and blended with the clatter of dishes and the low murmur of conversation. Her eyes fluttered opened and moved slowly across the room, making sure to capture every charming detail.
“Do you like it?” Milo asked in a low, husky voice. He leaned slightly toward her and watched her expression.
She nodded and continued to absorb the atmosphere. Then her lips parted in a small, awed smile. “It’s beautiful,” she whispered, but her voice was barely louder than the music.
Milo watcher her with quiet admiration, and his head tilted as though he couldn’t help but study her reaction. “Not half as beautiful as you are,” he whispered.
She turned to him fully. “Are you flirting with me?” Her eyebrows lifted in playful disbelief and her heart pulsed with joy.
A faint blush crept up Milo’s neck. He dipped his head and his gaze dropped for a moment, and then he looked back at her with a shy smile. “Maybe…”
She giggled, and when she swung her head in the opposite direction, her hair bounced against her shoulders in a light, playful cascade. She brushed a loose strand away from her cheek while her sparkling eyes tried to hide her delightful smile.
Milo watched as her head turned back, and his lips parted ever so slightly as though the sight of her caught him off guard. His eyes followed the movement of her hair, then returned to her face with a warmth he couldn’t disguise.
For a heartbeat, they simply looked at each other, until someone approached with heels tapping softly against the floor.
A tall hostess, wearing a loose-fitting black dress that fell just above her knees, stepped forward with a professional smile. “Good evening.”
Miranda blinked, as if she was waking up from a gentle daydream, and watched as Milo shifted his weight and offered the hostess a polite nod.
After finding the reservation on the list, she retrieved four menus and stepped away from her small desk. “Your table is ready, so if you’d like to follow me...”
They walked side by side as they were shown to a round table near the back – it was intimate, tucked away in a corner, and just the right size for four people.
“Thank you,” Miranda said as she chose her seat.
Milo pulled out her chair, and for a moment, everything about this evening felt promising.
Across the room, a server lit a candle at a nearby table. The flame flickered and cast a soft glow across Miranda’s face, and Milo couldn’t look away.
In that same breath, he realized that he was attracted to her…deeply…and he allowed himself to feel it without any guilt.
A waiter approached and introduced himself, then he showed Milo the house champagne – La Marca Prosecco.
Milo smiled after recognizing it and nodded with approval. Then both he and Miranda watched as their glasses were filled and the bubbles danced in delicate streams.
He waited until the younger man walked away, then Milo lifted his glass to make the first toast of the evening. “To us,” he said, leaning his glass against hers. “Thank you for agreeing to come with me. And please know that you were my first and only choice, and I feel like the luckiest man alive.”
Miranda raised her glass and her dimples deepened the more she smiled. Her fingers trembled around the stem of the glass, and she blinked back the shimmer of tears in her eyes. “Thank you for inviting me,” she said, with a warm and earnest voice. “I don’t know if destiny had a hand in us meeting, but I’m really glad to have had this opportunity to get to know you.”
When Milo locked eyes with her, his breath eased out in a soft sigh, and his thumb was brushing the side of his glass as though he was grounding himself. “It wasn’t as if we were looking for a partner…”
Miranda’s gaze softened as she leaned in just a touch. “It’s as if the universe, in all its glory, aligned in a way that placed us in the same room at the same time.”
Milo dipped his head and a shy smile formed as he continued her thought. “We were just two people, living our own lives, when we shared a brief glance across a crowded room.”
“And suddenly everything felt impossible to ignore.” She spoke softly, and couldn’t help but notice that the candlelight swayed back and forth.
They giggled like children, and when they clinked glasses, Milo’s fingers brushed against hers in a fleeting, electric moment that neither of them commented on. They linked arms like they do in the movies, and leaned closer as they took their first sips of the delicious white wine. Then stared into each other’s eyes as if the rest of the world had fallen away.
And as their delicate glasses chimed against the table, somewhere outside, Josh had eased his car into a parking spot.
Josh stole one more glance at Carsyn before removing the metal key from the ignition. She looked so serene and he was very happy that she was there with him. Then rushed around to the passenger side, opened her door, and offered his hand.
Carsyn accepted it with a smile, and allowed her fingers to curl around his as she stepped out.
The evening air greeted them with a warm breeze that brushed against their clothes as they walked to the magnificent front entrance.
Josh’s hand hovered at the small of Carsyn’s back, and neither of them knew what was waiting for them inside.
The hostess greeted them with a polished smile and a straight posture. “Welcome to Don Ameche’s Restaurant. Do you have a reservation?”
Josh placed an open hand on his chest and spoke up. “Yes, it’s under Josh Palmer.”
She scanned the list as her finger glided down the page, and once she found what she was looking for, her face lit up. “Ah, yes,” she said. “The rest of your party has already arrived.”
Josh and Carsyn turned to each other and smiled with anticipation. Then they turned back to the hostess.
She raised her hand and swept it gracefully toward the back of the restaurant, and invited them to follow her through the softly lit dining room. “Let me show you where they’re sitting.”
Carsyn linked her arm through Josh’s, and her grip automatically tightened with a mix of excitement and nerves. As she followed behind the hostess, her eyes caught every face, every flicker of candlelight, and every steaming plate on every table.
Josh’s gaze remained forward, but his shoulders had tensed ever so slightly. He didn’t know why - it was just a feeling he had. It was faint and unsettling, like lyrics that feel familiar or a melody you can’t seem to shake. His fingers reached for one of the brass buttons on his jacket as if it had the power to ground him, and he didn’t even realize he was doing caressing it.
As Carsyn and Josh moved deeper into the restaurant, the space between them and Milo and Miranda narrowed – ten feet, eight feet, five feet…
They didn’t see each other from across the crowded room. But when they were only two feet apart, allt the same time, and then four startled expressions collided in a single, electric moment.
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AUTHOR BIO
I've been writing since I was in elementary, but I didn't take it seriously until I was a mother of two kids. And because I wanted to be the best that I could be, I took a class - How To Write For Children And Teenagers. My teacher loved my work so much, he showed it to other people, and all of a sudden, my stories were going into Kindergarten, Grade One, Two, and Three Readers for the Canada Board of Education.
In 2003, when my husband of 25 years passed away, I turned to writing as a way to heal my heart. A co-worker asked if she could read my scribbles and ended up loving everything she read. The next thing I knew, she was getting my stories bound and printed, and I kept my head down and kept writing.
My friend moved away before Under The Nail Polish came out, so that's the first book I had to do everything - the covers, the layout, editing, and sending my manuscripts away. But it turned it okay, because I was pointed in directions where other people could teach me how to be better at writing full-length novels.
And now I have 17 books on the market and have dipped my pen in almost every genre. I'm currently working on a book that is very near and dear to my heart - it begins on the day when my mother passes away, and spirals into ugly territory that only those who have dealt with Wills and inheritance would know about.
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COMING SOON: On Monday, 14th September, our team member, author David W Thompson, is sharing an excerpt from his short story 'Call Of The Falconer'.
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