She smoothed her hands over her hips and hoped the long navy skirt, teamed with a sheer white blouse and camisole beneath, was suitable enough for dinner in such a fancy place. Time and again, her fingers had hovered over her phone while she considered canceling, but after receiving a sharp talking-to from Kate, there was no way Izzy would risk Richard Crawley walking away from helping raising funds for little Maya Jackson.
So here Izzy was. Late by fifteen minutes, but here all the same.
For the second time in a week, she’d stepped out of her comfort zone and into an arena that felt as dangerous as a gladiator fight at a Roman amphitheater.
Her high heels clicked on the marble floor as she walked toward the restaurant doors. The place was the epitome of 1930s glamour with gilded mirrors and huge, resplendent flower displays in every corner and atop every plinth. The chandeliers shone, sending rays of light to prism on every reflective and spotless surface.
A uniformed member of the staff opened the restaurant doors as she approached, directing her to a sign that asked guests to wait to be seated. Glancing around the bustling room, Izzy fought the need to turn around and flee before Richard Crawley, or anyone else, saw her. Bursts of conversation and laughter bounced from the walls while a pianist played on a white baby grand in the far corner. What was she doing here?
Her mouth dried and her hands turned clammy.
“Good evening, miss. Have you a table booked with us this evening?”
Izzy jumped and turned to the young, black-suited mâitre d’. “Um, yes, I’m here to meet with Richard Crawley. I’m a little late, I’m afraid.”
“Ah yes. Mr. Crawley is at your table. If you’d like to follow me?”
Izzy forced her shoulders back, fighting her nerves and insecurity. She’d had hundreds of meetings with moneyed businessmen and visiting tourists happy to spend their holiday savings on her paintings. This meeting with Richard Crawley would be no different. He was here to talk about Maya and the calendar. Not Izzy’s life. Not Robbie.
Business she could do.
Richard rose to his feet as she approached, his smile wide and his dark brown eyes shining as warmly as they had the first time they met. “Miss Cooper.” He held out his hand. “It’s great to see you again.”
Izzy smiled and relaxed her shoulders. It was easy to see his appeal and why he was so successful at his job. His face was open, kind and, she was reluctant to admit, trustworthy. She took his hand. “Thank you. You too.”
He gestured to the chair on the other side of the small table. “Have a seat. What would you like to drink?”
She turned to the mâitre d’. “A glass of Sauvignon Blanc would be lovely, thank you.”
He nodded. “Of course. Suzie will be your waitress for this evening. I’ll ask her to bring your wine and the menus. Enjoy your evening.”
He walked away and Izzy lifted her gaze to Richard.
He shifted back into his seat. “So, how are you?”
“Good. You?”
“Very well.” He smiled and glanced around the restaurant. “Feels kind of surreal to be back in the town I grew up, but kind of nice too.”
Izzy relaxed further and placed her clutch purse at her feet. “How long ago did you live here?”
“A good ten years ago now. My parents moved to the city for my father’s job. It’s strange how I’ve never been back since.”
“Were you happy here?”
“For a while, but I was barely into my teens before I was itching to get out and spread my wings. Small towns suit some people, but definitely not me.”
As silly as it was, his dismissal of small towns and Templeton rankled, but Izzy forced a smile. “Well, for me, the Cove is most definitely where I belong.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Never say never. Things change...people change.”
Uncomfortable with the knowing tone in his voice despite being aware of the huge changes to her personality lately, Izzy cleared her throat and laced her hands on the table. “Shall we talk about the calendar?”
His gaze lingered on hers before he leaned forward, mirroring her posture. “Sure. How’s it going?”
“Really well. I spoke with Kate earlier and she’s drawn up a schedule of when each of the volunteer firefighters will be available. It’s now just a case of me deciding what to feature for each month. For the cover, we thought it would be a great shot to have you and the firefighters together.”
“Sounds good...” He grimaced. “As long as they’re not all built and buff and I end up looking like a stick between them.”
Izzy laughed. Richard Crawley was at least six feet tall, and the width of his chest gave the impression that the gym wasn’t exactly nonexistent in his schedule. “I’m pretty confident you’ll give them a run for their money.”
He lifted an eyebrow, his eyes glinting with flirtation. “Glad to hear you say so.”
Her cheeks heated and she turned from his gaze as a waitress approached carrying Izzy’s wine on a tray in one hand and two leather-bound menus in the other. She placed the menus in front them and the drink in front of Izzy. The young girl smiled. “Your wine, Miss Cooper.” She looked at Izzy and Richard in turn. “I’ll be back to take your order shortly.”
Reaching for her glass, Izzy took a fortifying sip and fought the nerves that jumped into her stomach. Richard was handsome, charming and effortlessly charismatic. The combination made her nervous when she would so rather be at home wrapped in a blanket and watching an old movie, or else working at the studio.
He opened his menu. “Shall we go for starters as well as mains?”
Richard scanned the menu, his brow slightly furrowed and his concentration somber. She needed to stop thinking about her need to be home alone and get fully on board with the project or risk letting Kate down, not to mention Maya.
Mustering her confidence, Izzy looked at the menu. “Well, as I’m at the Christie and haven’t had the chance to step inside the place before, I think we should take full advantage.”
He laughed. “I agree. The bill’s on me, so I want you to have whatever you’d like.”
“Oh, I didn’t mean for you to pay—”
“I want to. Please. I’m an old-fashioned kind of guy and like to treat a lady to dinner...if that’s okay with you?”
How could she refuse when his tone was so friendly and gentle? This wasn’t a date. It was a business meeting and the man was being polite and attentive. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Now, what will it be?”
The evening passed with a steady stream of conversation about everything from the calendar, to their childhoods, to Richard’s time in Templeton as a young boy to his current work as a TV presenter.
Their starters were delicious, but it was only as they came toward the end of their mains that Izzy realized just how much she had relaxed. Her plate clean, she set down her knife and fork and sighed. “That was amazing. Thank you for inviting me here tonight. I’ve really enjoyed it.”
“Good.” He smiled. “I couldn’t help worrying I’d never see you again after my and Francis’s insensitive words about your brother. I can only apologize and promise it won’t happen again.”
Izzy held his apologetic gaze as insecurity threatened once more. For an hour or so, she’d been in someone’s company who’d made her forget about Robbie. Richard had made her smile, even if laughter had been a step too challenging. Now the guilt over how she’d enjoyed herself and might be able to move on one day came back heavy and unwanted, making her want