“Yes, I do, but this is not about me. You should level with him. Again. Tell him why you’re worried about his attention.”

“Not in a million years!”

“Here’s what you’re going to do. Go home. Change into something that looks great on you, put on some fresh lips, go to Cliff’s at seven and tell the man you forgive him. He didn’t know what he was doing, it’s been seventeen years and he’s very sorry. Besides, what more can he do? What more do you want?”

“I don’t want anything,” Iris said. “I just want him to move on. I’m not strong enough for all this. I don’t want to be his cross to bear.”

“Iris, let him make his amends, accept his apologies and put him out of his misery.”

“I’m afraid, Grace.”

“Afraid of what?”

“Grace, I’ve wanted to fall in love since I was eighteen! Every time I met a guy with potential, I wanted so much to fall in love and be loved! But I couldn’t. Because the only guy I’ve ever loved is Seth. I don’t want to want him and watch him walk away from me again! I don’t want to confuse his making amends for love and have my heart broken all over again!”

Grace stared at her, speechless. Finally she said, “Wow. Who knew you were so complicated.”

“What am I going to do?”

“Go to dinner. Have a conversation.”

“I just don’t know what to say!”

“Talk to him. Tell him the truth. It seemed safer to drive him away than to make up only to watch him walk. Level with him. Be honest for once. Tell him that you’re relying on him to also be honest.”

“I can’t,” she said. “I just can’t.”

“Listen to me, Iris. Do you want to feel this way for another seventeen years? Confused and hopeful and angry and hopeful again? There’s only one way to end this. Rip off that Band-Aid! Tell him, as a girl you loved him. You’re not a girl anymore—you’re a woman. Too old to play games. Too old to pretend. Tell him you need him to promise not to mislead you with stupid gestures. But also tell him he’s forgiven for all the misunderstandings and idiocy of youth and he is allowed to let it go and walk away. Seriously, Iris—get it over with.”

Iris sniffed. “And then?”

“And then, I can recommend the crab cakes. Nobody makes crab cakes like Cliff’s.”

Six

Iris dressed with care. She tried to examine her motives honestly and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to torture Seth before telling him she was forever done putting up with his mixed messages or if she wanted him to be impressed and tempted. She wore gold slacks that accentuated her long legs. Not shimmering gold but more of a yellow-gold. She had a favorite cowl-necked black sweater that flattered her figure and she added a long gold chain. She risked a great deal by wearing her hair loose, falling to her shoulders. If she got caught in a big wind she’d look like Bozo the Clown with brown hair.

Her confidence restored, she walked into the restaurant and looked around. There was Seth at the bar. He turned, saw her and stood, looking across the bar at her. He smiled.

And right next to him, Troy stood. Also smiling.

Oh, this could be problematic.

Just to be safe, she looked around to see if any other eligible bachelors stood and smiled at her. Thank God, it was only two. But why did it have to be the two men she’d been trying to push away? She was trying so hard to build Troy into a good friend without romantic expectations and to keep Seth from leading her on and hurting her again. They were both making this difficult. She was running out of patience. If Troy had expected a quiet, private romantic dinner, Cliff’s was the last place he should have chosen. If Seth wanted yet another round at working things out, he should be worried she might hit him again.

She realized she was just standing there while both men waited.

She moved toward them.

“You look beautiful, Iris,” Seth said.

“You sure do,” Troy agreed.

“Thank you. You have me at a disadvantage since I don’t know who invited me to dinner.”

Troy had just opened his mouth when Seth spoke. “You mean you came to meet someone for dinner without knowing who it was? Iris, that can’t be safe!”

“In Thunder Point?” she asked. Then she lied. “I assumed it was Troy.”

That made Troy beam with pleasure. “We have a table ready,” he said.

God, it was him! Would he never get the message? Iris had a very brief and evil idea. She could act as if she was interested in Troy and see how Seth felt about that but the idea vanished very quickly as she imagined many more weeks of Troy trying to convince her they were meant to be a couple. But it would really serve them both right.

“What a nice surprise, Troy!” she said.

“Day late and a dollar short, as usual,” Seth said.

“Huh?” Iris and Troy both said.

“I thought I’d come here after work, maybe eat some crab cakes at the bar or, if I ended up real lucky, I’d run into friends who felt like dinner. But I wouldn’t want to intrude on a romantic evening,” Seth said.

“It’s not romantic,” Iris said before she could stop herself. Well, she had to say that. She’d been trying like hell to explain to Troy she wanted to be friends but not lovers. It was beginning to look like she was going to have to do that the painful way. “Troy is a very dear friend, a colleague I depend on. We’re not dating.” She flushed slightly and couldn’t bring herself to look at Troy. If his expression was crestfallen, she might weep on the spot.

“Well, in that case, do you mind if I pull up a chair?” Seth asked, smiling.

“Gee, I don’t know. Troy might have something he wants to discuss,” Iris said.

“I’ll leave you before dessert,” Seth said, offering no way out. “Lead the way,” he said to Troy. He followed them. “Did you like the apples?” he asked.

She stopped dead in her tracks and looked over her shoulder at him. “What? You gave me apples? There was no note, no card.”

Seth maneuvered around them to hold Iris’s chair for her. “I was up north over the weekend and it was harvest time. The apples were unreal, weren’t they? As big as melons! Sorry, I should’ve thought of a card.”

She sat down and looked between the men. “Cookies? Scarf? Wreath? Horn of plenty?”

“Cookies,” Seth admitted. “I thought you’d recognize them. My mom made them. She always made those when we were growing up.”

“Scarf, wreath and horn,” Troy said, not happy. “Maybe you two can share more childhood stories. I really enjoy those.”

Oh, he’s asking for it, Iris thought. It was one thing for Troy to try being sweet, another to act proprietary when she’d specifically told him if he didn’t stop with the romantic gestures they couldn’t even be friends.

Cliff appeared at their table to take drink orders. Iris didn’t hesitate. “Chardonnay. And hurry.”

The men ordered beer and menus were placed before them.

“So, let me get this right. You were both leaving little gifts on my porch, both of you omitting notes.”

“I just forgot,” Seth said. “Really, I thought you’d figure it out—especially the cookies.”