"As the day is long and the sky is blue, I find myself hopelessly in love with you."
When a fateful stalled elevator brings an intoxicating stranger into the life of Doctor Elliot Kingsley, there is scarce little he can do to stay away from her. Eve...
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Holding my breath, I shut the door to the garage, as quietly as I possibly can. "Just finished having dinner," I lie to my Dad because I know that he would have a coronary if he thought I was out till so late, despite the fact that I had been meeting with potential business partners and not just ambling around the streets alone.
Technically, it wasn't untrue. I had just had dinner with Kelsey Fendler, who seemed to like some of the ideas pitched to her.
It's so early in Andrusia and I'm sure my parents are seated at the dining table, enjoying their crack-of dawn cup of tea, as they do every day.
"How is everything there?" my Mom asks, "Everything ready for the wedding?"
I slip off my shoes and take them into my hand, stretching my toes, glad to feel the polished hardwood of the Kingsley home beneath my feet "There's about three weeks to go," I tell her, "Most things are ready. Maybe a few finishing touches."
"Gosh, remember how frantic we were before your cousin, Neil, got married?" she asks, the same way she does whenever wedding planning conversations come up, "I don't think I remember much from his wedding day. Do tell Jenna's mother that I give her my regards."
"I will, Mom."
"Mm. Now, you get to bed," my Dad tells me, making me look at the clock in the entry way that reads ten-fifteen and smile to myself, "Your Mom and I are going to watch the CNN special that's on in about five minutes."
Hearing my Mom protest makes me smile a little more and realize how much I miss them. I laugh. "Alright, Dad. I'll talk to you guys soon."
My parents say their goodbyes and I trudge down the hall towards the kitchen, enjoying the soft patter of my bare feet against the wood. The house is silent because Mrs. Kingsley generally retires by nine-thirty to wash up and read before bed, and Ray told me that she would be working late today and still wasn't home.
The light in the kitchen is on and as I enter with the intention of getting a drink, I realize why: Elliot is seated at the island, pen in hand, pouring over documents in front of him.
He looks up as I enter and smiles. "Aurora. Hi."
Slowly, I come to a halt on the opposite side of the counter. "Hi," I say back, taking in the sight before me. I smile. "I didn't know you wear glasses."
Behind a pair of large, rectangular spectacles that compliment him and make him look even more like a Clark Kent look alike than ever, Elliot smiles. "Theatre lights may be good for seeing brains, but they tend to tire your eyes. I feel the need for them after a particularly long day."
I slide my bag on to the counter, trying not to notice just how well he pulls those glasses off. "And even after a particularly long day you're here, reading documents?"
"My notes," he tells me, gesturing to the papers in front of him, amidst which I see his leather journal, "I like to get it all down when it's fresh in my mind."
