Charming Mr Stewart

11b. Cupid at the Picnic

It wasn't long before she parked outside her studio, the package and her handbag next to her on the passenger seat. Fifteen minutes to twelve. Her heart was knocking incessantly. It obviously wanted to escape Elle and run away as far as it could, away from a longing for a picnic blanket on some winery, snuggling up with Dean.

Elle twirled the wedding band on her finger, nervously watching the street in front. Besides a few university students floating about, the main road was mostly empty. She stared down at the ring. It suddenly made her finger itch terribly.

"It's only a meeting, Elle," she muttered, mesmerised by the band as if it were speaking to her. "It's only a business meeting." But the ring itched and for the first time since her wedding day Elle took it off. An unusual sadness swept her as she stared at the insignificant-looking gold band. It felt heavy in her palm. It was Blake, her Blake. And for the first time, he was no longer in public view.

She stuffed the ring into her jeans pocket and tried to think of something else, but the white skin shone where the ring had been as if it had been tattooed there. When a knock came on her driver's side window, naturally, Elle screamed. Seeing who it was, she promptly blushed.

"Mr. Stewart," she said, winding down the window.

"You keep forgetting to call me Dean." He smiled one of his heart-stopping smiles and Elle could feel her palms go sweaty and her ring feel heavier. "Will you get out of your car?" he asked as Elle continued to sit there.

She nodded, grabbed her handbag and the package, and exited her car, unable to feel the ground beneath her feet.

"I made you nervous." He took her confidently by the small of her back and led her to his silver BMW convertible parked a few spots up.

"I'm not nervous," she choked out.

"I didn't mean to startle you when I knocked on your window."

"Not your fault if I'm inclined to daydream." As soon as Elle said that, she wished she had never uttered a word.

"What were you dreaming about?" he asked politely. Unlike herself, who only heard edits of conversation, Dean had been listening to every word.

"Oh, nothing." She shook her head, feeling her cheeks go a deeper cherry than ever. "Just being silly old me."

"I'd hardly call you old," he muttered and opened the passenger door.

Elle tried to slide onto the seat as elegantly as possible but ended up stubbing her toe on the door and fumbling onto her target. She watched him close the door and walk around to the driver's seat. "Where are we going?" she asked, feeling every bit embarrassed.

Dean pulled the car out onto the street. "I thought maybe we could enjoy a light picnic. It's too beautiful a day to waste indoors, wouldn't you say?"

"I brought nothing."

Dean smiled. "I didn't want you to bring anything but yourself. I've brought something for us. Hope you don't mind."

Elle shook her head. She didn't mind at all that he'd packed their lunch. What she was minding was that this meeting had strangely started out as a first date might, despite her denying it.

"I didn't know what kind of wine you prefer, so thought I'd take you to the vineyard and you can pick one out for us." The beautiful autumn foliage of Armidale's Japanese Maples whizzed past them. Elle kept focused on them instead of the man next to her. The word 'us' had sent a strange ripple through her body and she didn't want him to see how far gone she already was.

"You shouldn't have gone to all the trouble," she said. A man hadn't pampered her in two years. In a strange way, she liked that her 'client' had put so much thought into the 'meeting', though a small part of her wished he hadn't. It was not fair. She hadn't wanted to be interested in anyone when she'd moved into town. It wasn't part of her plan.