Dreams of Perfection (Dreams Come True) Read online

  Josh, surrounded by the other groomsman, looked adorable in his tux.

  And there was Dr. Perfect, headed in her direction with champagne for two. Not to be outdone, Blake struck his own dashing figure in a charcoal gray suit, white shirt, and cobalt blue tie. During the lovely outdoor ceremony, Darcy couldn’t help but daydream a little, especially when the minister had invited Martin to kiss his bride and Blake had reached over to squeeze her hand.

  “Your date abandon you?”

  “Not anymore.” She smiled as she took the proffered glass of bubbly.

  Blake slipped his arm around Darcy’s waist, as Laura approached, sans escort.

  “G’day, mate.”

  Darcy rolled her eyes. Obviously, Laura’s new hottie hailed from Australia. “Blake, you remember Laura. You treated her in the ER.”

  “Of course I do. How could I forget . . .?”

  Laura preened.

  “. . . the person who brought you into my life?” He pulled Darcy closer, gazing into her eyes.

  “Hmph,” Laura replied with an unladylike snort, making Darcy chuckle.

  “I’ll go get us some appetizers,” Blake offered. “Would you like a bite, Laura?”

  Darcy could see the wheels turning in Laura’s head, like a spinning Rolodex, in search of the perfect ribald response.

  “No thanks,” she said with a smirk, “more for Darcy.”

  “So, who’s that you’re with?” Darcy asked after Blake walked away.

  “Jake. He’s a cowboy and stunt man from Perth, doubling for Daniel Craig in his latest film.” Laura found him among the crowd. “Glorious, isn’t he?”

  “A stunt man? Do you think he’d mind if I asked him some research questions for my current novel?”

  “Feel free. Just be sure to give him back when you’re done,” Laura said with a wink.

  Two young women in catering uniforms carrying appetizer trays approached them. “You’re Darcy Butler, right?” the shorter, slightly plump one bearing the bruschetta asked. “I’m a huge fan,” she continued without waiting for confirmation. “I’ve read all your books! I follow you on Twitter and Facebook, and I come to all your local book signings.”

  Darcy mentally cringed, not wanting to hurt the girl’s feelings, but most of the time the faces at book signings were all a blur.

  “Maybe you recognize my Twitter handle, I’m ‘SluttyGirl,’ and this is ‘PrincessLeia22,’” she said, pointing to the tall skinny girl with the tray of Brie tartlets.

  Laura snorted, then choked on her champagne.

  “Um, oh, yes.” How could she forget a Twitter handle like that? “I really appreciate all of your retweets, um, SluttyGirl.”

  “Can you give us a sneak peek of your next book? What’s the hero like?” PrincessLeia22 asked.

  Laura, now fully recovered from her champagne mishap, turned to Darcy. “Yes, Darcy. Do tell. What’s the hero like?”

  Darcy briefly imagined strangling Laura with her own Pantene-model-hair and dumping her body into the Hudson, but reconsidered, what with all the witnesses.

  “Well, PrincessLeia . . . 22 . . . I’d hate to spoil the surprise I have in store for my fans with this next book. So I’m just going to say you’ll have to wait until it comes out. Sorry.”

  “That’s okay,” PrincessLeia22 replied with a shrug. “It was worth a try anyway. Tartlet?”

  “Sure.” Darcy reached for a napkin and a tartlet, figuring it was the least she could do.

  PrincessLeia22 and SluttyGirl moved on to the other wedding guests to offer up their tartlets and bruschetta.

  Laura took another sip of her champagne, a devilish smile on her movie-star-gorgeous face. “Oh, you’ve got a surprise in store for your fans, all right.”

  “Shh. Here’s Blake.”

  “Ladies.” He presented a plate piled high with hors d’oeuvres of every shape and color. “I think I’ve got a little something you’ll like.”

  “Don’t say it,” Darcy muttered to Laura.

  Josh watched as Blake wrapped his arm around Darcy’s waist and pulled her close, holding out a plate of food with the other hand. Josh tossed back the last of his champagne, longing for something stronger. His opportunity to treat Blake as a hostile witness had finally presented itself.

  He’d been busy all morning with his groomsmen’s duties, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t noticed how beautiful Darcy looked in a simply cut green—he guessed some might call it jade—off-the-shoulder deal that fit her slender form perfectly. He could just imagine how the color made her eyes sparkle. Her hair hung loose around her shoulders in soft waves.

  He headed in their direction, stopping from time to time to greet colleagues from the firm. Josh gritted his teeth when Blake threw his head back, laughing at something Darcy said. Even his laugh was perfect. Infectious, if you liked that sort of rich-timbered baritone.

  “Hi, Darcy.”

  “Josh.” Darcy smiled. “Don’t you look handsome in your groomsmen get-up? Blake, you remember Josh.”

  “Of course.”

  The two men shook hands.

  “Garrett.” Josh nodded perfunctorily.

  “Nice catch at the Yankees game.”

  “Yeah, thanks.”

  “Bloodsucker,” Laura greeted Josh in her usual charming way.

  “Witch.”

  “What do lawyers use for birth control?”

  “Their personalities.” Josh replied, unenthused with their customary banter.

  “Damn,” Laura muttered. “I’ve got to get some new jokes.”

  Darcy just shook her head at Blake’s questioning look.

  Blake broke the uncomfortable silence. “Laura, how did you spend your Memorial Weekend?”

  “Jake and I spent the weekend in the Hamptons.”

  “The beaches there are wonderful,” Blake said.

  “If you say so,” Laura replied with a wicked grin. “How about you two?”

  “We flew to Maine for lobster,” Darcy said, as she slipped her hand into Blake’s.

  “Wow!” Josh drew back in surprise. “Conspicuous consumption in action.”

  Darcy frowned.

  “A man after my own heart.” Laura held up her champagne glass in a toast.

  “You have a heart?” Josh quipped.

  “And they’re off,” Darcy muttered, while Blake watched the whole exchange as if he were viewing the final match at Wimbledon.

  “Don’t you have someone to sue?” Laura thrust.

  “Don’t you have someone to do?” Josh parried.

  “Actually, yes. Excuse me while I round up my Aussie cowboy. Always nice exchanging barbs with you,” Laura said, as she nodded at Josh. “Blake, take care of my girl.” She kissed Darcy on the cheek and strutted off in the direction of the tent.

  “You two always get along so swimmingly?” Blake asked Josh.

  “Oh yeah, we’re BFFs,” Josh replied flatly. “So, Blake, Darcy tells me you’re a trauma surgeon, of impeccable pedigree, no less.”

  “I suppose you could say that.”

  “Harvard undergrad and medical school?”

  “Yes.”

  “Johns Hopkins for residency?”

  “Yes.”

  “UCSD for fellowship?”

  “Josh,” Darcy hissed.

  “Yes, that’s right,” Blake replied evenly, as if he were accustomed to being cross-examined by his girlfriend’s best friend.

  “Been in New York long?”

  “No. I was in Chicago two years before coming here.”

  “Where?”

  “Mt. Sinai.”

  “And before that?”

  “Josh, stop it!” Darcy stepped between Josh an
d Blake.

  “No, it’s okay, Darcy.” Blake pulled her back. “I don’t mind. We can cover my entire career if Josh is so inclined.”

  “Well, I’m not so inclined. Come on.” She tugged at Blake’s arm. “The music is starting, and I’m inclined to dance.”

  She executed a defiant hair flip before turning to glare at Josh, her eyes spitting green sparks, as Blake took the lead in the direction of the tent.

  Josh scrubbed his hands through his hair. Oh boy. Darcy would make sure he paid for that little confrontation.

  Blake pulled Darcy into the circle of his arms. Even their warmth couldn’t sooth Darcy’s indignation. “I’m sorry, Blake. I don’t know what got into him.” Alcohol, perhaps. “He doesn’t usually behave like a rabid lawyer.”

  “Don’t give it another thought. He’s only protecting you.” Blake tucked her head under his chin, then kissed the top of her head. “That’s what friends do. Just forget it.”

  She closed her eyes and relaxed into Blake, vowing to rip Josh a new one at the first opportunity.

  Chapter 22

  Darcy’s opportunity presented itself sooner than she’d expected when her doorbell rang Sunday morning. She gathered her robe around her and padded in her bare feet to the door, opening it to find Josh standing with two cups from the coffee shop around the corner, a determined expression on his face. He looked like hell. Before she could light into him, he held out the cup like a peace offering.

  “I’m sorry.”

  His abrupt apology momentarily disarmed her. Then her anger flared again when she realized his unexpected remorse had robbed her of the chance to express her righteous anger over his inexcusable behavior.

  “That’s it? That’s all you’ve got?” She stood with her arm on the door, blocking his entrance to her house, one eyebrow lifted in disdain.

  “Well, that and a chai tea, just the way you like it.” Nothing. “Look, Darcy, can I come in?” When she didn’t move, Josh continued. “I said I was sorry.” Still nothing. “I was rude and out of line.” Darcy’s foot started tapping. “Okay, I was an asshole.”

  Darcy grabbed the tea, held the door open for Josh to enter, and he followed her into the kitchen where she’d been making tea. When she saw him glance around, she said, “He’s not here.”

  Josh relaxed.

  “Which is too bad, since he’s the one you should be apologizing to.”

  “I know. You’re right.” Josh scrubbed his hands through his hair. “I’ll apologize next time I see him. Where is he by the way?”

  “He’s in Timbuktu.”

  Josh snorted. “No, really.”

  “Yes, really. After we got back last night, an international medical charity called about a man who’d been mauled by a lion and needed an amputation immediately.” She leaned against the counter sipping her peace offering. She had been keenly disappointed since things had been heating up and she’d planned to ask him to stay the night. “Why?”

  “Why what?”

  “Why do you want to know where Blake is?”

  “Because I wanted to apologize.” Josh leaned against the opposite countertop and toyed with his coffee cup. “Why else?”

  Darcy narrowed her eyes. “Right.”

  “So, since you’re a free woman for the day, want to hang out? It’s a nice day. We could walk to Dumbo.”

  “I don’t know, Josh, I’m behind on my word count.” The look of disappointment on his face had her backtracking. “But how about I meet you at the batting cage on Third later and then we can grab dinner after.”

  “Sure.” He pushed off the counter and, leaning down, kissed her temple. “Again, Darce, I’m really sorry. See you later.” He turned and let himself out.

  Josh was sorry, but primarily because he’d hurt Darcy. Damn, she’d looked so sexy standing there in her skimpy robe and bare feet, hair pulled back in some messy knot, no makeup. The relief he’d felt when he’d learned Blake hadn’t spent the night was overwhelming, as if he’d been in an underwater cave and had just come up for air.

  He paused on her stoop, unable to bear the thought of going back to his quiet apartment. He’d spent too much time there last night worrying about how badly he’d screwed up with Darcy as a result of his alcohol-fortified interrogation of Blake.

  To distract himself, he’d done a little research on Blake via Google, not expecting to turn up anything more than the people-finder agency. But he did come across various articles on his surgical skills and charitable endeavors. He’d performed life-saving surgeries all over the globe, everything from amputations, like Darcy had just mentioned, to saving limbs from amputation. If you could believe what they said online, Blake Garrett was some kind of medical saint. And a rich one at that, thinking about the flight to Maine. Yet, his sudden appearance in Darcy’s life defied explanation.

  Sighing, he shoved his hands in his pockets, turned right, and headed for Prospect Park. Maybe he could pick up a chess match or two. The intellectual exercise would take his mind off Darcy and Blake. If only for a little while.

  Bright and early Monday morning, a little too early by Darcy’s standards, she woke up with a horrific toothache in an area where there was no tooth. After getting in to see her dentist, she learned she had not one, but two, impacted wisdom teeth that had to come out ASAP.

  According to Dr. Jameson, it was a miracle she’d gone this long without a problem. He’d managed to get her in with an oral surgeon who worked her into his schedule the next morning.

  “Now, Ms. Butler, since you’re having general anesthesia,” the surgeon’s nurse explained, “you’ll need someone to drive you home after the surgery and stay with you at least for the night. Do you have someone who can help you?”

  Darcy ran through her list of friends and family. Her parents were in San Francisco where her mother was speaking at a Jane Austen conference. And, of course, Blake was still in Timbuktu. She’d call Anne or Brandon. One of them would take care of her, they always did.

  “Oh, um, yes, I can get someone.” A true needle-phobic, Darcy dreaded this surgery like a man dreaded a vasectomy.

  “Okay, dear. We’ll see you at eight a.m. Don’t forget, nothing to eat or drink after midnight.”

  Right. No worries there, since her jaw throbbed like she’d just taken a right hook. The nurse handed her the paperwork, and asked where she could call in the prescription for pain medicine.

  Drowning in self-pity, Darcy walked out of the office and hailed a taxi, wishing desperately that Blake were in town. He’d know exactly how to take care of her.

  She called Anne from her cell.

  Anne answered with an exhausted sounding, “Hello.”

  “Hi, Anne. Listen, I have to have my wisdom teeth out tomorrow. Can you come take care of me?”

  “Sorry, but Olivia’s got the stomach flu. There’s no way I can leave her.”

  Darcy fought back the selfish disappointment. “I’m sorry. Will Olivia be all right?”

  “She’ll be fine. Just one of those joys of childhood. You going to be okay?”

  “I’ll be fine.” Darcy heard Olivia’s feeble voice in the background. “Thanks, and kiss Olivia for me.” Sighing, Darcy hit ‘end’ and dialed Brandon.

  “Hey, Darce! How’s my favorite baby sister?”

  “Well, I’ve got to have my wisdom teeth out tomorrow. Any chance you could play nurse for a day?”

  “Sorry, sis. I’m in Toronto for an engineering conference. Won’t be back until early next week.”

  Darcy winced. If she had to choose between an engineering conference and oral surgery, she just might go with the oral surgery. “Sounds like fun.”

  “You know it. What about Anne?”

  “Olivia’s sick.”

  “Oh. Call Laura then. I gotta run. T
he session on amorphous metals is starting. Love you, sis.”

  Great. Just great. There was no way she was calling Gloria. She’d try Laura, even though she had more in common with Nurse Ratched than Florence Nightingale.

  “Guten morgen, Freundin. What’s up?”

  Jake must have run his course, but Darcy didn’t have the energy to ask about l’amour du jour.

  Darcy got right to the point. “Laura, I’ve got to have my wisdom teeth cut out tomorrow.” She cringed at that visual. “And I need someone to bring me home and stay with me. Are you available?”

  “Oh . . . well—blood, needles—not really my thing,” she muttered on the other end of the line. “But for you, girlfriend, I’d do it. Problem is, my team is pitching an ad campaign to a pet food conglomerate tomorrow and I can’t get away. What about your parents or Anne?”

  Darcy explained the circumstances.

  “Why don’t you call Josh? He’ll do it I’m sure, being the Good Samaritan and all,” Laura said, her sarcastic emphasis crystal clear.

  Darcy sighed. “All right. Thanks, anyway. Good luck tomorrow.”

  “Thanks. Good luck to you, too. I’ll come by after work and check on you. Bring you a little something to cheer you up.”

  Darcy hung up, dropping her phone dejectedly in her lap. This is what boyfriends were for. She’d been completely and utterly abandoned. Grumbling about brilliant surgeons, jet-setting family members, stomach bugs, and pet food, she paid the cab driver, picked up her mail by the door, and let herself in. First stop, the freezer for an ice pack. Flinching as she placed the pack against her jaw, she dialed Josh at work.

  “Hey, Sunshine.”

  “Not so much. More like cloudy with a chance of doom and gloom.”

  “What’s wrong, and why do you sound like you have a mouthful of marbles?”

  “Oh, Josh.” Darcy teared up then began babbling about how her jaw felt like she’d just lost a bar fight to some guy named Guido, that she had to have surgery tomorrow, and that she was all alone.