Wishful Thinking Read online

  “What the hell are you on tonight? I think you need to lay off the wine.” He sounded bewildered.

  “I’m not on anything. But there are some things I’d like to discuss. Just a few minor details like our wedding and when I get to go back to school. You never seem to have time when we’re alone, so I’m discussing them now. Here. On my birthday, which you forgot. Again.” She looked down at her arm again. “I’m going to have a bruise there tomorrow if you don’t stop.”

  Christian loosened his grip and ran a hand through his hair. “Look, babe…” He looked suddenly defeated. “I admit it—I forgot your birthday. And damn it, I am so sorry. I just got…I got so caught up in my new job and in trying to land the Vances as a client that I let myself get carried away.”

  Phil rubbed her upper arm. But she felt something inside her begin to melt a little. This was the Christian she had fallen in love with in the first place. The sweet, stammering man who declared his love for her on their second date. The man who had once climbed into a bull’s pasture to gather wildflowers for her. (He had barely escaped the charging bull with only a hole in his pants to show for the adventure.) The man she’d been living and planning and hoping with for the last five years. Could it be that the man she loved had simply been buried under the stress of a new job and the need to excel in his chosen profession?

  “Christian,” she said at last, while he looked at her hopefully. “I just need you to know that your forgetting my birthday again hurt me. A lot.”

  “I understand that. I do.” He nodded, a look of sincerity stamped on his handsome features.

  “And there are some things I really need to talk to you about. I feel like you keep ducking me. I want to talk about the wedding. And I want to talk about when I can go back to school. My job is a nightmare and if it wasn’t for…well, anyway, it’s really bad. I supported you all the way through law school and I feel like right now, I could use some support too.”

  “Philly-babe,” Christian put an arm around her shoulders. “You’ll get all the support you need—I promise. But for right now, can we please just go back to the table before I blow it? It’s not gonna be good for either one of us if I end up in the unemployment line tomorrow. You know?”

  “All right.” Phil nodded reluctantly. “But I want to talk about the issues we’ve been avoiding. And I want to talk about them soon.”

  “Let’s make a date for a breakfast meeting tomorrow morning.” Christian smiled at her. “We’ll talk over coffee. How’s that?”

  “That’s fine. That’ll be just fine.” For the first time in their relationship, Phil felt like she had gotten, if not the upper hand, at least an equal footing with her fiancé. It was a very satisfying feeling.

  “Okay then. Let’s go back and let the Vances know we’re not crazy people.” He gave her the same brilliantly white smile that had dazzled her in the first place. “And maybe there will be a little birthday surprise sometime tonight after all. What do you say?”

  “I say that sounds great.” Phil gave him an impulsive kiss on the cheek, then wiped off the smudge of neutral lipstick she’d left behind.

  “That’s my girl. C’mon, babe. Let’s knock ‘em dead.” He led her back to the table where the Vances were looking at them a little uneasily. Phil dropped all talk of her birthday and Christian was so charming that the whole table was soon laughing and having a wonderful time again, all the earlier awkwardness forgotten. At one point, Christian excused himself and she saw him talking to the head waiter, who nodded stiffly while money exchanged hands. She and Minnie Vance exchanged a girlish, knowing look and the older woman whispered to her, “Have to train them right, don’t we my dear?” Phil just winked and smiled back, reveling in the feeling of being the center of attention.

  Cass had been right, Phil thought as, at the end of the meal, a waiter appeared with a covered silver tray. This speaking her mind thing had been the best thing that she possibly could have wished for. Why she hadn’t wished for it years ago was beyond her.

  “For the birthday girl,” Christian called loudly as the waiter bent at the waist to present her with the tray. But all her good feelings disappeared when the waiter raised the lid and showed what was beneath. A large, gooey éclair was sitting in the middle of the tray with a small, tasteful white candle stuck into its chocolaty top.

  “Oh…” Phil felt like someone had punched her in the stomach. For a moment she was sure she was going to be sick.

  “I ordered it especially for you,” Christian said proudly, oblivious to her nausea. “It’s her favorite,” he told the Vances, nodding at the tray. “She has to have one every day. You oughta see the way she goes through them.”

  “My goodness.” Minnie Vance smiled at her enviously. “And you so nice and slender, Philomena. I’m sure I just don’t know where you put them.”

  The nausea had eased its hold on her stomach and Phil wanted to say something polite. But when she opened her mouth, what came out was, “In the trash, mostly.”

  “Ha—she’s such a kidder.” Christian was giving her a warning look. “She loves éclairs, don’t you, babe? Go ahead—dig in.”

  Once again Phil wanted to say something to save face. She liked the Vances now, especially Minnie, and she had no wish to embarrass herself or Christian in front of them. But once more when she opened her mouth, the little white lie wouldn’t come out.

  “I hate éclairs,” she heard herself saying. “I’ve hated them for years. And if you really knew me, Christian, you’d know that.”

  Her mouth wanted to say more, but Phil didn’t dare let it. Instead, she got up and ran to the women’s room to hide.

  Once safely inside, she splashed cool water on her face, heedless of the fact that her makeup was coming off and her natural deep red lip color could be seen. She stared in the mirror at the girl with eyes so blue they were almost black and wondered what the hell was happening to her. Why couldn’t she lie when she needed to? Speaking her mind was one thing but this…

  Phil blotted her face with paper towels from the dispenser. She had a bad feeling about what had just happened but she tried to push it down. Maybe it was the wine talking. After all, she hardly ever drank more than a glass or two and tonight she’d had over half a bottle. That had to be it. She’d gotten a little tipsy and the effects of her new wish were still settling in. Fairy magic and alcohol didn’t mix. Surely tomorrow when the wine wore off she’d have better control of herself. Probably she’d have a terrible hangover too, but that was all right. As long as things went back to normal, she wouldn’t mind having the worst head ache in the world.

  It was another half hour before Christian came to get her, after seeing the Vances out to their car. She could tell by the stony look in his eyes that he was not happy but thankfully he didn’t ask her any direct questions and she was able to keep her silence.

  It was a long, cold ride home, with Phil trying to apologize but no words coming out. And by the time they got to the apartment, Phil no longer even wanted to apologize. Maybe her sisters and Josh were right. Maybe it was time she and Christian took a break from each other. The idea of being out on her own again after five long years was scary, but Phil was beginning to think that it wasn’t half as scary as the idea of living the rest of her life with a man who didn’t really know her.

  “Phil…” Her fiancé broke into her thoughts just as they stepped into the dark, silent apartment. “I don’t know what the hell all that was about. But—“

  “Christian, I think we ought to take a break,” Phil said, even though she would have liked to have a little more time to think about things first. “I feel like you don’t really know me. And how can you love somebody you don’t know? Maybe…maybe I should just pack some things and move back to my nana’s.”

  “What?” Christian’s look went from angry to shocked. “All this because I ordered you an éclair? Come on, Phil—you had too much wine and you’re talking crazy.”

  “No, I’m not.” Phil sat on t