Chapter 10

"You're making quite the fool of yourself, aren't you?"

Patrick looked up in surprise at Gretchen as she burst into his office. Her perfect little nose was turned up. "Gretchen, what are you doing here? Margaret-"

With a wave of her hand she dismissively replied, "Oh that old bat can't keep me out." She slithered across his office and settled herself into the chair across from Patrick. Her green eyes watched him piteously.

With a raised eyebrow he asked, "We're through, Gretchen, did you not get that?"

She sat up arching her back, pushing her full bust into his view, as though the ample amount of cleavage she was displaying hadn't been enough. "Patrick," she said with a pout. "I thought maybe you'd had enough rejection."

He furrowed his brows in confusion at the blond as she gave him a smug smile.

"Oh come on now. The whole town's been a witness to you making a fool of yourself for that mouse of a woman…she used to work for you, didn't she? What was her name?"

His mouth was set in a line and he really was not happy with the way this conversation was heading. "It's none of your business what I do, Gretchen."

"All that trouble, Patrick, and for what? So she can walk right past you."

"It's over, Gretchen, I already told you that…remember at the restaurant the other night?"

"We're never really over, Patrick. After all these years you still haven't realized that?" she remarked, fluffing up her hair. Her fingers opened up her large designer purse and pulled out her compact, opening it and observing her reflection in the small round mirror.

For once, Patrick was finally seeing her. He couldn't deny the things that Marie had said about Gretchen. He hadn't wanted to believe it. Sitting there arrogantly the way she was admiring herself in the mirror, she reminded him of a pampered princess. All she needed was a fluffy poodle and a tiara. He shook his head and let out an incredulous laugh. "It's really over and you really need to leave now."

She snapped her compact shut and her eyes fixed on his icily. "Why, so you can continue to pursue a woman who doesn't want you?"

His turquoise eyes turned cold, and he scooted himself away from the desk getting ready to stand. "Just stop right there."

"And then that son of hers…I saw you and that boy holding up signs for her. It was pathetic…you on your knees with that retarded boy."

Patrick sprang up from his chair. "Frankie is not retarded, he's deaf!" he told her through his teeth.

She shrugged her shoulders carelessly, quite happy that she was getting a rise out of him.

"Retarded, deaf…same bloody thing."

From outside his office Margaret winced at Patrick's bellowed response for Gretchen to leave. In her ten years working for this man, she'd never heard him this angry before. It wasn't a surprise to Margaret though that Gretchen could bring it out.

His steely greenish eyes stared down into Gretchen's, his hand braced her wrist firmly and when he spoke it was in an eerily low tone, "I'm telling you for the last time to leave, Gretchen, or I'll drag you out kicking and screaming." His lips formed a snarl and he continued, "And you won't like the way everyone will be staring at you as I throw you out on your ass!"

Gretchen looked up at him with wide, fearful eyes. In all the years she'd known him he'd never spoken this way to her. And then she let an amused smile fall over her lips as she yanked her wrist away. "Calm down, Patrick. I was just about to leave."

She stood up, straightened her skirt, fluffed her hair, and headed for the door.

Patrick breathed a sigh of relief as she turned the doorknob but then she turned and faced him putting four fingertips up to her lips and blew him a kiss goodbye.

With her pride still intact she turned the doorknob and opened the door slightly. Her voice came out in a high-pitched shriek. "I'm serious, Patrick Connelly," she screamed, opening the door wider so that Margaret could see her angry expression. "We are over!" she yelled hotly, "I don't ever want to see you again!"

With that, the blond vixen stormed angrily away, muttering profanities; the clicking sound of her stilettos fading as she left.

Patrick peeked his head out of the door and Margaret's eyes met his sympathetically. The older woman shook her head at her boss as she caught his disturbed expression.

Slowly he walked out, and a smile settled on his lips. He breathed a sigh of relief and nodded happily to his secretary. "She's gone."

That afternoon Patrick waited nervously by the bakery door. It was Lizzie's quitting time- exactly five minutes past now that he looked at his watch. He began to wonder if maybe there wasn't some other exit that she might've taken to avoid him.

But his breath caught as she appeared on the other side of the door. It was always the same. His heart did a leap when her eyes met his and he wondered if just the sight of her would always make him feel this way.

Lizzie stepped out hesitantly, her face serious. "Patrick…I-,"

He cut in, "Hello, Lizzie. I have an idea, and I need your help." He took her by the hand, determined to not let her get away this time, and began leading her towards his car.

In protest she stopped him and incredulously pulled her hand away. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Please, Lizzie, I'm asking you to play along. Please?" he begged, his eyes looked like a puppy dog again.

"Why should I?"

A smile came across his lips. It was a smile of pure confidence, and Lizzie couldn't help be affected by it.

"Because if you don't," he began, "we're going to go through this everyday until you do."

She began to stammer, "Patrick…this…it's…bad."

He grabbed her hand then, squeezing it firmly, and Lizzie felt like he'd sent a jolt of electricity through her.

"Please," he sighed. "Please just do this for me, and then if you don't ever want to see me again then that'll be the end of it."

The thought of it made her sad but Lizzie knew at some point it had to end. Her sanity demanded it. As he gazed down at her pleadingly though, her heart seemed to tell a different story.

"Promise?"

"Cross my heart."

Lizzie nodded and allowed Patrick to lead her to his car, his grip softening on her hand.

Parked on the side of the street, he opened the passenger side door for her very gentlemanly. Lizzie settled herself into the lush bucket seat; admiring the vehicle's leather interior and breathed in the familiar new car smell.

Very quickly he entered on the other side and as he turned the keys in the ignition he flashed her a brilliant smile.

And then Lizzie knew her heart was in very big trouble.

As they pulled up onto the familiar street a few blocks away, Lizzie felt her heart sink. She said nothing as he helped her out of the car and they stood in front of the coffeehouse door entrance.

This is where it began, she thought with dread. All the anxiety began to crawl its way back into her stomach. Suddenly her palms felt sweaty and she had the irresistible urge to run away. But as he opened the door for her, she calmly entered.

Her feet wouldn't go any further, though, as the surroundings and even the smells of the coffee brought her back to a very awkward time only weeks ago.

"Patrick, I don't think-"

"Come on," he urged impatiently, taking her by the arm hurriedly and led her to the exact booth where they'd first met.

Helplessly she looked up at him and she shook her head.

But before she could get any words out he told her, "Give me five minutes, alright?"

Her eyes wandered from booth to booth, patron to patron, and she willed herself to calm down. She had to go through with this or Patrick would keep persisting.

Lizzie had no idea what Patrick was up to as he quickly strode away. Not even a minute later the server appeared with a bottle of water. He smiled and set it gently down on the table in front of her.

She looked up at the server with a puzzled expression. "I didn't order this."

At this the server only smiled. "It's been taken care of," he stated gently. "Can I get you anything else?" he asked her. When Lizzie shook her head politely he quickly left her alone with her thoughts.

With a long sigh, she removed her jacket and settled back into the cushiony seat. She twisted off the cap to the bottle of water and laughed. The last time she'd ordered tap water. He must've thought she was very odd.

None of that mattered now, she thought, and hoped that this would be over very soon. As long as Patrick was as good as his word then she could get back to a normal life. She took a deep breath and mentally ordered all her walls stand firm. It was imperative to her sanity that they guard and protect just as they were supposed to.

As the minutes passed she began to relax and even found herself humming along to the tune that was playing over the speakers. Her head fell back against the seat and she let her eyes close for just a moment…

"Hello."

Startled, Lizzie's eyes snapped open and inwardly gasped as she looked up. Patrick stood opposite of her only he was wearing different clothing. Clad in a dark blue button down shirt and tan slacks, the deep blue of his eyes stood out remarkably. She tried not to admire the way the woven fabric clung to his chest. Standing there clean-shaven, his face wore a confident smile. He appeared as though he'd just stepped out of a catalog.

And she couldn't help notice the spicy, masculine scent he'd just put on that made her nose want to follow it.

His turquoise eyes looked down at her with a playful glint and he held a cup of coffee in his hand.

She could feel her heart thumping as his smile waged war with her resolve. "What are you doing?"

He leaned in slightly to whisper to her, like a secret. "I'm starting over."

The gentle breath from his whisper sent tingles down her body and she trembled, cursing herself for being weak.

"What's this all about?" she asked trying desperately to maintain her composure.

He ignored her query and stood back up perfectly straight. "I noticed that you were sitting here all alone and wondered if you wanted some company?" he asked her, a small smile playing about his lips.

She didn't realize that her mouth was hanging open as she looked up into his handsome face. Don't do it, Lizzie, her mind screamed. But as his eyes pleaded with hers she couldn't control what came out of her mouth. "Sure. Alright."

With a pleased smile, he sat across from her, setting his coffee on the table. "My name is Patrick. Patrick Connelly." He took a sip of his coffee as he watched her confused expression. "What's yours?"

Lizzie raised an eyebrow as she replied, "Patrick, you know my name."

"Just play along, please?"

She couldn't escape those brilliant eyes or the unsettling feeling that they delivered. She cleared her throat and looked up. "Lizzie. My name is Lizzie Morrison." Walls, don't fail me now, she prayed.

Patrick's eyes darted around and he took a quick peek over his shoulder and asked her playfully, "You aren't expecting anyone, like a boyfriend or husband?"

Lizzie cracked a smile. Although she was perfectly aware that Patrick knew better she couldn't help but be amazed at how with a change of clothes and attitude he'd convincingly transformed himself into a complete stranger again.

"No boyfriend," Lizzie replied. "My husband passed away recently."

His face quickly turned serious and his eyes sparkled with sympathy. Patrick had to remind himself that they were starting all over and that he should pretend to not be aware of the pain that her late husband had inflicted. He cleared his throat, nearly choking on the words. "I'm sorry."

Lizzie only nodded uncomfortably, setting her eyes on the print of her water bottle.

"My wife passed away many years ago." He hadn't spoken of Annabel in years and he didn't know why all of a sudden that now he felt compelled to.

Her eyes snapped up quickly and she was immediately affected by the sadness in his eyes. "Oh…oh," she said surprisedly. "How?"

Patrick's eyes met hers then. "She had a brain tumor," he admitted, still feeling the painful sting of the words. Although he could've said more he chose not to.

There was a silent, awkward moment and Lizzie found her mind was reeling. Apparently there was more to this man than she thought. Beneath that well-groomed, confident, handsome exterior he was human and capable of love and loss. There goes one wall.

"How did he die?" he asked.

Her eyes looked up thoughtfully to the lamp hanging overhead. "He died from kidney failure. He was an alcoholic for many years which lead to liver disease and... it finally caught up with him."

Patrick was silent as he contemplated which way to continue.

The disturbed look on his face prompted Lizzie to add, "I left him a long time ago, actually," she heard herself saying the words and wondered why she felt the need to inform him of that.

Hope lit up his turquoise eyes and he continued. "So do you have any children?"

Her lips formed a smirk as she watched him knowingly. "I have a son."

"Really?" he asked, his face a genuine expression of surprise.

"Yeah, he's nearly ten now," she informed him, finding herself enjoying their little exchange and willing to play along. As he nodded she was surprised at how well he was acting the part of someone she'd never met. Since he'd sat down he'd not betrayed his actions at all. Not with his expressions, not with his words, and not with his eyes. "My son," she laughed, "he's a smart cookie."

Patrick found himself entranced by her laugh. "Aye, he sure is," he let it slip out, and his eyes opened wide as he caught his error. He caught Lizzie giggle. "I mean, children these days are very smart."

"Right," she agreed with a giggle. Damn, there goes another.

I would love to meet him, he thought to say. But he didn't want to push. They were starting over again and he was determined to stay within her comfort zone.

"So do you have any children?" she asked curiously. There was so much she didn't know about this man.

His gaze turned downward and his lips turned to a frown. "No," he uttered. He changed his tone quickly though and gazed into her mesmerizing eyes. "I would love to have children someday."

She felt the heat rising to her cheeks and she reached for her water bottle. With every swallow she hoped that the liquid would restore her face to its natural color.

"So what do you do?" he asked.

"For a couple of weeks now I've been working in a bakery. My boss says that she's going to make me the official cake decorator."

This made Patrick smile. The look of pride in her eyes warmed his heart. Even though she wasn't in Marie's shop anymore he was happy to see that she liked her job.

"And you?" she asked.

"My sister and I own a chain of three Marie's restaurants. In fact there's one here in Glasgow. Maybe you've heard of it."

He is good, Lizzie thought. "Yeah, I think I've heard of it. Fish and chips," she replied with a smirk.

He took a sip of his coffee. "Right. My sister, Marie runs this one and I spend most of my time at the one in Greenock, and tend to the other as needed. Eddie, who's worked there for about three years manages that one for me."

Lizzie nodded along, curious to know more about this man across from her. As she opened her mouth to ask another question she caught a disturbed expression fall over his face.

He closed his eyes and sighed. His right hand lifted his mobile phone and his eyes impatiently read the caller id. His face was awash with apology. "Speak of the devil. Lizzie, I have to take this call, do you mind?"

She shook her head and demurely brought the water bottle up to her lips.

"Eddie, I told you not to call me unless it was an…Oh," he paused for a moment and a slight frown crossed his lips. "Alright, I'll be there as soon as I can."

She knew she had no right to feel this way, but she didn't want him to leave. Perhaps it was the look of sheer disappointment on his face as he listened to the distressed voice on the other end of the line. Or maybe it was appreciation for all the trouble he had gone through for her this past week. One more wall...gone.

"I have to go."

She simply nodded and without a word they both stood and headed towards the front entrance. She was quiet and watched him as he paid the bill. He turned and faced her, his turquoise eyes piercing hers. His cologne baited her with its musky allure.

"It was a pleasure meeting you, Lizzie Morrison," he told her trying to read the smile on her face. Was she just being polite? Is it really over? She hadn't really given a clue whether she wanted to see him again.

Lizzie found herself waiting expectantly for him to say something, anything. But as he opened the door for her he remained silent, his expression unreadable. Awkwardly they stood in front of his car pondering what the next step might be. Would there be a next step?

"Can I give you a ride home?"

"I hardly know you!" she cried out, but as soon as the words left her lips she wondered why she could've said something so foolish. But as he looked at her, his eyes naked with vulnerability, she wondered how she could've gotten any intelligible words out at all. She felt a blush rising to her cheeks and shook her head, silently kicking herself. Say something, Lizzie. "It was nice meeting you, Patrick."

His heart sank. Patrick tried to hide the disappointment he was feeling and gave her a pleasant smile, forcing himself to enter the driver's side of the car.

Her head was turned down as she began to walk but it wasn't more than a few feet before his car pulled up beside her. His automatic window rolled down, and her head snapped up in surprise.

"Lizzie?"

Thump thump thump thump. Her heart was pounding as his handsome face poked out the window.

"I'd really like to see you again. Will you-"

"Yes," she cut in, nodding her head with relief, her lips smiling her affirmative response.

His eyes sparkled, and his teeth were a brilliant white as he grinned at her. "Are you sure you don't want a ride home?"

She shook her head shyly. As much as she would've liked to accept, she wanted to relish this feeling. This wondrous, exciting, new feeling. She hoped that it wouldn't go away.

"I'll call you tomorrow at the bakery then."

Lizzie nodded, thinking that she must've appeared like some lovesick schoolgirl to him. "Alright, tomorrow at the bakery."

"Bye Lizzie," he told her with a wave of his hand and his black sportscar drove slowly away.

Her whole body felt tingly and with every step that she took she was reliving their entire conversation. Giggles passed through her causing passersby to stare. With a girlish smile on her face, Lizzie felt as light as air and she floated the rest of the way home.

"Lizzie, there you are!"

Nell's face was exasperated as she watched her daughter enter and close the door behind her. "Where in heaven's name have ya been? Maureen said you left the bakery an hour ago, and this flat is falling apart! The bloody toilet's clogged up again and it keeps overflowing…"

The disturbing news coming out of her mother's mouth did not seem to affect her. It was as though she was watching her mum on television and had pressed the mute button. As she leaned her body back against the door, her hands rested comfortably in her jacket pockets. A dreamy smile was affixed to Lizzie's face.

"Lizzie, did ya hear a word I was saying? Where've you been?"

Her eyes met her mother's just then. "I met a man."

Nell's shocked expression almost made Lizzie laugh. "What?! What man, Lizzie? Who?"

She still felt feather-light, like she was floating on some cloud way up high in the heavens and her eyes held a faraway look. "Patrick, Ma. His name is Patrick.

A/N: Thanks for your reviews! I always love to hear from you so please keep em' coming!