Paper Wedding, Best-Friend Bride

“No.” He didn’t have a clue. He checked with their driver and was informed that it was close enough to walk, so they set out on foot again.

The florist offered a variety of exotic plants and blooms. Max waited patiently while Lizzie labored over what color of rose to buy.

She decided on a pale yellow, and they returned to the taxi and climbed into the car. The driver started the engine and off they went, en route to the orphanage.

After a beat of silence, she said, “I wonder who modeled for it.”

For it. The painting. Obviously her mind was still on Lady Ari. “I assumed that the artist had created her from his imagination.”

She sat stiffly in her seat, clutching the rose. “I should have asked George, but I didn’t think of it then. I’d prefer that she was a real person.”

“Why? Because then she would seem less like you and more like the model? Just think of how I feel, knowing the artist is a handsome guy who’s supposedly a lot like me.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “It serves you right. I mean, really, what were you thinking, buying something like that?”

He defended himself. “You ought to be glad that I did.”

“Oh, yeah? How do you figure?”

“Because now I can lust over the painting and forget that I ever had the hots for you.”

“You wish.” As they rounded a corner, he leaned into her. She shoved him aside. “And stop crowding me.”

Max cursed beneath his breath. He wasn’t invading her space purposely. The force of the turn had done it. He wanted to tell the driver to slow down, that this wasn’t the damned Autobahn. Instead he said to Lizzie, “You’re nothing like Lady Ari. It’s not as if you’d ever dance that way in the moonlight.”

“Gee, you think?” She waved her arms around, willy-nilly. “Me and a male heap of burning fire?”

“That was the worst sensual dance I’ve ever seen.”

“That was the idea.”

“To suck?”

The taxi came to a quick halt, stopping for a group of pedestrians. Max and Lizzie both flew forward and bumped their foreheads on the seats in front of them.

He turned to look at her, and she burst out laughing. He did, too. It was impossible to keep arguing in the midst of such absurdity.

“I’m sorry for giving you a hard time,” she said. “You can buy whatever artwork you want.”

“I’m sorry, too.” He leaned toward her and whispered in a mock sexy voice, “I didn’t mean what I said about forgetting that I have the hots for you. Even if you can’t dance like her, you’re still a temptress.”

She accepted his flirtation for what it was. But she also pushed him away from her again, keeping him from remaining too close.

Then...vroom! The car sped off, taking them to the grassy outskirts of town, where the orphanage was.

Three (#u4c6fc2c7-93c4-5c73-bdf1-339e0ba1a6b6)

The orphanage was in a renovated old church, large enough to accommodate its residents and perched on a pretty piece of land with a cluster of coconut trees.

A short stout lady greeted them on the porch. With plainly styled gray hair and eyes that crinkled beneath wire-rimmed glasses, she appeared to be around seventy. Max introduced her as Losa.

After they shook hands, Lizzie extended the rose. “This is for you.”

“Thank you. It’s lovely.” The older woman accepted it with a gracious smile. Although she gazed at Lizzie’s fiery red hair, she didn’t comment on it.

Thankfully, that made the painting Max had bought seem less important. For now, anyway. No doubt Lady Ari would keep creeping back into Lizzie’s mind, along with Max’s sexy little joke about Lizzie tempting him.

Clearing her wayward thoughts, she said, “I also brought gifts for the kids.” She gestured to the boxes Max had placed beside the door. “I got blankets and bottles for the babies and art supplies for the rest of them.”

“That’s wonderful.” Once again, Losa thanked her. “You seem like a nice girl.”

“She is,” Max said. “We’ve known each other since high school. We’ve been proper friends a long time.”

Proper friends? Was that his way of making sure that Losa didn’t mistake them as lovers, the way George had done? That was fine with Lizzie. She preferred to avoid that sort of confusion.

Losa invited them into her office, a simply designed space that was as understated as she was. Max brought the boxes inside and put them next to a metal file cabinet.

Losa offered them iced tea that had been chilling in a mini fridge and slices of homemade coconut bread that were already precut and waiting to be served.

They sat across from her with their food and drink, near a window that overlooked the yard.

Lizzie noticed a fenced area with picnic benches, occupied by groups of children who appeared to be between the ages of two and five. Two colorfully dressed young women watched over them.

Losa followed her line of sight and said, “The older children are in school and the babies are in the nursery. The others are having lunch, as you can see. Tokoni is among them. You can visit with him afterward.”

Lizzie didn’t ask which child was Tokoni or try to recognize him from the photo Max had shown her, at least not from this distance. She was still nervous about meeting him, especially with how much Max adored him.

“So,” Losa went on to say, “you want to interview me for your charity blog?”

“Yes,” Lizzie quickly replied, “I’d like to feature the orphanage. To provide whatever information you’re willing to give.” She removed her phone from her purse. “Also, may I get your permission to do an audio recording? It’s more accurate than taking written notes.”

“Certainly,” Losa said. “It’s good of you to help. It was kind of Max to donate to us, too. He was very generous.” She sent him an appreciative smile.

Although he returned her smile, he stayed quiet, drinking his tea and allowing Lizzie to do the talking.

Once the recording app was activated, she said to Losa, “Max told me that you and your family founded this orphanage after your husband passed.”

“He was a dear man.” Her expression went soft. “He would be pleased by what we accomplished here.”

Lizzie stole another glance at the window. “Are those your granddaughters? The young women tending to the kids?”

“Yes. They’re good girls, as devoted as I am to keeping this place going and matching our children in waiting with interested families. Tokoni is especially eager to be adopted. He chatters about it all the time.”

Lizzie nodded. Max had said the same thing about him. “I’m hoping that my article will raise more than just money for your cause. That it will bring awareness to the kids themselves and how badly they need homes.”

“We work with international adoption agencies that provide pictures and information of our children in waiting. You’re welcome to post links to those websites.”

“Absolutely.” Lizzie intended to be as thorough as possible. “Will you email me that information, along with whatever else you think will be helpful?”