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.

"Hope the drive wasn't long," she said after a while. They were nearing the outskirts of the city.

"Nothing a good night's sleep won't cure," Dean said. "So, tell me what you got up to this morning? Hope I'm not keeping you from anything, or anyone." He suddenly eyed Elle's wedding finger.

Elle felt his gaze, and the ring felt heavy in her pocket once more. She shook her head. "No, no one's waiting for me. I mean, except Maya, but she's probably too busy playing with the twins, so no."

"Maya?"

"My daughter." Elle held her breath, waiting to see his reaction. This could be the moment she was hoping for, the moment that would give them both an excuse to say no and keep their distance. Instead, he smiled.

"How old is she?"

"Four," she answered. A smile wasn't what she expected. A smile meant he was happy she had a child. And any man out for courtship would usually run away when they heard a child was involved. He simply smiled.

"Bet she's cute," Dean said, and Elle nodded.

It was a little while before either spoke again. The wind blew warmly around their heads in the open convertible. Elle was glad she'd tied her hair up.

As he turned onto the private road to the winery, Elle drummed her fingers on her bag. "Tell me about your brother and his bride-to-be. What are they like? It'd give me an idea of what they might want."

He pulled the car into the parking lot. "We have plenty of time to talk business, Ellenor. How about eating first? I'm starved." He walked around to open her door before she could reach for the handle.

It was trying having Dean walk almost arm in arm with her through the aisles of wine barrels and into the back where an avalanche of shelves held bottles of red or white. His hand kept brushing hers now and then, and Elle struggled to act calm and collected. Nothing like how she was really feeling inside; all giddy, like a school-aged teenager on her first date. And there she was again, going back to that sense of a first date. Dean kept bringing out a bottle and reading the label, then putting it back again. Otherwise, he had spoken little since they'd entered the estate.

Elle halted. "Do you often do this?" she asked, irate with herself for feeling so coy and self-conscious. "I mean, do you always take people to picnics and vineyards?" Or is it just me? She wondered.

Dean took his time, casually handing her the red he was holding with a smile. "I merely wanted to make sure you didn't feel like I was invading your weekends. It is a Saturday and I am taking you away from family and friends. So I guess I didn't want your day completely wasted." He took another bottle out, eyed the content, then placed the wine back again.

"I'm sorry if today seems inappropriate, Ellenor," he said, and God did she like the sound of her name on his lips. "I enjoy your company."

Elle stared at him. He enjoyed her company? So he was here for her? "I just don't know how to read you, Dean."

"No need to read. Just ask and I'll tell you what's on my mind." He smiled. "I'm not as complicated as I pretend to be."

Elle had to laugh. She grabbed a bottle of white, and they made their way towards the centre. "So, what are you thinking?"

"Honestly?"

Elle took a moment before she nodded. What if what he had to say wasn't pleasant? But then again, what if it is pleasant?

"Honestly."

"I like you," he said, taking the bottles off her hands, perhaps in fear she might smash them on his head. "I always have, ever since Kylie talked about you."

"Chloe," Elle corrected him before she could help herself.

"Since the day Chloe talked about you. Then I saw you, and I won't lie. You have me mesmerised," he said, trailing off. It was the shock on her face that made him nervous. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that. Chloe had warned me you might react this way. In fact, she'd told me not to say anything to you, full stop."

When he turned, she was no longer walking beside him. She had stopped. "Say something."

Elle could no longer hear her own thundering heart. All she knew was she was standing in a cavernous space with aisles of wine and a dashing man who had just confessed that yes, Elle wasn't the only one feeling the spark. She wasn't the only one hanging on the other's every word.

Dean looked nervous, and she saw him take a deep breath. "To answer your question, I don't make a habit of this. In fact, you're the first to see me at my least professional," he breathed.

"Why me?" Elle felt numb. She didn't know how to act. All she knew was, that every cell on her body buzzed. She couldn't be falling again. She'd promised herself she wouldn't, not after Blake.

Dean's amiable smile disappeared. "Because I can't find a reason not to like you."

"I'm just me, Dean. There's nothing special there." She needed air. As much as what just happened was perhaps what she'd been hoping for, the initial feeling of glee was now replaced by dread. What were they supposed to do? Was she supposed to profess her feeling too? And then what? He'd go his way, and she'd go hers? No. She couldn't love again. It was not an option. She had Maya in her life. No time for love. She needed to get out of there.

"Ellenor!" Dean called, but she'd already bolted by the time he'd reached the front of the shop. He placed the wine on the counter and ran after her. She had nowhere to go. He was her ride.

"Ellenor!" He skidded on the gravel. The parking lot was empty, but for his car, which was also empty.

A young man sitting on a stool on the porch cleared his throat. "She ran out the back. She was asking for the restroom."

Dean nodded in gratitude and sat down on the edge of the porch, waiting. How long could she take? Ten minutes later and still no sign of her, he rose to his feet and walked around the building to the back. He cursed himself. Chloe had warned him that Elle would freak out.

He leaned on a wooden fence, trying to appear casual for when she'd come out of the Ladies. He nervously eyed the door, pleading in his head for her to appear. And she did, with a sombre look on her pale face. Had she always been that pale? "Ellenor." Dean straightened. "I'm so sorry."

"I think you should take me back."

There wasn't much point in fighting. He could tell she'd decided. "As you wish."

It was eerie driving back. Every second wedged between them, stretching the space. He was still hungry, but regret suppressed his hunger. It felt like hours before he was parking alongside Elle's car.

They sat, each waiting for the other to break the silence. Dean swallowed. He'd never been as nervous in his life as he was then, sitting next to a woman who was trying so hard to protect herself from him. And all he'd done was tell her he liked her. He hadn't known confessing one's feelings could feel like a crime.

"I hadn't meant to make you uncomfortable," he whispered in the quiet. "I'd understand, I guess, if you change your mind about the job, much as I hope you won't." He drummed his finger on the steering wheel, waiting for her to say anything, anything at all.

Elle nodded. She didn't know what she was going to do about this job, but staying in his car was getting hard. "I have to think about it." She reached for the door.

"Is this goodbye, Ms. Grace?"

Elle had to admit hearing 'Ms. Grace' from him felt harsh. She'd gone from Ellenor to Ms. Grace within an hour. Perhaps it was for the best. "I honestly don't know," she replied, half out of the car.

"Then I'll keep—" he was saying something, but Elle was such a nervous wreck that she stepped out of the car without hearing another word.

"—hoping," he whispered, after the thud of the door and watched her get in her car. Soon she was driving away and within a minute, she was gone. All that lingered of her was the slight scent of perfume, and to his surprise, the information package on the seat.

He eyed Connie's and Cal's diner as his stomach growled, but he didn't have the strength or patience to deal with Connie. He started the engine and pulled away from the lot, not knowing if he was ever coming back.