The Drakes of California

He held up his cup. “To a great assistant, whose help this week has been invaluable.” “To your family, especially the elders,” Marissa replied, her tone more serious than Donovan’s. “Whose vision made this day, and this moment.” And just like that the moment shifted. Her words produced an awareness of who they were and where they were and what they both felt but continued to deny.Donovan’s eyes darkened as he drank in her countenance, focusing on the lips that she licked when nervous, like now. Her eyes searched his as well, noted the fast beat of his heart evidenced by the throb in his neck. She broke the stare and took a nervous sip of wine.But Donovan wasn’t willing, or able, to let the moment go so quickly. He leaned over, slowly, as if dealing with a skittish mare that might bolt from sudden movement, and placed the lightest of kisses on her forehead.“That was beautiful,” he said, his eyes travelling once more to her lips before looking back at her. The moment was gone, but for both of them…the memory lingered.