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“Jimmy just graduated.” She’d helped the kid get his feet on the ground. “Your son’s not ready to take on all the landscaping.”
Cade’s lips flattened into straight lines. “This is the way it has to be.”
“I can drum up more business. If you advertise, we’d attract more customers.” The words shot out of her mouth like BBs from a pellet gun.
He shook his head. Cade was brilliant with retail plants and flowers but hated marketing. “Between two years of droughts and the cold, wet spring, I can’t afford you.”
She couldn’t lose her job. “What about our arrangement on my flower-design business?” she whispered.
“I hope you’ll keep getting your flowers through me.” Cade pulled on his white hair. “You can still use the workroom and coolers.”
She paced in the hallway, fighting back the urge to tell Cade to shove it. Being impulsive had gotten her into too much trouble in her life.
“Do you—” her voice cracked “—want me to clean out my stuff?”
“I can give you two weeks.” Cade pushed out of his chair. It groaned as he stood. “How would that be?”
Two weeks. “I guess.”
This job had been perfect for her. She’d been able to juggle her hours at the B and B with her hours at King’s Gardens. Cade had also let her run her wedding-flower business from his shop. How would she find another boss so flexible?
Two more weeks of a job she loved. Her pulse pounded in her ears. “Let me help with the marketing.”
He let out a big exhale. “I’m sorry.”
This always happened to her. If she loved something, it was wrenched from her hands. She knew better than to fall for people or things.
How many examples did she need? She’d lost Papa first. Then her just-remodeled bedroom was the first room used for the B and B. And of course there’d been Daniel. At seventeen she’d loved him as only a teenager could. She gulped. He’d rejected her. Following that disaster had been her ex-boyfriend and their business. Now this job.
Driving home, she chewed her thumbnail. She’d been fired. Fired. On autopilot, she parked behind her building and grabbed the mail on the way to her third-floor apartment.
Tossing envelopes and catalogs on the table, she stripped. Her clothes hit the overflowing pile in her closet. After a quick shower, she threw on shorts and a tank top.
What would she do now? She ripped a hand through her wet hair. With slumped shoulders, she filled her sprayer and moved around the apartment, spritzing her orchids.
The dendrobium orchids were opening. Maybe she’d work the snow-white flowers into a table arrangement for Mamma’s wedding. If her Black Caesar cattleya would bloom, she’d add the ruffled rich fuchsia blossoms to her mother’s wedding flowers.
Grabbing the mail, she flopped onto the chaise on her tiny balcony and stared at the ripening tomatoes. She could eat one or two for dinner. But she didn’t move.
Voices and laughter carried from the street. How could people be happy?
The doorbell buzzed. Bess forced herself to the door and peered through the peephole.
Daniel? She pressed a hand to her stomach. She hated that her tummy flopped every time she saw him.
She opened the door. “Collecting rent in person?”
He shook his head. “Got a minute?”
She nodded, not opening the door any farther.
He rolled his eyes.
Back when she was a stupid teenager, his deep brown eyes had filled her dreams. She used to scribble his name all over her notebook and practiced writing Bess Forester.
“Will you let me in?” Irritation filled his voice.
She huffed out a sigh, opening the door. He walked by and she caught a whiff of his sandalwood scent. Her stomach clenched. He’d worn the same cologne ten years ago.
“Want something to drink?” She tugged on her tank top, wishing she wasn’t wearing her oldest and rattiest clothes. “I might have a couple of beers.”
Daniel rubbed his head, as if he had to think about this.
“If we have a beer together, I’m not going to rip off your clothes.” That had taken her a lot more beers ten years ago.
He frowned, as though he could hear her thoughts. “I guess a beer would be okay.”
She pointed to her balcony. “Grab a chair.”
“I don’t know how you live in this jungle.” Daniel waved a hand at her lush flowers and plants. “Are you sure they won’t attack?”
“They might.” And if there was justice in the world, they’d attack him. Unfortunately, ten years too late. “If I were you, I wouldn’t sit too close.”
He raised a blond eyebrow but headed outside.
On the way to the kitchen, she swept up the newspaper spread over the coffee table and shoved it into the recycling bin. The place wasn’t filthy. She rubbed her neck. It was sloppy, just like her outfit.
Who cared? This was Daniel. The only time he’d been attracted to her was when he’d been drunk.
Since that night ten years ago, she’d never seen him drunk. Never seen him lose control. Who could live that way?
She popped the caps off two beers and took a deep swallow of liquid courage.
Why was he here? For ten years they’d made avoiding each other an art form. As close as their families were, if she knew Daniel was going to be around, she kept her distance. Up until that night ten years ago, she’d followed him around as if she were a drooling puppy. Her face flamed. Her crush had been painful. When he’d worked with his father at Fitzgerald House, she’d used any excuse to hang around him.
He’d just thought she was a kid.
The bottles clanked as she headed to her balcony.
His long legs filled her lounge chair.
He took the beer. “Southbound. My favorite.”
Of course it was his favorite. Now she’d have to find another brand.
“Cheers.” He raised his bottle.
She didn’t clink her bottle with his. Taking a gulp, she smacked the bottle down on the glass table sitting between their chairs. “What do you want?”
“Jesus, Bessie, can’t we be civil?” Daniel pushed sun-bleached hair off his forehead.
She remembered how silky those strands of hair felt between her fingers. “When I look at you, I don’t feel particularly civilized.”
One golden eyebrow arched up.
“So is this visit about my rent?” She took another gulp and choked. “What kind of increase will I be looking at in October?”
Bess hoped not much. Without her King’s Gardens income, she’d have to economize. No more new orchids.
Daniel picked at the bottle label with his thumbnail. “I’m not here about rent.”
“So there’s no increase this year?” What a relief.
He closed his eyes and shook his head. “We couldn’t figure out another way to do this.”
She frowned. “Do what?”
“Finance the Carleton House work.” He leaned forward. “We’re turning these apartments into condominiums.”
“Condos?” She dropped her feet to the floor.
“The market’s hot. Ask your future brother-in-law.”
She didn’t need to ask Abby’s fiancé, Gray, about the market. She knew real estate prices were going back up.
“I’m sorry.” Daniel swung his legs over the side of the chair, brushing hers. “We’re not renewing your lease. I...my parents wanted me to warn you.”
“This is my home.” She waved a hand, almost clipping his jaw. “I’ve lived here for four years. I helped your dad paint every apartment.”
“I know.” He held up his hands. “We need the cash.”
“Get Gray to put up more money.” She threw both hands in the air, knocking his arm.
His lips formed a straight line. “We can’t.”
“Yes, you can.” She couldn’t deal with this on top of losing her job. And to have Daniel come here and...and announce she was losing her home was wrong.
“This is my place.” Her sanctuary. “The light in the apartment is perfect for my orchids. Where will I find fifteen-foot ceilings?”
“Slow down.”
“No!” This day had gone from bad to heading for the Dumpster. Her fingers clenched into tight balls of fury.
He stood. “I’m sorry.”
She jumped up, not willing to have him tower over her. “Let me stay.”
“We can’t.”
“How about a...a contract for deed.” She could pay them over time.
“We can’t. This is for Carleton House. For your family.” Pity filled Daniel’s eyes. “We need you out by September thirtieth.”
“The thirtieth?” she squeaked.
He stared at her fists. The idiot backed up, holding his hand in front of his face.
“Oh, good Lord, I won’t break your nose.” She threw her hands in the air.
“Are you sure?” Daniel took another step back and stumbled over the lounge chair. “You’ve broken it before.”
“I was seventeen.” And he’d just told her that sleeping with her had been the biggest mistake of his life. “It wasn’t on purpose.”
“I’ve never been sure it was an accident.”
She glared at him. “We’re not talking about that night. Ever.”
CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_9c4fcf07-fbe2-5a65-ab18-241dbb0e9008)
I love to smell flowers in the dark... You get hold of their soul then.
Lucy Maud Montgomery
BESS ALMOST TRIPPED on the uneven sidewalk.
It had been four days since Daniel, the villain, had said he was kicking her out of her home. Okay—not fair. They were selling her apartment. An hour ago he’d called and said he had the asking price. They were meeting at Becca’s Coffee Shop.
Didn’t Daniel remember what had happened here? Ten years ago, this had been Dora’s Café. Bess had run into Daniel here and he’d looked so sad, she’d been determined to cheer him up. Even though he’d been in college, she’d invited him to a party on Tybee.
He’d been hers for exactly six hours. Six wonderful hours until midnight. Then, after losing her virginity, the magic had disappeared. Daniel had been appalled that they’d had sex. He’d left her broken and rejected.
His words echoed in her head. I can’t believe I lost control. This should never have happened. It won’t happen again.
Even after his rejection, the next weekend she’d driven to Georgia Tech, hoping to convince him that they could be together.
Daniel had humiliated her. He’d accused her of getting him drunk. She was the reason he’d been out of control. Because of her pushing, they’d slept together. When he was around her, he lost sight of right from wrong.
That four-hour drive back to Savannah had been the worst time of her life.
Bess shook her head, shook away the past. Was Daniel really so cruel that he wouldn’t recognize where the worst night of her life had started?
The door jangled as she entered. After buying a cup of tea, she found an open table.
Daniel walked in wearing a Braves ball cap, and T-shirt and jeans that outlined the muscles he’d developed since the last time she’d touched him. It wasn’t fair that he was the hottest man in the coffee shop.
He nodded and headed to the counter.
Anger bubbled up inside her like a boiling kettle. She shoved it away. All she wanted was the price of her apartment. Then she’d leave.
