The Bouquet List (5 page)

“What would you want to have for your wedding?”

She turned to him and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “Me?” She laughed, a light and sweet sound. “A wedding? That’s one thing I’m not planning on. Ever.”

“Really? Why not?”

“I guess it feels like another expectation for me, like something I’m
supposed
to do. Even if I did decide to have a ceremony, I couldn’t imagine that he’d be a Greek guy, so a wedding in a flashy place like the Palace wouldn’t suit me. I’m planning on meeting a guy on a beach on the other side of the world and just going where the mood takes us.”

He couldn’t stop himself from frowning, still trying to reconcile the image he’d always had of Yasmin with the colorful creature sitting in his coupe. Her sexiness had shocked him when they’d met in the tea shop, but now he was more intrigued by the fact that he still felt that way about her when they were clearly so different.

“How about you?” Her voice softened. “Are you after the big wedding?”

His fingers curled around the steering wheel. “Absolutely. But I have no illusions. Finding the right person will take time and consideration. I guess it’s like my new restaurant—it’s something I’ve always aspired to, and when the time was right I made it happen. When I do find her, I want a marriage that I can be proud of, a relationship that’s alive and evolving.” Before she could ask him any more he said, “I reckon Nick will want to have a traditional wedding too.”

“Ooooh, yes. Nick will want to have the expensive white wedding and the wife who does what he tells her to. She’ll be from the right sort of family and know that she’s never quite going to be his equal. He and Dad have always thought that women were a little hopeless.”

“That’s a little harsh.”

She looked out her side window and smoothed the fabric of her skirt. “They can be a bit Neanderthal at times.”

“I think they both care a lot about you.” Lane slowed for a red light and turned to her. “There’s a lot worse you could have in your life than people who are looking out for you.”

“Of course.”

“When are you going to tell Nick about what’s happening with your parents?”

She shrugged. “I’ll let them decide that. I think Dad’s hoping he’ll have Mom back here by the end of the week and that Nick and Ari will be none the wiser, but I don’t like secrets. I tried to Skype Mom after you left this morning, but she wasn’t at my aunt’s. I’ll call her tomorrow and see how she is and what’s she’s going to tell my brothers. Hey, look,” she said, pointing out the window. “You and Nick used to do karate in that old building, didn’t you?”

“You remember that?”

“Of course. I used to come watch you sometimes.”

He sensed she didn’t want to talk about her family anymore, so he turned the conversation back to the restaurant. “We’ll need to win a whole new crowd who want something more contemporary and a little bit European in our redesign. Have you been to Costa’s?”

Her shoulders relaxed and she stopped stroking the fabric of her dress. “No, but I’ve heard of him. I haven’t been home much since I moved to California for college.”

“I let Costa know we were coming. I’ve done advisory work for him in the past, so I asked if he could be there tonight for a quick chat after we’ve eaten, and he agreed.”

“Have you been seeing her for a while?”

Lane frowned, unsure whom Yasmin was talking about. “Sorry, who?”

She’d started the fabric-stroking thing again and he sat forward in his seat. Behind that newly confident exterior there were still hints of the reserved girl he’d known, and he couldn’t figure her out. He stopped at a red light. His old high school was on the corner, and he tried to think back to what Yasmin was like when they were younger. Why were his memories of her so vague?

“The girl tomorrow.”

“Oh, Lisa. We meet regularly. I have a charity organization that picks up leftover food from supermarkets and restaurants and delivers it to soup kitchens. She coordinates the work, and we catch up from time to time about it. Chances are we’ll spend most of the evening talking about that. Why?”

“Oh, no reason.” She still looked nervous, smoothing her dress and looking out the window. “I was just wondering if she’d be okay with us going to the wedding together. You spending a whole day with another woman.”

“It’s not a date, and most people who know me understand that work’s the most important thing in my life. Besides, you’re my best friend’s little sister. What could anyone be worried about?”

He looked across at her and the tiniest of smiles curved her mouth. Each time she stroked the skirt of her dress, his pulse gave an extra beat and his grip on the steering wheel tightened. What would it be like to be the one stroking that thigh? Kissing the smile on those lips? Abruptly, he turned his attention back to the windshield and focused on the road in front. Those were questions he’d never know the answer to, and must never attempt to find out.

…

How in the name of all good things did you go about seducing your older brother’s best friend? Or any guy that you’d only ever admired from afar, and only imagined talking to in your dreams?

Did you start by removing your shoe and slowly rubbing his leg under a table with your toes? Yasmin had seen that in a movie once, and the guy had thought there was a spider crawling up his leg, leaped up, and spilled a bowl of minestrone all down his white pants. She couldn’t imagine Lane ever wearing white pants, so maybe she could try that.

Perhaps she could mention she’d been thinking about how hard his pecs might be when she passed him the butter in the restaurant. She suppressed a cough. Truth be told, she couldn’t imagine saying something like that without her face getting so red it burst into flames.

As they drove toward the restaurant, her stomach began to twist in tighter and tighter knots. Talking about when they were younger made her remember that feeling of being invisible, as though Lane could only ever see straight through her. What was she going to do now that would make him start to really notice her?

Chapter Four

Sitting at a corner table in Costa’s Greek restaurant while Lane talked about profit margins on entr
é
es and the finer points of a good dessert, all Yasmin could do was watch the way his strong jaw moved and the way his eyes lit up when he talked about his businesses.

That he was the perfect candidate for number five on her list wasn’t an issue; the question was more about whether he’d be into a casual relationship for fun and mutual satisfaction, and whether he even found her attractive. There was no getting Dutch courage from a glass of wine or two; her damaged liver from the dengue fever had made sure of that. She took a sip of her sparkling water.

Of course she could just wait and see if anything developed between them, but that would be living by her old rules. Her life from now on was about taking each day by the scruff of its neck and shaking it until she got what she wanted. And what she wanted was Lane’s strong arms wrapped around her.

The problem was that everything she’d done so far to flirt with him had been an abysmal failure. She’d twirled her hair and he’d wondered if that was a good idea given the trauma it had gone through with the coloring. She’d rested her chin on her hands and looked at him while he’d talked and he’d said her octopus would get cold. He’d commented on the brightness of her dress, mentioned numerous embarrassing incidents from when they were growing up, and given a confused sort of smile when she said that they had a lot in common these days.

He didn’t smile much, but when he did, it was as if he’d been considering whether the moment was worthy enough to bestow one of his warm grins on it, and it sent little fingers of light through her body. She had to keep remembering that his aloofness was a big part of his charm, and a part of the challenge. There must be a way to burrow under that thick skin, a way to find a relaxed and fun-loving Lane within the buttoned-down exterior. She just had to work out a way to release him, and perhaps the buttons on that shirt he was wearing. There was no time like the present.

“Do you think I’ve changed?” She realized she was interrupting his list of possible new menu choices, but if she didn’t get this seduction ball rolling soon it might never happen.

He looked up, his fork poised in midair, and his eyes sparked. “Of course. The braids you had when you were ten weren’t purple.” He stabbed at something on the plate in front of him and held it up. “You haven’t tried this squid yet. The way they’ve braised it with currants and red wine is unusual, but it works. It’s probably not a great choice for a wedding, but it’d be a nice appetizer on the regular restaurant menu.”

“Have I changed in a good way or a bad?”

“Good, of course,” he said and continued chewing, but he frowned. “But I thought you were fine before.”

Fine?
God, she really wasn’t good at this.

He pointed with his fork to the walls and furniture, completely oblivious to the first of her seduction techniques. “How do you think this decor works? I like the turquoise and silver color scheme to represent the colors of Greece, but I’d probably make it even more contemporary—use more glass and brushed metal but with the budget—”

“I didn’t realize you’d noticed me before.” She did the slow blink thing that Genie had insisted would be guaranteed to get his attention. It felt like she was one of those openmouthed clowns at the fair, waiting for him to put a ping-pong ball in her mouth.

There was that warm grin again. It was small and hard won, but it was worth the wait. “I noticed you when you followed Nick and me around, wanting to know how our toy guns worked, pleading with us to help you with one of your experiments.”

She took another mouthful of the water and let her shoulders relax as the bubbles tickled the roof of her mouth. He’d been surprised when she said she wouldn’t have a glass of wine. She’d thought about disclosing her illness, but she still wasn’t sure that he wouldn’t tell her parents, or worse, stop her from being involved at all.

“I noticed you all the time.” There, she’d said it. She held her breath.

“Why, because you were wondering if I’d try to put a frog down your back?”

She didn’t answer, just stared at him the way Genie had promised would have him begging for her to touch him. He looked up and the expression on his face changed and he gave a small cough. “Don’t tell me you had a
crush
on me.”

Was his emphasis on “crush” because he was completely horrified by the concept, or because he’d been hoping for so long that she’d felt that way that he couldn’t believe she’d finally said it? She had a nasty feeling it was the former. And what a horrible word “crush” was anyway, sort of immature and desperate. Is that the way she was behaving now? Suddenly she felt very tired, and the warning her doctor had given her to take things easy these next few weeks rang in her head. But she’d started this now.

The familiar sound of her mindfulness bell in her bag punctuated the air between them.

No chickening out.

“Of course I had a crush on you. You must have known that.”

He chuckled, and when she didn’t respond, the smile slipped from his face.

“I still do.”

He stopped chewing but didn’t say anything. Then he swallowed and his face became even more serious.

She placed the knife and fork beside her plate and forced words beyond the band tightening around her throat. “I had a wake-up call in Borneo. Being so far away from home made me reassess things.”

“In what way?”

“I’ve always been a careful person, Lane, someone who’ll weigh up the odds and always go with the completely safe bet, but I was denying myself a whole lot of life experiences. Since I was challenged overseas, faced difficult times, then overcame them, I realized I had the power to live my own life.”

He was nodding slowly. “The purple hair. Taking time off your studies. You’re trying something new.”

He smiled as if he completely understood what she meant, and the positive tone to his voice made her heart skip.

“Yes, and the nose stud, and a whole lot of other things that I’ve always been too careful to try. I’ve made a list of everything I’ve promised to do for myself, and you’re on there too.”

…

He put down his fork and tried to hide his shock at what she’d just said. “You mean working with me on the restaurant renovation? I thought you only decided to do it when your mother went back to Greece.”

She took another drink, but a rose tint blossomed on her cheeks and it was all at once sexy and sweet. “No, I mean seducing you.
That
was on my list.”

He stopped moving…and blinking. In fact, he had to remind himself to take another breath.

Her dark brown eyes were fixed on him. “Oh.” He put his fork on the plate and then carefully lined it up with his knife. “That’s not what I was expecting.”

“Because you don’t find me attractive?”

“Well, no, I mean yes, it’s…” He cleared his throat. He couldn’t tell her how he’d felt that first time he saw her, or what it was like sitting here with her now with her fresh face and her aura of fun. “We haven’t seen each other in years, Yasmin. I only really remember you as a little kid, and now your dad’s… Your father has asked me to be his project manager for this. He told me to keep…”

She spoke more forcefully. “Dad told you to keep what?”

He picked up his napkin, wiped his hands, then put it down again. “Your dad called me from the airport and asked me to keep an eye on you while he and your mother weren’t here.”

Yasmin sighed hard. “I guess looking after myself for the last five years, working halfway across the world, and being self-sufficient and successful all happened by accident.”

He rested his arms on the table. “Should I be worried about this list? That you’re going to start doing a whole lot of things that are out of character?” The glow on her cheeks suggested that’s exactly what she would do.

“The things I want to do now aren’t out of character for me, they’re simply not what people expect. If I hadn’t made the commitment to go after the things I really wanted in my life, then I wouldn’t have dreamed of saying these things. I wouldn’t have had the courage. But the fact is I don’t want to live that way anymore. I’m going to do what I want rather than what is expected of me, go after the things I didn’t have the confidence to ask for. That includes you.”

Lane kept his eyes fixed on Yasmin’s face. Listening to her explain in well-thought-out and logical detail why he should let himself be seduced by her would have had any other guy in this room on the edge of his seat or halfway out the door with her hand in his. She was beautiful and intelligent, and had a laugh that made people turn around and smile. But he wasn’t a regular guy, and the sooner she understood that, the better.

For one thing, he didn’t want a relationship with anyone right now. He was about to build a brand-new restaurant in one of the most prestigious hotel chains in the world, he kept antisocial hours, and he didn’t need any distractions.

Not only that, when there had been no one else to turn to as a kid, when Lane had been traded back and forth between his parents like a bad debt, he’d come to understand that you made only a few real friends like Nick Katsalos in your life. To say that Nick had saved his sanity when they were growing up might sound like the script from a soap opera, but it was true. Lane would do anything for Nick and his family.

Lane was the guy who’d been charged by Mano Katsalos to keep an eye on his daughter until he got back. Mano was his best friend’s father, and you did what he asked. It was one thing to disappoint a girl whose family he didn’t know, but when any relationship he might have with Yasmin broke down, as it surely would given how different they were, she’d still have her family, but he wouldn’t. And he couldn’t risk that happening.

Yasmin was sitting across from him, her face flushed and her fingers knit together in front of her as if she were waiting for him to pass down a sentence. Her hair was pulled off her face and the tiny diamond in her nose twinkled under the restaurant lights.

“Yasmin, I…”

“I’ve embarrassed you, haven’t I?” She gave him a rueful smile. “Well, join the club, but I won’t apologize for going after something that I want, and I’m not changing my mind. I’m not unattractive, you and I have had some great laughs together, and we’re both going to be moving along in a few weeks, so what have we got to lose?”

He scratched his head, as if putting his hand a little closer to his brain might give him some inspiration for getting out of this without hurting her feelings. Not unattractive? That was the understatement of the year. Yasmin had always been striking with her long black hair and her high Grecian cheekbones, but now, with her new hair color and the out-there way she was dressing, she was the sort of person you’d crane your neck to get another look at. What could a woman like her see in someone as focused and predictable as him?

“Yasmin, I’m flattered, I really am. But I’ve promised your dad we’ll have an updated restaurant opening a month from now. That’s my priority.” He shifted the napkin from one side of his plate to the other. “You don’t really want a guy like me. Look at you. You should be with some artsy type, a poet or an architect at least. Someone who likes socializing. And I’m none of those things.”

She touched the delicate butterfly at her neck. Damn if it wasn’t one of the sexiest things about her. A headache bit behind his eyes. Was he mad? Had the grinding hours of work and the lonely road of being in charge and making money fried every cell in his brain?

She lifted a slim shoulder and her eyes twinkled. “Well, I guess you can’t blame a girl for trying.”

“Dessert? We have pistachio ice cream or a delicious cardamom cream pie.”

Oh God, not more whipped cream!

The waiter stood in front of them and a smile slowly spread across Yasmin’s face. She looked back at Lane, and he’d never wished so hard that he could be someone completely different, someone who could live life on a whim like she obviously could. But whims were transitory and fleeting, and that wasn’t the way he wanted to live his life, or the way he’d treat relationships.

“Well, the least you can do is be a gentleman and share a piece of cream pie.”

He looked into her eyes and wondered, now that he knew what she wanted from him, how he could keep away from her for a month.

…

Yasmin sat in the Palace restaurant the next day, waiting for Lane to appear. She’d been making notes on her laptop getting ready for their meeting this morning, but now she stared at the screen as her thoughts wandered to last night.

What a complete and absolute embarrassment she’d been to herself. Why had she intellectualized it all and tried to explain what she wanted? If she’d just done what most normal people do—find the right moment then make a move—things might have turned out differently. She picked up the remains of her breakfast, a piece of Leo’s warm olive bread, and chewed. And if Lane hadn’t been such a gentleman and tried to change the subject after she’d embarrassed him beyond belief, she quite likely wouldn’t have come out from under her rock this morning.

They’d ended the night with him dropping her home, and she’d apologized for making him feel weird about her proposition, but told him she was glad she’d said it. He’d just smiled and said that he’d forget all about it.

She brushed crumbs from her orange silk batwing top.
Get your act together.
Feeling sorry and embarrassed wouldn’t cut the mustard anymore. If her hair hadn’t turned out, she’d have just tried again, wouldn’t she? If her nose stud wasn’t quite right, she’d fix it. Just because her first choice of tall, dark, and way-out-of-her-league didn’t want her for now, then she’d either have to keep on trying, or find someone who would. In the meantime she was practicing Italian for an hour every morning.

Suddenly, the Skype alert jumped on her laptop screen. Her mom was calling from Greece. They’d arranged to speak at noon, time for Yasmin to mentally prepare herself for seeing her mother for the first time since she’d changed her look, and time for her meeting with Lane to be over. Should she answer it or just let it ring? The thought of her mother sitting nervously in front of a borrowed computer, maybe desperate to talk, was too much to bear and she clicked to make the connection.