Third Time's a Charm (14 page)

The symphonic ring of her cell phone jerked Tori away from her computer screen. She glanced at her watch. Almost seven. No wonder her stomach was rumbling. She’d worked nonstop all day, mostly putting out fires for Kate, who was apparently bored with the conference and chose to spend the day tormenting her employees remotely. It was only in the past two hours that the phone had finally quieted down enough to allow Tori to concentrate on her special project. The skeleton of a plan lay before her, frightening in the absence of any real creativity. Just a list of tasks that would need to be performed to produce even the most generic of presentations, but at least it was a start.

She pressed the button to answer the call without looking at the display. “Tori Sanderson.”

“Why are you avoiding me?”

Allie. And she sounded supremely irritated.

“I’m not avoiding you. I’m
working.
” She propped the phone on her shoulder and clicked Save with the mouse. The near-perfect silence surrounding the office outside of her cubicle was broken only by the faint hum of the air conditioner, a sound she never heard during the day before most of the staff had gone home.

“You’re still at work? I figured you’d be home by now.”

Tori toggled the window over to her email and breathed a sigh of relief that there were no new messages from Kate. “Not for a while yet.”

A disgusted grunt sounded in her ear. “You could take a five-minute break to call your sister back. I left, like, a gazillion messages.”

Tori leaned back in her chair and arched her back to stretch muscles stiff from several hours of inactivity. She’d deleted all of Allie’s messages and a couple from Joan as well. There had not been a single free moment to return their calls. “I haven’t taken a break to do anything, even eat.”

A tempting aroma tickled her nose and stirred up an answering rumble in her empty stomach. Pepperoni. Somebody else was still here, and they had pizza. She stood and rose on her tiptoes to look over the top of her cubicle wall, but didn’t spot anyone. Even Mr. Connolly’s office door was closed. He must have left while she was focused on her plan.

“Then it’s time you did. I’ve been waiting all day to hear about your date with Ryan yesterday.”

Tori dropped down off her toes and scowled. “It wasn’t a date. We just had coffee. We were only there about thirty minutes.”

“Yeah, but would you have stayed longer if his nephew hadn’t spilled coffee on you?”

Mom was a blabbermouth. Well, Tori hadn’t asked her not to tell Allie and Joan, so of course she wouldn’t think anything about it. “Maybe.”

“So you had a good time? Up until then, I mean.”

“Yes.”

Tori smiled. Brief answers would drive her nosy sister nuts. She knew very well that Allie wanted details, and lots of them.

“So, what was he wearing? What did you two talk about? Are you going to see each other again?”

Tori picked up a pen and clicked the push button with her thumb as she gave each answer. “Jeans. Nothing much. And yes.”

Disgust flooded Allie’s tone. “You’re being purposefully obstinate. Wait! Did you say yes, you’re going out with him again?”

Tori laughed at her sister’s obvious delight. “That’s right. He’s taking me to dinner tomorrow night.” Then she sobered. “But I don’t know, Allie. I accepted in a moment of weakness, and I’m regretting it. He and I really are way too different.”

“You keep saying that, but I’m not so sure. He’s intelligent, like you. He’s got a good sense of humor, like you. And he’s definitely attractive, don’t you think?”

An image of Ryan’s warm smile and muscled shoulders rose in her mind. She pulled open the bottom drawer of her desk, kicked her shoes off, and propped her feet on the drawer’s edge. “Oh, yeah. But . . .” She bit her lip. “I don’t want to sound like a snob, but he works in a
hardware
store.”

“So you’re only dating lawyers now? Or rich guys?”

Tori heaved a sigh. “It’s not that, honestly. But I don’t know what kind of relationship I could have with someone who doesn’t speak the same language as me, you know? I mean, he wouldn’t even understand what it’s like to work in an office. How could I talk to him about my job, my goals? And what about his? I mean, I just couldn’t work up a lot of sympathy for someone who’s major stress of the day is not being able to help a customer find the right size plumbing tool, or whatever it is they sell in those places.”

A chuckle behind her sent steel into Tori’s spine. She jerked upright, her stocking feet hitting the floor, and swiveled around in her seat. Mitch stood in the doorway of her cubicle, a deeper-than-normal smirk on his face and a pizza box in his hand. Heat rushed into her face. How long had he been standing there?

“I’ve got to go, Allie.” Her voice held all the outrage she could muster as she gave Mitch the evil eye. “I’ve got to deal with an issue.”

“But, I wan—”

She disconnected the call without waiting to hear Allie’s protest and shot to her feet, glaring the whole time into Mitch’s grinning face. “Were you eavesdropping on my private conversation?”

“Hey, I couldn’t help it.” He gestured at the cubicle opening. “No doors, you know.”

Blood roared in her ears, whether from anger or embarrassment, Tori couldn’t tell. “You could have announced your presence instead of standing there listening.”

“Sorry.” He didn’t look one bit sorry with that gloating grin plastered on his face. He raised the pizza box in her direction, like a peace offering. “I was just coming over to see if you wanted some.”

She didn’t allow her face to lose even a touch of her anger, but she didn’t stop him as he sidestepped into the room and circled the perimeter with exaggerated care to keep as much distance between them as possible. He set the box on the edge of her desk and took a backward step, hands held up in a gesture of surrender.

Tori didn’t take her gaze off of him as she reached down and lifted the lid suspiciously. The spicy smell of pepperoni and tomato sauce increased, and her mouth watered painfully in response. She’d had nothing but coffee and soda all day, and her knees felt suddenly weak. Two pieces of pizza lay temptingly within reach. Okay, maybe he was a jerk, but he was a jerk who came bearing food. She managed a grudging “Thanks” as she lifted one of the slices.

He grabbed the guest chair and turned it around to straddle as she returned to her chair. He waited until she bit into the pizza before saying, “So, you’ve got a date with a plumber tomorrow night?”

Great. Just great.

She chewed with exaggerated care while she fixed him with an icy stare. When she swallowed, she said, “He’s not a plumber. He works in a hardware store.”

Mitch shrugged. “Same difference. Only a plumber makes more money.”

The sound of a door opening on the far side of the office interrupted Tori’s sharp retort. Someone else was also working late. Mitch gave her a look full of questions, and she shrugged in response. Then they both stood to look over the tops of the cubicle walls.

Mr. Connolly stood in the doorway of his office. “I hope you’ll take some time to think about it before you make a rash decision, Phil. You’re a valuable asset to the firm.”

Phil Osborne’s muttered reply was barely audible. He strode away from Mr. Connolly’s office around the outer edge of the maze of cubicles, in their direction. Tori and Mitch remained silent as he approached, his head lowered and his shoulders slumped. He didn’t look up as he passed. The defeated expression on his kind face made Tori’s heart ache.

She exchanged a sad glance with Mitch as they both sank back into their chairs.

“I feel so sorry for him,” she whispered. “It’s not fair. He’s been here longer. He’s earned the position.”

Mitch shook his head. “This is business. It doesn’t have to be fair. Kate is a hundred times more aggressive than Osborne. She’ll take this firm to the next level. The partners know that.”

Tori nodded. Mitch was right. Mr. Connolly and Mr. Farrin had to choose the person they thought would be the best for the firm in the long run. It was their company, after all.

Mitch got to his feet. “I’ve had it for today. I’m heading out.” He started for the door but surprised Tori by stepping around the desk and standing next to her chair. He placed a hand on the surface and leaned down, his face inches from hers. She caught a faint whisk of his musky aftershave. “One more thing.” His voice dropped to a whisper as he held her gaze with his. “You and I speak the same language, Tori.”

He was gone before she could gather her whirling thoughts enough to reply.

His footsteps faded away until the only sound she could hear was the pounding of her heart. There had been no hint of his trademark grin as Mitch uttered those astounding words. In fact, his eyes had held a note of sincerity she’d never seen in her handsome co-worker. And her pulse was stuttering like a lovesick teenager’s in response.

With a slow motion, she set the pizza back in the box. She didn’t think she could eat another bite.

8

The wipers scraped away the drizzle on Ryan’s windshield as he drove down Fourth Street. The sky was a solid, gloomy gray, but the TV weatherman promised the cloud cover would break up by evening. Hopefully by the time he got out of class and headed to Lexington for his date with Tori.

Up ahead he spotted his destination, a florist shop in an old converted brick house. A white picket fence enclosed the tiny front yard, and striped green-and-white awnings covered the windows. He didn’t work until ten on Tuesdays, so he still had twenty minutes. Plenty of time to pick up some flowers. He pulled into the driveway and parked in a small lot in the back.

A strand of jingling bells on the back of the door announced his presence. He paused to look around. A clash of colors and smells threatened to overload his senses. Baskets hung from the ceiling, and vines draped over shelves lined with vases. Against the wall to his right, three—no, four huge arrangements on easels were lined in a row, one with a white ribbon proclaiming
In Sympathy
in gold letters. Several other brightly colored bouquets rested on the floor beneath the spindly pole legs. Looks like they were getting ready to make a big delivery for a funeral or something. Against the back wall stood a wide, refrigerated storage case with a dozen smaller bouquets on shelves inside, the glass doors fogged as though someone had just opened them. The sweet scent of flowers permeated the room.

A woman came through a doorway beside the case, wiping her hands on a green apron. “Hello. Are you here to pick up an order?”

“Uh, no.” Ryan shoved his hands in his pockets. “I wanted to get some flowers for tonight.”

A smile appeared on her broad face. “Big date?”

“First date.” He glanced at the bouquets in the case. “But I didn’t call ahead. Was I supposed to?”

She dismissed that with a flick of her hand. “Not necessarily. I can fix something up quickly. Not red roses, since this is a first date. Did you have sometime specific in mind?”

“Daisies. There’s a special color she likes. Some strange color I never heard of.” He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to remember the word. Not fuchsia. “Gerber, or something like that.”

The woman’s stare was blank for a moment, then she covered a sudden grin with her hand. “Do you mean Gerbera?”

Ryan snapped his fingers. “That’s it.”

Her laughter broke forth and sent an answering wave of dismay through him. Was she laughing at him?

The laughter ended abruptly, and she patted his arm in a motherly gesture. “That’s not a color, honey. It’s a kind of flower. Here, let me show you.”

Ryan followed her to the case and watched as she opened the door and pulled out a round glass vase stuffed with huge multicolored blooms. They looked like psychedelic daisies on steroids.

He fingered one delicate red petal. “They’re giant daisies?”

“Actually, they’re in the sunflower family.”

Made sense. None of the blooms in this arrangement were white with yellow centers, like the daisies he knew. But the reds, yellows, and pinks were certainly more vibrant than the traditional kind. “So, how much is this bouquet?”

“Forty-nine ninety-five plus tax.”

Ryan winced. Fifty bucks for flowers? He sure hadn’t anticipated that.

She saw his expression. “This is a deluxe arrangement, though. I can put together something smaller for you, if you like.”

He gulped. He hated to seem like a cheapskate, but . . . “What can you do for around twenty-five?”

Her smile became sympathetic. “Let me see. I’ll be right back.”

She set the vase back on the shelf and disappeared through the doorway. Ryan examined the other flowers in the case. A couple of huge vases of roses, their deep red blooms startling and beautiful amid leafy green foliage. If this place got fifty bucks for a dozen giant daisies, how much would a dozen roses cost? His gaze slid sideways. Maybe he could afford that one, with only three flowers. No, Allie said roses were too formal for a first date, and the florist mentioned the same thing.

He closed the glass door, his fingers twitching with sudden nerves. Apparently there was a whole list of do’s and don’ts associated with first dates that he knew nothing about. Where did women learn this stuff? There ought to be a class or something a guy could take.

She had only been gone a few minutes when she returned carrying a smaller version of the same bouquet. “How’s this look?”

Ryan inspected it with relief. Only six flowers, but the artful arrangement looked real nice. She’d even tied a pretty red bow around the neck of the vase. “It’s great. Thank you.”

She grinned. “No problem. I hope she likes it.”

Ryan paid her and left, carrying the vase to the car carefully in both hands. He hoped so too.