Jennifer's Garden (5 page)

Heeding the analysis, she worked to open up her heart and reach out to others, pleased to then discover Aurelio.  A good friend of her senior partner, the man had been within reach all along.

Now, engaged to be married, it made no sense the dream was back though it was ironic, she thought at once, struck by the similarities.  Aurelio and her tycoon did resemble one another.  Her mind narrowed in on the visions from last night.  More than their light olive coloring and rich black hair, their mannerisms were quite similar, calm and sophisticated, subtle in speech.  Both shared a taste for fine art and champagne.  Both were affluent, amassed money well beyond their need...

Relieved by the commonalities, her thoughts picked up steam. 
Perhaps it was a sign
.  Not one for crediting the unconscious with more power than it deserved, but Jennifer found it intriguing how dreams could parallel real life.  Almost comforting, as hers seemed to validate the decision to marry Aurelio.

Irritation flared.  A decision Sam had better get used to.  It simply won’t do to have her husband and best friend at odds for the rest of her life.  “Beauty meets beast” should be limited to the movie screen, not the dinner table.

She expelled a sigh.  Much like her yard.  Jennifer’s shoulders slumped.  Alongside the meticulously restored home and the recently refurbished pool, her yard was a wasteland of dirt.  Sandy gray, mounded with anthills, the grass overrun by weeds.  It looked like a junkyard.

Her stomach twisted.  It was no place to host a wedding.

From above, a rapid burst of tweets pierced the quiet, fusing into two long slow chirps, followed by another higher-pitched tempo which cut across the tree tops.  Then silence.  From the distance slid in a long low whistle.

Then again, silence.

A symphony of nature.

The favorite expression of her mother’s dropped Jennifer into the hollows of morning.  With a thud.  There had been a beautiful garden, a host of roses and gardenias, hummingbirds and butterflies, all working together in complete harmony.  Jennifer easily recalled the vivid fragrance of gardenia which drenched the yard in spring, followed by the heavy perfume of jasmine.  Throughout summer her mother’s roses took center stage, an endless supply of fresh cut flowers for the home.

But more than anything, Jennifer remembered the birds.  From every corner they stood watch, peering out from their birdhouses, fluttering about their perches.  The image of her mother fussing over them like children drew a small smile from her lips.  The garden had been her personal retreat.  Her little secret, as she was fond of saying, proclaiming it was the simple joys that created simple pleasures, and simple living was the key to a good life.

Her father agreed, but from the comfort of a garden bench.  Something her mother didn’t seem to mind.  She didn’t need him to share her devotion.  His mere company was enough.

Jennifer inhaled, deep and full, the motion soothing as she longed for the same connection.  Today, as she prepared for her new life, she wanted to capture the same spirit of love in her yard and in her life.  She and Aurelio would make this their home, beginning each and every day with the same devotion, in harmony with nature.

Jennifer emptied her lungs in a ragged breath.  But the yard was nowhere near ready.  She swung her wrist up and checked the time. 
Eight thirty-nine
.

And it never would be, if she didn’t get started and soon.

The sudden sting on her ankle bone snapped her attention in two. 
Ants
.  Stepping back, she searched for the source.  Located at the base of a post she noticed a small pile of sand forming, a trail of dark brown bodies moving toward it from the patio steps in a near straight line.  She groaned aloud.  Enough already.  Jennifer whirled around and marched into her house, slinging the French door closed behind her.

Where was he
?  Didn’t he understand she had a schedule to keep?  She had patients to round on, a cath scheduled for ten.  If this tardiness was a sign of things to come, she may be forced to reconsider her choice of landscaper.

A luxury she could ill afford, but may find necessary.

She strode over to the kitchen counter, grabbed her leather bag and contemplated leaving.  She’d leave a note for him to call and reschedule, perhaps come back this afternoon.  She dumped her purse onto the stone counter and spewed a sigh.

She couldn’t do it this afternoon.  She had a dinner with Aurelio and tomorrow was Sunday.  If she left now, she’d have to wait until Monday before even getting started.

Her hand tightened around the strap of her bag and she pressed her lips into a firm line. 
Darn him
.  She was stuck, and she hated that she was stuck.  If she didn’t need this job started yesterday, she would leave this minute.  Call someone else and fire this man before he drew his first breath of protest.

She glanced at her watch again, reality thrashing her threats to pieces.  But she couldn’t.  There was no time.

At the sound of her doorbell, Jennifer blew out her breath.

She shoved the purse aside and crossed the living room in seconds.  We’ll make this quick and to the point.  I know what I want.  I’ll convey it in clear and concise terms and be on my way.

Inhaling a chestful of air, she tried to regain some of her calm.  Losing her patience with the man would not serve her.  Calm, she reminded herself.  Cool.  Grasping the handle of her door, she controlled the release of her breath like Sam taught her and regained control.  Sam.  Spits of irritation flew.  There was another must-do.  She deserved an earful and would get it the first minute she could give it to her.

Inhaling once again, she forced the stress to loosen its cranky hold and opened the door.  The sight of him shot holes through her composure.  “What are
you
doing here?”

Surprise filled his eyes.  “What...?”

This was the last straw.  If Sam thought she was being cute, Jennifer was going to wax her scalp and rub it with alcohol.  “Look,” she said, clenching her hand around the door knob as her jaw tightened.  “I don’t know why you’re here or what my friend Sam has up her sleeve, but I am expecting someone at the moment and I cannot deal with you right now.”

“
What are you talking about
?”

The bartender from the night before stood firm, his confusion appearing to be genuine.  “I’m talking about you and Sam—last night at the party?” she reminded.  “You two were carrying on about who knows what, but what I do know,” she underscored, “is that I have an appointment to keep.”

His expression revealed nothing.

“Listen, if you’re here to ask me out, I’m sorry but you’ve wasted your time.”

He chuckled.

Her irritation curdled.  “Something amusing?”

“You.  This.”  He gestured about the courtyard entry, brushed a hand through his tangle of hair, then centered his gaze on her.  “I’m not here to ask you out on a date—though if the thought ever were to cross my mind, you’ve made your answer quite clear.”  Quietly self-assured, he laughed again and rested hands on his hips.  “I’m here on business.”

“Business?”

“I’m Jackson Montgomery.  The landscaper.”  He smiled, pride brightening his expression.  “I’m your appointment.”

“
Landscaper
?”  She gaped, feeling the complete idiot.  “You’re not a landscaper, you’re a bartender!”

“Only on the side.”

Jennifer didn’t mean to insult the man, but facts were facts.  You serve up drinks at a party, you’re a bartender.  She grazed over his appearance.  Dressed in jeans and a golf shirt, he didn’t even attempt to portray a professional image—if that was indeed his goal, though she’d still venture to bet Sam had something to do with his being here.  The woman could be a pit bull when she aimed to cause trouble.

“I’m sorry.”  She shook her head and stepped back.  “There must be some kind of mistake.”  Darn if this wouldn’t set her back.  Images of her mother flashed across her mind, mixing with those of her barren backyard, dead leaves floating across the pool’s surface, the awful air of desolation...

“No mistake,” he replied with a smile.  “Montgomery Landscape, at your service.”

“Look,” she said, breaking from the gloomy scenario, her manners waning fast.  “I’m in the market for a landscape architect, not a lawn service.”

“I’m him.  Michael told me what you needed and I can deliver.”

Michael
.  Reality crashed.  She had
trusted
him.  How could he do this to her?  Swimming in turmoil, she stared blankly at the man on her threshold.  The desperate part of her was tempted to accept him and move forward.  Lawn guy, landscape designer, what was the difference at this point?  She needed grass and plants and she needed them now.

But as usual, the sensible part of her took control.  No, she couldn’t settle.  This job was too important to make do with less than the best.  It had to be right and it had to be perfect.  “I’m truly sorry.  There must have been a miscommunication.”  But how?  Michael understood the details of her mother’s condition, he understood her motivation to get this done. 
How could he have sent this man
?

“Is there a problem?”

She blinked.  Jackson stood, casual and confident.

He was waiting.

Yes, there was a problem and time was wasting.  “Listen,” she said, brisker than she intended but under the circumstances, it couldn’t be helped.  “I’m sorry you wasted your time, really I am, but I’m running late for the hospital.”  She held up a hand between them before he could object.  “Don’t worry.  I’ll let Michael know you stopped by and while I appreciate the effort, things didn’t work out.”

He shifted forward, the first hint of discomfort settling in his soft brown eyes.  “Can we talk for a minute?  If you give me the chance, I think I can clear this up.”

Jennifer understood.  He was flustered.  He probably didn’t want to lose the job, the money a big deal in his scheme of things.  While her heart went out to him, she knew direct and honest was the best course of action.  “Mr. Montgomery, is it?”

He nodded, and she in turn smiled.  “This is a big job.  I need a skilled designer to create a master plan for the entire property.  It entails rendering drawings using an in-depth knowledge of plant and foliage selection, color and placement...”  Her line of thought coasted off-message as anticipation surged in his eyes.  Rather than appear disappointed, the man seemed encouraged.  “It’s a complicated situation,” she clarified.  “I need the job done in a hurry.”

An added stress, surely to overwhelm the likes of you, though she’d never say as much.  “I need a guaranteed finish date.  There is no room for error,” she said, her intent clear:  you would be held completely accountable if the job didn’t progress as specified.

“I’m your man.”

“But you tend bar,” she blurted.

“I’m a landscaper,” he corrected.  “My bartending is part-time.”

“Yes, of course...”  She gave a quick nod, regretting the insensitive slip.  He seemed nice enough.  If he wanted to work on the side to earn extra money, fine.  Good for him.

But not on her time.  It was too valuable.  Summoning her most polite smile, Jennifer retreated further into the house with a feeble wave.  “Well, like I said, I have to get to the hospital.  But thanks for coming by...”

“That’s it?”  He held his hands up in question.  “You’re not even going to hear me out?”

She shook her head, and her smile floundered.  “I don’t think so, I’m sorry.”  When he didn’t move, she began to close the door.  “So if you’ll excuse me—"

“Mike really missed the mark on this one.”

The door stopped.

“He said you’d be a pleasure, a real exception to the word client.”  Jackson dropped his hands to his sides.  “But I guess I’ll never get the chance to find out.”  Turning his back on her, the man took his leave.

Michael.  Jennifer squeezed her eyes shut.  He insisted he had gone all out to get this landscaper for her.  Called in a favor, were his exact words.  Said it was the same man who did wonders at his place.  He was certain he could do the same for her.

Opening her eyes, she watched as Jackson Montgomery climbed into the beat-up old truck, slamming the door closed. 
But how could he be the guy
?  It wasn’t possible, was it?  That fellow couldn’t landscape a child’s sand box let alone an incredible estate home like Michael’s.

Could he?

And how was she going to explain her refusal without offending Michael?  Uh, sorry to pressure you for a referral, but I’ve decided against it.  Against him.

Jennifer heaved a sigh.  The truck sputtered to life and accelerated in her drive, wheels screeching out onto the street.  Hope flattened as she closed the front door.  Now what?

# # #

Jax gunned the engine of his 1984 pickup, and peeled out of her driveway.  Now there’s a surprise.  Mike bragged this Dr. Jennifer Hamilton was a notch above the rest.  She’d be an easy job, though it was to be done in a hurry.  But none of that resembled the woman who had just dismissed him.  She was as judgmental as they came, prickly as a rose bush.

As beautiful, too, particularly those incredible blue eyes.  They had jumped out at him last night.  Add creamy white skin combined with her dark brown hair...the combination made her appear fragile.