Mad About You (10 page)

Julie crossed her arms. “Gee, Hyacinth, I really appreciate the ideas you’re giving me, even though they’re what you did in the past.”

The woman smiled like a shark and patted her arm. “I just want the competition to be fair. I feel like I have such an advantage, having won it for the past five years in a row. Of course, I do have an edge with my advanced degrees.”

She pulled her arm away and looked at the spot where the woman had touched it. Great—now she was going to have to disinfect. “Are you done yet? Because I’m closing up.”

“Of course.” Hyacinth adjusted her purse on the crook of her arm. “Call me if you need help, okay?”

“Right.” Julie glared daggers as her nemesis sashayed out of her store. She was still glaring at the door when it reopened and her best friend stepped inside.

Sophie smiled with her multimillion-dollar smile. “If you greet all customers with that look, it’s a wonder you have anyone buying flowers from you.”

Julie picked up her clippers and brandished them. “I’m going to kill her. Will you help me hide her body?”

Sophie blinked. “Whose body?”

“
Dr.
Hyacinth Gardner,” she said, spitting out each syllable.

“Satan’s handmaiden?”

“Yes.”

“She was here again?” Sophie asked incredulously. “Doesn’t she have the sense to know you’re close to going homicidal on her ass?”

“
Close?
” She held up the clippers. “Does this only look close?”

Sophie pushed her hand down. “Don’t get me wrong, I’ll help you dispose of anyone’s body, because that’s what friends do, but I’m wearing silk today. Blood doesn’t come out of silk too easily.”

“You’re saying you need a heads up to dress appropriately.”

Sophie set her bag down and hopped onto the counter, her normal spot. “You’ve got to dress for success.”

Julie thought about the way
Dr.
Hyacinth Gardner dressed and frowned down at her jeans. “Maybe I don’t look like a flower champion.”

“What are you talking about?”

“If you have to dress for success, what do I dress like? A homeless person?”

Her friend gaped at her. “Did that woman drug you?”

“I’m just saying maybe I don’t look like a winner.” She studied the green blocks she was carving. “Maybe it’s crazy to think I can win. Hyacinth has a doctorate.”

“In what?” Sophie asked, pulling out her notebook and pen. “Being a bitch?”

Julie’s lips quirked. “She double majored.”

“What’s up with you?” Sophie tipped her head and studied her, obviously trying to decipher her. “I’ve never seen you act anything but secure.”

“You’ve only known me two seconds.”

“It’s been at least four seconds, and it’s been concentrated time. Most couples contemplating marriage haven’t spent as much time together as you and I have.”

It was true. Aside from being one of the top grossing actors in Hollywood, Sophie was an aspiring screenplay writer and, oddly, did most of her writing in Back to the Fuchsia. She wrote her first script, which was being released in theaters in the winter, sitting on Julie’s counter.

But she’d met Sophie after she lost last year’s flower competition, and now there was Scott—and the lovely blonde Elise wanted to set him up with. Except Scott kept insisting he wanted to take
her
to the wedding.

Julie shook her head. “I’m just saying she has an advantage on me with her education.”

“There’s more going on here than you’re letting on.” Sophie patted the counter. “Want to lie down and tell me all about it?”

“No.”

“You know what I think?”

“No, and I don’t want to know.”

“This is about that man you met.”

Julie said nothing. Why had she thought it’d be nice to talk to Sophie? Maybe if she ignored her, Sophie would take the hint and go home.

“I think you like him,” her friend said, “and you’re intimidated by him.”

She wasn’t intimidated by Scott, but Zoe and her perfect hair and many degrees unnerved her. “You also think lettuce should be drunk instead of chewed.”

“Don’t mock my green juices. And don’t think I can’t see that you’re trying to change the subject.”

Julie threw her hands in the air. “Fine. Scott’s mom is trying to set him up with another woman to take to the wedding.”

Sophie frowned. “And Scott hasn’t shot her down?”

“I don’t think he takes it seriously. He keeps asking me to the wedding.”

“And you’re going with him,” her friend said as if it were a foregone conclusion.

She frowned.

“Julie, you’re going with him to the wedding, aren’t you?” When she didn’t answer, Sophie exclaimed, “Aren’t you dating him?”

“Not really.” He’d taken it to heart to keep their relationship clandestine, which made her happy and annoyed her, too—and that annoyed her more, because she never figured herself to be the sort of person who’d ask for one thing and then be disgruntled when she got it.

“Wait”—Sophie held her hand up—”you aren’t seeing him?”

“Well, he comes over, yes.” She felt herself flush under her friend’s quirked brow. “We’ve been meeting secretly so his mom doesn’t find out, so he comes over, hangs out, bugs me about going to the wedding with him, and leaves in the morning.”

Her friend shook her head, her mouth gaping. “And he’s okay with this arrangement?”

“Not really.”

“Tony wouldn’t have been either.” Sophie studied her. “But you like him.”

“His mother imported a blonde to go with him to the wedding.” Julie frowned. “I wish I could be angry about that but who can blame her? Elise wants the best for her son, and Zoe is the type of woman you’d expect Scott to end up with.”

“It doesn’t sound like Scott agrees.”

She shrugged. “Zoe’s perfect for him. She’s gone to Harvard and has an MBA. I never even took classes at a junior college.”

“It’s not about education. Plenty of successful people never went to college.”

“Yes, but when you have billions no one cares. I don’t have billions.”

“You don’t need billions to be successful.”

“It must help though, right?”

“I wouldn’t know.” Sophie looked at her with the candidness that had connected them in the first place. “You’re great, Julie. Kind and funny and pretty, even if you don’t wear makeup and refuse to dress with any sort of style. If this guy was attracted to you looking like that, he must like you. I doubt he’s going to care that you’re illiterate.”

She rolled her eyes. “Why do I let you come around again?”

“Because you love the attention.” Sophie slipped off the counter. “Seriously, you don’t need a college education to win the prince.”

“What do I need?” she asked doubtfully.

Sophie smirked like the femme fatale she was. “If I have to tell you that, maybe you
do
need to go back to school, to take an anatomy class.”

Chapter Fifteen

It was a mad house.

Scott strode down the hallway, narrowly evading a collision with one of the added staff his mother had hired until the wedding. He stifled his annoyance as he changed course and headed to his suite. It was his little sister’s wedding—he could be patient until it was over.

If he weren’t so frustrated by Julie, it might be easier.

His jaw clenched reflexively, and he rolled his shoulders to ease the tension.

Futile. The only thing that was going to make him happier was seeing Julie. Holding her would be even better. He hadn’t seen her since Saturday night, after Alexis’s bridal shower. Julie had claimed she was busy with her entry for the competition, but he knew better. She was avoiding him.

He stopped in the middle of the hallway and pulled out his phone to try calling her again. Apparently, he was a masochist.

She answered this time. “What is wrong with you?”

“The woman I’m in”—he caught himself before he said something that’d push her away more—”in
fatuated
with is avoiding me.”

“I’m busy,” she said indignantly.

“So am I, but I make time for you.”

She sighed. “I know,” she acquiesced softly. “I’m sorry I’m being bitchy.”

“You’re being difficult, not bitchy.”

“Thanks for clarifying,” she said dryly.

“I need you.” He had nothing to lose by being honest and everything to gain. “I’m surrounded by insanity, and it’s not helping matters that I miss you so much. If I could just kiss you, I’d be vastly improved.”

“I—”

“Here you are, Prescott.” His mother rounded the corner, a tall blonde in tow.

“Is that Elise?” Julie asked warily.

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Yes, but don’t—”

“I’ll talk to you later.”

“Ju—”

She hung up.

“Damn it.” His finger hovered over the screen, to call her back.

But his mother glided up to him. “What’s wrong, darling?”

Everything about this situation. He slipped the phone back into his pocket. “Nothing. I need to go for a run.”

“Oh.” Her lips pursed, an expression he recognized as disapproving. “I was hoping you’d be here to help Zoe.”

He glanced at the blonde. She didn’t look like she needed help with anything.

“Where are my manners?” his mom exclaimed in an overly bright voice. “Darling, this is Zoe Blanchard. Zoe, my son Prescott.”

He hated being called Prescott for more reasons than one. But he smiled pleasantly and shook the woman’s hand. “Pleased to meet you,” he lied.

To her credit, she looked amused rather than eager. “Likewise,” she said with an ironic tilt to her lips.

She rose a couple notches in his estimation. “You’re Alexis’s friend?”

“Zoe and Alexis used to go to school together,” his mother interjected.

“Play school,” Zoe clarified, managing to look serious. “When we were toddlers.”

His mom put her arm around the blonde. “Zoe’s parents are coming to the wedding, and when I found out Zoe was in town this week, I told her she just had to come over to be part of the festivities.”

He arched his brow at the woman. “How fortunate for you.”

She bit her lip, obviously trying not to laugh. “I was thinking that myself.”

“Zoe’s having lunch with us today. I thought afterward you could take her around to see the neighborhood,” Elise said not subtly at all. “She’s thinking of moving here from Boston.”

“It’s too bad you’re going for a run,” Zoe said with insincere remorse. “Maybe another time.”

He could have hugged her, he was so grateful for the out. “Sure. Mom has your number, right?”

“Of course I do, darling.” His mother frowned at him. “But I’m sure you can go out for a run anytime.”

At that moment, KT rounded the corner from the back of the house and stopped abruptly at the end of the hall. “Oh crap,” she said audibly.

Scott turned to his mom with a smile, improvising quickly. “I wish I could cancel my run, but I promised KT I’d go with her.”

“You did?” his friend asked warily.

“Yes,” he said firmly. “You want to get into shape, remember? You hate the little pooch to your belly.”

She put a hand on her flat stomach. “Um. Yeah. I’m a slob.”

He smiled at Zoe as he backed up. “It was nice meeting you. I’m sure we’ll run into each other.”

She nodded, smiling. “No doubt.”

“Prescott—”

“See you later, Mom,” he said over her, turning to stride toward his friend. KT gave him her patented stink-eye, but he ignored it and took her arm. He whispered to her, “You owe me for all the times I’ve hidden you from
your
mom.”

“Truth.” She sighed, trudging along next to him. “Do I really have to run though? I’m allergic to exercise.”

“How about a brisk walk around the block?”

She sighed. “Don’t say I never did anything for you.”

“Come to my room so I can change shoes.”

“Are you still using that line?” She asked, following him into his room and flopping on his bed. “It was old by the time you got to fourth grade.”

He pulled out his phone and tried calling Julie back, but her phone went directly to voicemail. “Damn it.”

“What’s got your Jockeys in bunch?” KT asked. She watched him, her head half dangling from the edge of the bed.

“My dating life is complicated.” He went into his walk-in closet, changed into workout clothes, and grabbed his tennis shoes.

“Aw man.” KT frowned at the shoes in his hand. “You were serious about the brisk walk, weren’t you?”

“I know you prefer climbing hedges, but this’ll good for you.” He raised his brow at her as he laced one. “Consider yourself lucky that I’m not insisting you run with me.”

She heaved a sigh. “Damn your complicated dating life.”

He grinned. “That’s the spirit.”

She got off the bed and stretched her back. “The chick downstairs isn’t the one you’re dating, is she?”

“Why?”

“Because I’ve always hated Barbie dolls. They’re creepy,” she explained as they headed outside. “If you hooked up with her permanently, I might be tempted to chop off her hair and twist a limb off.”

“Then it’s good for Zoe that I’m not interested in her. She seems like a nice person though.”

“Do you want ‘nice?’“

“No, I want Julie.”

Snorting, KT saluted her accomplice Celeste as she opened the kitchen door that led outside. “So Julie’s not nice, huh?” she asked when they were on the sidewalk.

“No. She’s a lot like you.” He grinned at the indignant look she shot him. “To tell you the truth, she is like you in that she’s a straight-shooter. She’s honest and tells it like it is, the way you do.”

“Then she must be a great catch.”

“Or supremely strange,” he said with a straight face.

“To
may
to, to
mah
to.” KT gestured with her hand. “So are you going to tell me what the problem is, or do I have to sit on you and drag it out?”

“She won’t go out with me publicly.”

“Finally!” She threw her arms in the air. “A woman of discerning taste. What did she say? She can’t be seen with such a preppy guy?”

“She’s a florist, and she’s entering some competition that my mother chairs, and she doesn’t want my association with her to color anyone’s opinion of her entry.” He frowned. “The thing is I can’t blame her. If I were in her shoes, I’d want to ensure the same thing. I
do
the same thing.”