Send Me No Flowers (15 page)

“Because pizza is convenient and goes so well with beer.” Drew picked up his bagel. “Mom left me all her best recipes, and she’s a great cook. All I’ve got to do is follow directions. How hard can that be?”

Now if only the rest of the recipes had been so easy to follow. He lifted the lid of the clam sauce, frowning down at the lumpy contents. Maybe it needed more heat. He turned the burner up to high, then checked the linguine. It was boiling nicely. He’d just leave it there so it would stay nice and hot until it was time to serve it.

He wanted everything to be perfect for Rachel.

He pulled the zucchini casserole out of the refrigerator, glad he’d talked his mother into making it for him. He could hardly spell zucchini, much less figure out how to cook it. But it looked delicious through the plastic wrap covering the baking dish. He’d pop it into the oven as soon as the garlic bread was ready.

That left the cheese ball and dessert to prepare. He pulled the cream cheese out of the freezer, then hurried over to the stove to check on the seven-minute frosting. It had been cooking fifteen minutes and still didn’t look done. He gave it a quick stir with a rubber spatula just as the doorbell rang. A ripple of panic washed over him. She was early.

“Russell,” he shouted. “Get the door.”

No sound from upstairs. Russell was obviously still up there trying to figure out how to tape “The Bugs From Brazil” on the VCR. A woman like Rachel at the door and all this guy wanted was to watch foreign bugs crawl across the screen.

The doorbell rang a second time, and Drew quickly wiped his hands on a dish towel before heading for the living room. He yelled for Russell once more, then pulled open the front door.

“Hello, Drew.” Rachel smiled at him as she stepped into the foyer. She took off her leather coat, draping it over her arm.

Her short, sapphire blue dress clung to her body in all the right places, revealing just enough skin to tempt him into wanting to see more. Her blond hair was swept up loosely in the back, sexy tendrils escaping to frame her face. She wore strapless high heels that accentuated her long, slender legs. Legs that made his mouth go dry.

She was gorgeous. Too gorgeous for Russell. Drew barely resisted the urge to slam the door in her face and call off the dinner. Russell didn’t deserve a woman like her, especially when Drew wanted her all for himself.

“I hope I’m not too early.”

“You’re right on time,” he muttered, realizing he was too late. Too late to correct the biggest mistake he’d ever made in his life.

RACHEL STOOD IN THE FOYER, a sense of déjà vu washing over her. She’d been here four days ago, nervously hoping she had the wrong house so she wouldn’t have to go through with their date. A date that had climaxed with that bone-melting kiss.

Now she was back, but under completely different circumstances. This time she really wanted to be here. She shifted in her high heels, unnerved by the way Drew was staring at her. She couldn’t help staring, either. Her date for the evening was dressed in blue jeans and a long-sleeved chambray shirt, with a frilly white apron tied around his waist. He held a rubber spatula in one hand and clearly didn’t realize he had frosting smeared on his face.

On impulse, she reached out and wiped the small smudge off his cheek with one finger, then brought it to her mouth. “Mmmm...delicious.”

His gaze followed her finger. He swallowed hard as she sucked the frosting into her mouth. “You have to leave,” he said roughly.

“What?”

“You have to leave...your coat here,” he muttered, grabbing her coat and turning around to hang it on the hall tree.

Before she could question his odd behavior, she heard someone on the stairway.

“Hey, Drew,” Russell called, rambling down the stairs, “I borrowed your gold cuff links, too. These sleeves are a little long.”

Rachel blinked in surprise at her ex-fiancé. She’d never seen him look so...formal. He wore a gray pin-striped suit that looked identical to the one Drew had worn on the television show. The jacket hung loosely on Russell’s shoulders, but went well with the red silk tie and the white oxford shirt. The pants dragged a little on the floor, but not enough to cover the sight of the shoes slipping on his heels.

Despite his baggy clothes, he looked remarkably handsome. He’d shaved, revealing that deep cleft in his chin she’d always loved. He’d also gotten his hair trimmed.

Russell, her one-time Prince Charming, looked like Cinderella on the way to the ball. And Drew, with his apron and rubber spatula wand, was apparently the fairy godmother.

“Hey, Rach,” Russell said when he saw her. “You look good enough to eat.”

Drew scowled at Russell as he wiped his hands on his apron. “Can you wait until dinner? It’s almost ready.”

“Sure thing” Russell said, sliding his arm around Rachel’s waist “Isn’t he a great guy, getting the two of us together like this?”

“The two of us?” Rachel echoed, wondering if Russell had the wrong impression. “Drew invited me here for dinner.”

“Right,” Russell replied with a nod. “He told me about it this morning. He knows my budget is pretty tight, so I can’t afford to take you out anywhere. He even offered to cook us dinner.”

Rachel closed her eyes, feeling like the biggest fool in Love. Drew didn’t want her, he just wanted to play matchmaker. But that didn’t make any sense. She opened her eyes and looked at Drew, feeling slightly dizzy. “You’re cooking dinner for...me and Russell?”

“Most of the great chefs of the world are men,” he said, waving his spatula in the air, “so I think I can handle one dinner. After all, I do have a college degree.”

She didn’t need a college degree to smell something burning. Maybe the concussion had affected his sense of smell. A smoke alarm went off somewhere, the shrill warning signal echoing throughout the big house.

Drew’s eyes widened in horror. “My garlic bread!” He raced for the kitchen, his apron strings flying.

Russell smiled down at her, grasping her hands in his. They felt warm and callused. The hands of a man who had handled hundreds of insects. “I’m so glad you’re here, Rach,” he said, over the piercing wail of the smoke alarm. “It’ll be just like old times.”

Great. She’d wanted this dinner to spark a new start with Drew and instead she got stuck with leftovers. How could she tell Russell she hadn’t come here to rekindle their romance? Especially when he looked so hopeful, so handsome and so happy to see her?

When he’d first shown up on her doorstep last Saturday night, she’d been too shocked to know her true feeling. Then she’d had that Twinkie relapse. She still liked Russell and admired his dedication to his profession. And she still felt that flicker of physical attraction. But after one date with Drew, and that sizzling kiss, she knew a mere flicker wasn’t enough for her anymore. Russell Baker had been her first love, but that love simply hadn’t lasted. At least not for her. Part of her was even grateful that he’d taken off last February, before they’d both made a dreadful mistake.

She looked up into his eyes, not wanting to hurt him despite the way he’d abandoned her. But the words stuck in her throat. Maybe she’d wait until after dinner. Men always seemed to take bad news better on a full stomach.

He led her into the dining room and pulled out her chair. The table looked nice, even with the paper plates.

“I’d like to propose a toast,” Russell said, pouring them both a glass of red wine. “To the
Rachelona cyanella,
the most beautiful beetle on earth, named for the most beautiful woman on earth.”

She took a sip of wine, dismally seeing her future stretched out before her. Instead of having children, she’d be godmother to a beetle. Somehow, that wasn’t enough.

Drew walked into the dining room just as the smoke alarm shut off. He placed a platter on the table. “Here are the appetizers.”

Russell frowned down at the platter. “I thought you were making a cheese ball?”

“Change of plans,” Drew snapped. “The cream cheese sort of...exploded when I tried to thaw it in the microwave. I guess I should have taken off that foil wrapper. But I’m sure you’ll enjoy these even more.” Then he headed back into the kitchen.

Rachel looked down at the bite-size, piping hot hors d’oeuvres in front of her. “What are they?”

Russell sighed. “Looks like he went with the frozen pizza again. He must have used cookie cutters to cut them into these little shapes.” He picked a starshaped appetizer and popped it into his mouth. “Yep, Papa Pepe’s Pepperoni Pizza. I’d recognize that cardboard crust anywhere.”

Rachel chose a pizza triangle, nipping off a little corner. “Why is Drew doing all this?”

Russell shrugged. “I guess he’s just a genuinely nice guy. He seems really anxious to see us get back together.”

Rachel tried to ignore the twinge of disappointment deep inside her. How could he want that after their date? After that kiss? She gnawed at her pizza, worrying that she’d scared him off. Maybe he knew she was attracted to him. Maybe he wanted to distract her with Russell. Only she didn’t want Russell. She wanted... well it didn’t matter what she wanted anymore. It had all been a silly fantasy anyway. She put down the uneaten portion of her pizza appetizer as Drew walked back into the dining room.

“I’ve got some good news and some bad news,” he announced, looking a little haggard. “The good news is I managed to save the garlic bread.”

“And the bad news?” Russell asked.

“The plastic wrap melted all over the zucchini casserole and the clam sauce is stuck to the bottom of the saucepan. Since I’m going to need a chisel to get it out, I improvised again.” He placed a bowl of lumpy red sauce on the table. “I’ll be right back with the linguine.”

Russell stared down at the bowl after Drew left. “What is it?”

Rachel looked from the sauce to the appetizers and back again. “It looks like he scraped the topping off of Papa Pepe’s Pepperoni Pizza and added some water.”

“I should have gone with the hot dogs,” Russell said under his breath. Then he smiled at Rachel. “But just being here with you makes it all worth it. I’ve really missed you this last year, Lovebug.”

Rachel took another sip of her wine, trying to wash down the aftertaste of the appetizers. Maybe she should tell him it was over now. If she was lucky, he’d kick her out of the house and she wouldn’t have to eat any more of Drew’s cooking. “Listen, Russell...”

Drew came into the dining room, carrying a bowl of linguine and a basketful of garlic bread. “Hope you’re hungry. I scraped all the black stuff off the top of the bread, so it should taste fine.” He picked up a few strands of linguini with the tongs. The entire mass came out of the bowl in one solid lump.

Rachel bit back a smile at the bewildered expression on his face.

“Guess it got a little sticky,” he said, trying to separate the strands with a fork. Finally he took a knife, cutting the lump of linguini down the middle. He placed half of it on Rachel’s plate and gave Russell the rest of it.

She stared down at the clump of noodles on her plate, wondering how she’d ever gotten into this mess. She’d spent two hundred dollars on a new dress just to choke down a plateful of overcooked linguine.

“Maybe if you put on some of the sauce, it will loosen up the noodles,” Drew suggested.

She couldn’t face another bite of Pape Pepe’s Pepperoni Pizza. “Actually I like mine plain,” she said, bravely sawing off a chunk. She chewed the dry, sticky noodles. And chewed. And chewed some more.

If Drew would stop staring at her, waiting for her reaction, she could discreetly spit it into her napkin. Instead she had to swallow and make a grab for her wineglass.

“Well?” he asked, his handsome face full of expectation.

The lump of linguine lodged in her throat. She swallowed hard, forcing it down. “I’ve never had anything like it.”

He smiled. “Great. I’ve got more in the kitchen.”

She shook her head, pushing her plate away. “I want to save room for dessert.”

“My dessert!” he exclaimed, making a mad dash for the kitchen as the smoke alarm sounded again.

“Hey, this stuff isn’t so bad with the pizza sauce,” Russell said, sawing his way through the linguine. “Although the rest of this meal is a disaster.”

The perfect opening. “Maybe it’s a sign. I don’t think we’re meant to be together, Russell.”

“But I love you.”

She licked her dry lips. “The problem is I don’t love you. Not anymore.”

He forked up a clump of linguine. “You’re just still angry about my trip to Africa. I realize you need some time, Lovebug. And I’m willing to give you all the time you want.”

He looked incredibly cheerful for a man facing rejection. Or rather, ignoring her rejection. She wanted to make it clear, so they could both move on with their lives. “Russell, I don’t want to hurt you.”