Send Me No Flowers (9 page)

She’d probably stay out here until she got frostbite.

He’d already seen the protesters scare off at least four potential customers from Bert’s shop. Inside, all the tables were empty, the display counter still filled with pastry. A tempting curl of steam floated up from the cappuccino machine.

Time to make his move.

He broke through the circle of picketers, ignoring their gasps of dismay and outrage. He gave them a jaunty salute as he reached the door of the shop, anxious to cozy up to a pecan roll and a hot cup of cappuccino.

“Scab!” shouted a voice behind him. It sounded suspiciously like his date.

He ignored her, opening the door of the shop. A rush of warm air enveloped him, along with the mouthwatering aromas of freshly ground coffee and just-baked bread. He stamped his snowy shoes on the rubber floor mat and rubbed his cold hands together.

“Mayor Lavery, thank goodness you’re here,” Bert said, hurrying toward the door, his florid cheeks and green apron both dusted with white flour. “Them lunatics is out to ruin my business. This place is usually bustin’ full on Saturday night. Especially in the winter.” He suddenly pointed at the frosty window-pane. “There! That’s her. See that tall woman in the blue hat? She’s the ringleader of this bunch of renegades.”

Rachel waved to him as she passed the window.

Bert turned to Drew. “Do you know that nut?”

Drew cleared his throat. “She’s my date.”

“Your date! You’re dating the leader of this Valentine boycott? Is that what you call supporting the businesses in this town? I thought we made it clear that we expect you to put a stop to all this nonsense, Mayor. The future of Love may depend on it.”

Not to mention Drew’s political future. He’d been toying with the idea of running for state attorney general after his term as mayor was over. The incumbent had already announced that he planned to retire before the next election, leaving the race wide-open. But if Drew let this boycott succeed under his watch, he’d be laughed right out of the race.

“I’m working on it,” Drew said. “Dr. Rachel Grant is one stubborn woman, so it may take some time. Maybe you could take steps to defuse the situation if you made your honeybun special available to everyone.”

The baker set his jaw. “I already gotta sign all made up advertising that special for couples only, and I’m not gonna change it now. Especially for a bunch a namby-pamby crybabies. Besides, I already thought of a way to
defuse
the situation.”

Bert’s scowl suddenly turned to a grin as he continued to stare out the window. “Now we’ll see ’em scatter.”

Drew turned to the window in time to see the protesters link arms together, forming a human chain. Rachel, the ring leader, was now shouting a new chant:
“Hell no, we won’t go!”

The police had arrived.

“I think the police officers heard you loud and clear. That’s why they threatened to charge you with resisting arrest.”

“Well, you certainly weren’t much help. You are the mayor. Couldn’t you have called off your goons?”

“The police aren’t my goons. And even if I wanted to, I don’t have that kind of authority. At least you got off with just a small fine.”

“Small?” she exclaimed. “They set it at one hundred dollars!”

“Think how many honeybuns you could have bought with that money.”

“I’m not buying honeybuns or anything else at Bert’s Bakery until he starts treating all his customers fairly. I’d do it all over again, too, even if did cost me one hundred dollars.”

“I think you mean it cost
me
one hundred dollars,” Drew said. “You forgot your checkbook, remember?”

Rachel pressed her lips together. She never forgot her checkbook when she went out. Until tonight. She blamed Gina and Pam. Distracting her with all that talk about dating the sexiest man in town and asking her about that kiss. Her lips tingled just thinking about it. Would he kiss her good-night? Did she want him to? Rachel mentally shook herself. This date with Drew wasn’t going exactly as planned. She’d wanted to prove to him that she had no intention of backing off this boycott. Instead she owed him a hundred dollars and a debt of gratitude for driving her car to the police station to pick her up. She didn’t like being in debt to him, even for one night.

“Don’t worry, Drew, I intend to pay up,” she said, turning onto her street. “We’ll make a quick stop at my place so I can write you a check.” She pulled into her designated parking spot and shifted the car into Park, the engine still running. “I’ll only be a minute.”

“Aren’t you going to invite me up for a nightcap?” he asked, his deep voice curling around her in the darkness.

Something inside her quavered at the thought of inviting Drew up to her apartment. She wasn’t afraid of him; just a little afraid of herself. What if he kissed her again? Then she came to her senses. He hadn’t mentioned their kiss once all evening or made even one move on her. He plainly wasn’t interested. Somehow, that wasn’t making her feel any better.

“All I’ve got is grape juice,” she said, hoping he’d change his mind and stay in the car.

Instead he popped open his door. “Sounds great.”

She stifled a groan as she cut the engine and got out of the car. He probably just wanted another chance to do his cheerleader routine for Valentine’s Day.

“Nice place,” Drew said, after she’d unlocked the front door and led him into her apartment. To her surprise, the place looked a lot neater than how she’d left it. Gina and Pam must have straightened things up. They’d also left soft, romantic music playing on the stereo, the alluring scent of incense in the air and a bottle of wine with two crystal goblets on the coffee table.

So much for subtlety.

Why not include a silk negligee and a box of condoms while they were at it?

“Now this is my favorite kind of grape juice,” Drew said with a smile, picking up the wine bottle to look at the label. “Do you mind if I open it?”

“I guess not,” she muttered, sincerely hoping he didn’t think she’d planned all this since it screamed seduction scene. “Help yourself while I go get that check.”

She escaped into her bedroom, shutting the door behind her so she could regain her composure without the sensual distractions of music and incense and Drew.

She found her checkbook on the bedstand, next to the telephone. She stared at the phone for a long moment, willing it to ring. If she was lucky, one of her patients would call in the midst of a panic attack and she’d have to leave for an emergency session. She felt a little panicked herself, her heart beating a rapid tattoo in her chest as she wrote out the check to Drew.

When she walked back into the living room, she saw Drew seated on her sofa, reading one of her dog pamphlets.

“Sorry it took so long.” She handed him the check, then picked up her glass of wine off the coffee table.

“What’s with all the dog literature?” he asked, nodding toward the stack of pamphlets on the end table. “Don’t tell me you’re actually thinking about getting one.”

“I’m not thinking about it, I’m doing it. As soon as I decide which kind of dog would be the best for me.”

“I can already tell you. A
stuffed
dog. You can find one at any toy store.”

She sat down on the recliner, sipping her wine while she wondered how any man could have eyes so blue. “I want a real dog. A pet of my own. I’d think you’d understand that since you have a cat.”

“The cat came with the house. Besides, cats and dogs are nothing alike. Cats are independent and don’t demand a lot of attention. You hardly even know they’re around. They wash themselves, use a litter box and generally ignore you. Dogs are a whole other story.”

“Dogs are cute and cuddly and loyal. I’ve wanted one ever since I graduated from college, but this is the first time the management has allowed them in my apartment building.” She drained her glass, already feeling a nice little buzz from the wine. “I can’t believe you don’t like dogs.”

“I love dogs,” he countered, getting up to pour her another glass, then topping off his own before he sat down again. “That’s why I’d never want to see one cooped up in a tiny apartment.”

“It’s not tiny. Besides, I’m planning to get a dog in proportion to my home.”

“I don’t think they make dogs that small.”

Rachel shook her head. “And I think you’re just determined to disagree with anything I say.”

He grinned. “You may be right. I used to be on the debate team in high school. I guess old habits die hard.”

His grin caught her off guard and she found herself smiling back at him. “Maybe that’s it. I was captain of the debate team at Michigan State.”

He laughed. “No wonder the sparks are flying between us.” His laughter faded as his gaze caught and held hers, his words taking on a whole new meaning.

A fissure of panic rippled through her at the intensity of her own longing. “I’ve never had a date quite like this one before.”

“Me, neither.”

She arched a brow. “You mean you’re not in the habit of bailing your dates out of jail?”

“I’ll admit that was a first. Usually I expect dinner or a movie for a first date. This was a whole new experience for me.”

“At least you can say I’m not predictable.”

“That’s an understatement.” He smiled. “At least this time I didn’t end up in the hospital.”

“Yet,” she replied, amazed to find herself teasing him. Her panic was fading a little. Drew wasn’t so unsettling after all. He laughed easily and was very easy to look at. In fact, she could look at him all night long. She lounged back in the chair. “So tell me something about yourself. Something I don’t know.”

“Like what?”

She thought for a moment. “Tell me your most embarrassing moment.” It was one of the icebreakers she used regularly in her group sessions. It seemed to make people more at ease with each other. “If you have one.”

“Are you kidding? It’s picking just one that’s the hard part. There’s the time you thought I was impotent... and the time you knocked me out with a snowball. They both almost qualify as my most embarrassing moment.”

“Almost? That sounds intriguing.” She took a sip of her wine. “I can’t wait to hear it.”

He narrowed his eyes. “This is strictly confidential, right?”

“Right,” she promised, running one finger around the rim of her glass. “Now I’m really intrigued.”

He took a deep breath. “Okay. When I was in high school,” he began, “I was madly in love with a cheerleader named Wendy. Only she didn’t know it.” He grinned at the memory. “She was every teenage boy’s dream girl. Blond, beautiful and built.”

“A playboy centerfold come to life?”

“Exactly.”

Rachel rolled her eyes. “Why are dream girls always the cheerleaders? Why aren’t they in the Latin Club or the Math Club?”

“Wendy was in the Math Club. She had brains and beauty. A lethal combination.” His gaze rested on Rachel for a moment. “Especially for a shy sixteen-year-old boy with raging hormones.”

“You, shy?” she said in disbelief. “I figured you were captain of the football team and president of the senior class.”

He rolled his wineglass between his big, capable hands. “Nope. I was only a sophomore at the time, and skinnier than a beanpole.”

Rachel’s gaze flickered over his broad shoulders and athletic body, trying to picture him as anything other than strapping and gorgeous.

“But I finally worked up my nerve to ask her out on a date.”

“She probably had a secret crush on you,” Rachel ventured, putting herself in Wendy’s shoes.

“If you keep interrupting, I’m not going to finish the story.”

“I won’t say another word,” she promised, tucking her legs under her as she curled up in the chair.

“I had it all planned,” he said, leaning forward on the sofa, his elbows resting on his knees. “Wendy and I were in the same gym class together. I was going to approach her after calisthenics and ask her to go to the movies with me.
Raiders of the Lost Ark
was playing and all the kids wanted to see it. It was going to be the perfect date.”

Rachel found herself holding her breath, pulling for the gawky teenager in love with the unattainable cheerleader. Somehow she knew this story didn’t have a happy ending.

“I rehearsed the words in the boys’ locker room, while we all changed into our gym uniforms,” he continued. “I knew exactly what I was going to say to her, but I was really nervous. My palms were sweating, my heart racing, my mouth dry. But I knew I couldn’t back down, because all the guys wanted Wendy. I had to ask her for a date before someone else beat me to it.”

Rachel smiled, all too aware of Drew’s competitive nature. Poor Wendy probably never stood a chance.

“Only I forgot something.”

“What?” she asked, too caught up in his story to remember her promise.

“My gym shorts,” he muttered, a deep blush creeping into his clean-shaven cheeks. “I walked out of the locker room and into the middle of the gym wearing just my underwear and a T-shirt. A short T-shirt.”