Wildest Dreams (Thunder Point #9)(59)



“Tell me about your shop,” she said.

And he did, from the day he bought it until the day he closed it. He talked about his biggest jobs, some of his regular customers, pictures of his work that had been published, whether purposely or because they happened to be in the photograph of a grand opening or wedding or other major event. When he’d been up and running for a couple of years his sister began to work for him. She was a wonderful organizer and helped him keep the shop clean. His customers loved her.

His sister had been the victim of a near-drowning accident when she was a young child, been without oxygen for too long and suffered serious brain damage. He was clearly devoted to her, if he was to be believed. Finding a good job in a flower shop didn’t materialize, but when he saw the ad for a manager, he thought he might be able to get back to flowers.

“I miss it,” he said. “I miss designing, unruffling the hysterical brides, placating the matrons whose parties I provided flowers for, the churches that came to me first, even the funerals that hoped for something special. I delivered and staged my own flowers...”

“So do I!” she said.

“I’m not letting anyone else set up my flowers, deliver my bouquets to events,” he returned enthusiastically. “Staging is half of it. A third, anyway.”

“Tell me something, Ronaldo—why don’t you move? Go to a bigger city? Portland would be good. San Francisco would be better. Somewhere a good florist can make real money.”

“There’s the magic word—money. Relocating like that can get expensive. But it’s emotional also. I’ve lived in Grants Pass my whole life and I’m not sure Melanie can cope with a move. Like it or not, even with a group home, I’m going to make sure Melanie has what she needs.”

“That’s a good brother,” she said.

“Have you lived in this little town a long time?” he asked.

“I came here to buy the store. I’d been looking for one. I worked in a shop in Portland, with good friends who trained me.” She rubbed her tummy. “Lifelong friends, really. I have to visit them before the baby comes.”

“And after. What brought you to the flower business, besides good friends?”

“A very difficult but in the end rewarding journey,” she said. And then she told him everything, beginning with once being a champion figure skater, an Olympian. He was thrilled by this; he loved to watch the skating. She explained about her exit from the stress, her flight to Thunder Point, falling in love with the hottest teacher at the high school, reconciliation with her mother who was here now. “A rich dowager who lives with us, or we with her, and this little shop is my haven. I love it. It means so much to me.”

She was completely oblivious to the time as they compared mothers, flower shops, friends, favorite work projects. And then the back door opened and Justin stepped inside. He grinned his lovely boyish grin. “You have my deliveries ready?” he asked.

“Justin!” She looked at her watch. “Oh, my God, I lost all track of time. Yes, yes—just about. There are five in the cooler and this one is nearly finished. I need five minutes.” She stood up. “Ronaldo, I enjoyed the conversation.”

“So did I,” he said. “If anything materializes for a florist...”

“Absolutely,” she said. Justin was taking the arrangements for delivery out the back door.

“There’s something I should probably explain...”

She laughed at him. “If either one of us explains any more, I’ll miss my deadline.”

“I’ll be quick. You should know, on the off chance your new hire doesn’t work out... That partner. It was not a woman.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Is that so?”

“If that’s a problem in a fishing village full of old-fashioned folks...”

“This is one of the nicest towns I’ve ever encountered,” she said. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s not in your best interest to hide your real self. Besides, it’s like dousing your natural flame.” She laughed. “No pun intended.”

He smirked and shook his head. “Too bad I screwed up the interview. I have a feeling we’d have fun working together. And that business about no babies in the workplace? I actually like babies. And they like me.”

“I have no doubt,” she said. She put out her hand. “Now go! I have things to do—I’ve played long enough!”

He picked up his cup and took it to the sink.

“No, no, leave that. I’ve got it. It was a pleasure. I’ll let you know how things work out.”

“I’d appreciate that.”

Grace hurried to finish her piece, got Justin on his way, then she put in a call to Virginia, her mother’s administrative assistant in San Francisco. Winnie was very wealthy and the challenge of hiring for her household staff had always been taken very seriously, given the value of her possessions, her estate, her person. Grace asked Virginia to run a check on Ronaldo Germain, a potential employee. And she asked her to rush it.

A couple of hours later her husband was at the shop, his workday at the high school done. “How’s my sexy little mama today?” he asked, wrapping his arms around her.

“I think I’ve found someone for the shop,” she said, beaming. “Provided he turns out not to be a felon.”

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