Chesapeake Blue
Page 64

"I always wanted brothers."
"What for?" Jake asked her. "They mostly just pound on you."
"Well, you do look pretty well battered," she considered. "I always thought it would be fun to have someone to talk to—and to pound on. Someone to take some of the heat when my parents were annoyed or irritated. When you're an only child, there's no one to diffuse the focus, if you know what I mean. And no one to eat the asparagus when you don't want it."
"Yeah, but Kev swiped half the good Halloween candy last year."
"Jeez, get over it."
Jake eyed his brother. "I never forget. All data is stored in my memory banks. And one day, candy pig, you will pay."
"You're such a geek."
"Thesbo."
"That's Jake's latest insult." Seth gestured with his wineglass. "A play on thespian, since Kev's into that."
"Rhymes with lesbo," Jake explained helpfully while Anna stifled a groan. "It's a slick way of calling him a girl."
"Clever. I enjoyed your school play last month," she said to Kevin. "I thought it was wonderfully done. Are you thinking of going on to study theater in college?"
"Yeah. I really like it. Plays are cool, but I like movies even better. The guys and I have made some really awesome videos. The last one we did, Slashed, was the best. It's about this one-armed psycho killer who stalks these hunters through the woods. Carves them up, one by one, in revenge because one of them shot off his arm in this freak hunting accident. It has flashbacks and everything. Want to see it?"
"Sure."
"I didn't know you went to Kevin's play."
Dru shifted her attention to Seth. "I like to keep up with community events. And I love little theater."
"We could've gone together."
She picked up her wine, smiled at him over it in a way that made Anna's heart swell. "Like a date?"
"Dru has a philosophical objection to dating," Seth said, with his eyes on hers. "Why is that?"
"Because it often involves men who don't interest me. But primarily I haven't had time for that sort of socializing since I moved here. Starting up, then running the shop have been priorities."
"What made you decide to be a florist?" Anna asked her.
"I had to ask myself what I could do—then out of that, what I'd enjoy the most. I enjoyed flowers. I took some courses, and discovered I had a talent with them."
"It takes a lot of courage to start a business, and to come to a new place to do it."
"I'd have withered if I'd stayed in Washington. That sounds dramatic. I needed a new place. My own place. Everything I considered doing, everywhere I considered going, kept circling back around to Saint Christopher and a flower shop. A flower shop puts you right in the deep end of the pool."
"How is that?" Cam wondered.
"You become instantly intimate with the community. When you sell flowers, you know who's having a birthday, an anniversary. You know who's died, who's had a baby. Who's in love, or making up from a fight, who got a promotion, who's ill. And in a small town, like this one, you invariably get details along with it."
She thought for a moment, then spoke in a lazy Shore accent. "Old Mrs. Wilcox died—would've been eighty-nine come September. Came home from the market and had a stroke right there in the kitchen while she was putting away her canned goods. Too bad she didn't make things up with her sister before it was too late. They haven't spoke word one to each other in twelve years."
"That's good." Amused, Cam propped his chin on his hand. More than looks and brains, he thought. There was warmth and humor in there, too. Once you tickled it out of her.
Seth was toast.
"And I thought it was just pushing posies," he added.
"Oh, it's a great deal more than that. When a man comes in, frantic because he just remembered his wedding anniversary, it's my job not to simply put the right flowers into his hands, but to remain discreet."
"Like a priest," Cam put in and made her laugh.
"Not so far from that. You'd be amazed at the confessions I hear. It's all in a day's work."
"You love it," Anna murmured.
"I do. I really do. I love the business itself, and I love being part of something. In Washington…" She caught herself, a bit amazed at how easily she'd rambled. "Things were different," she said at length. "This is what I was looking for."
HE FOLLOWED her home, where they sat on her porch steps in the warm summer night, watching fireflies dance in the dark.
"You had a good time?"
"I had a wonderful time. The dinner, getting to know your family a little better. The sail."
"Good." He brought her hand to his lips. "Because Anna's going to pass the word, and you'll be expected to repeat the performance at Grace's, and at Sybill's."
"Oh." She hadn't thought of that. "I'll need to reciprocate. I'll need to have everyone over for…" She'd have to have it catered, of course. And she'd have to determine how best to keep a number of teenagers entertained.
"I'm out of my league," she admitted. "The kind of dinner party I'm used to hosting isn't what's called for here."
"You want to have everyone over?" The idea delighted him. "We'll get a grill and cook out. We'll toss on some steaks and corn on the cob. Keep it simple."
We, she thought. Somehow they'd slid from individuals into we. She wasn't quite sure how she felt about it.
"I've been meaning to ask you something." He leaned back on the step so he could study her profile.
"What's it like to grow up filthy rich?"
That eyebrow winged, the way he loved. "We preferred the term 'lavishly wealthy' to 'filthy rich.' And obviously, it has its points."
"I bet. We sort of established why the lavishly wealthy society chick is running a flower shop on the waterfront, but how come she doesn't have household help, or a staff of employees?"
"I have Mr. G, who's worked out perfectly. He's flexible, dependable, and he knows and loves flowers. And I plan on hiring someone else, to work part-time in the shop. I needed to make certain there'd be enough business to justify it first. I'm going to start looking very soon."