Нора Робертс - Bed of Roses

“If,” he agreed, then risked the pain for a more serious kiss. “Okay. I’ll see you later.”

She laughed, and made the dash inside.

At the end of the night, with her cooler filled with bouquets, centerpieces, and arrangements for the rest of the weekend—and the full knowledge she’d have to be up by six to complete more—Emma made it as far as the sofa before she dropped.

“You’re actually going to do all of this again tomorrow,” Jack said. “Twice.”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“And one more time on Sunday.”

“Uh-huh. I need to get in a solid two hours on Sunday’s, in the morning before dressing the first event. But the team can finish up the rest of Sunday’s while I’m dealing with Saturday’s. Both Saturday’s.”

“I’ve helped out a few times, but never actually . . . It’s every weekend?”

“It slows down some in the winter.” She snuggled in a little, toed off her shoes. “April through June are the prime months, with another big jump in September and October. But basically? Yes, every weekend.”

“I took a look at your cooler when you were working. You definitely need that second one.”

“I really do. When we started, none of us imagined we’d get this big. No, that’s wrong. Parker did.” It made her smile to think of it. “Parker always did. I just figured I’d be able to make a living wage doing what I liked.” Relaxing inch by inch, she curled aching toes. “I never thought we’d get to a point where we’re all juggling events and duties, clients, subs. It’s amazing.”

“You could use more help.”

“Probably. It’s the same for you, really, isn’t it?” When he lifted her feet onto his lap, rubbed those cramped toes and tired arches, her eyes drifted shut. “I remember when you started your firm. It was basically you. Now you have staff, associates. If you’re not working on drawings, you’re on-site or meeting with clients. When it’s your company, it’s a whole lot different from punching time.”

She opened her eyes again, met his gaze. “And every time you hire somebody—even when it’s the best thing, the right thing, to do for yourself and your business—it feels like giving just a little bit of it away.”

“I had myself talked in and talked out of hiring Chip a dozen times, just for that reason. The same with Janis, then Michelle. Now I’ve taken on a summer intern.”

“That’s great. God, doesn’t that make us the older generation? That’s hard to deal with.”

“He’s twenty-one. Just. I felt ancient when I interviewed him. What time do you have to start tomorrow?”

“Let me think . . . Six, I guess. Six thirty maybe.”

“I should let you get some sleep.” In an absent gesture, he ran a hand up and down her calf. “You’re pretty tied up for the weekend. If you’re up for it, we could go out Monday.”

“Out? Like out there?” She waved a hand in the air. “Where there are places where people bring you food, and possibly entertainment?”

He smiled. “Dinner and a movie sound good?”

“Dinner and a movie? It sounds like whole buckets of good.”

“Then I’ll grab a bucket and pick you up Monday, about six thirty?”

“It works for me. Really works. I have a question.” She stretched luxuriously as she sat up. “You stuck around here until after midnight, and now you’re going to go home so I can get some sleep?”

“You put in a long one.” He gave her calf a quick squeeze. “You must be tired.”

“Not that tired,” she said, and, grabbing a fistful of his shirt, pulled him down with her.

Monday evening, laurel walked her consult clients to the door. September’s bride and groom took away a container holding a variety of cake samples. But she knew they’d decided on the Italian cream cake. Just as she knew the bride was leaning toward her Royal Fantasy design, and the groom her Mosaic Splendor.

The bride would win, she had no doubt, but it was nice to have a man take a genuine interest in the details.

Plus she’d talk the bride into having a groom’s cake in a mosaic design that complemented the wedding cake.

Everybody wins, she thought.

“Just let me know when you make up your minds, and don’t worry about changing those minds. There’s plenty of time.” She kept the easy smile on her face, the breezy manner intact even when she saw Del coming up the walk.

He projected successful lawyer, she thought, in his perfectly cut suit, his perfect briefcase, his handsome shoes.

“Parker’s in her office,” she told him. “I think she’s clear.”

“Okay.” He came in, shut the door. “Hey,” he said when she started up the stairs. “Are you not speaking to me?”

She flicked a glance back at him. “I just did.”

“Barely. I’m the one who should be pissed off here. You don’t have anything to be snotty about.”

“I’m being snotty?” She paused, waited for him to join her on the stairs.

“I don’t expect my friends and family to lie to me, or lie by omission. And when they do—”

She poked a finger, hard, into his shoulder, then held it up. “Number one, I didn’t know you didn’t know. Neither did Parker or Mac or Carter. Or Emma, for that matter. So that’s between you and Jack. Second,” she continued, poking him again when he started to speak. “I agree with you.”

“If you’d take a minute to . . . You agree with me?”

“Yes, I do. And in your place I’d have been hurt and pissed off. Jack should have told you he and Emma were involved.”

“Well, okay. Thanks—or sorry. Whichever you prefer.”

“However.”

“Shit.”

“However,” she repeated. “You might want to ask yourself why your best friend didn’t tell you. And you might want to look back at the way you handled the other night, how you came across as a tight-ass having a sulk.”

“Wait a damn minute.”

“That’s the way I see it, just as I see—even if I don’t agree—why Jack didn’t tell you. You’d have gone all Delaney Brown on him.”

“Just what does that mean?”

“If you don’t know, telling you won’t make any difference.”

He grabbed her hand to stop her as she moved on. “That’s such a cop-out.”

“Fine. Delaney Brown disapproves. Delaney Brown knows best. Delaney Brown will manipulate and maneuver until he positions you where he wants—for your own good.”

“That’s cold, Laurel.”

She sighed, softened. “No, it’s not. Not really. Because you really do have the best interest of your friends and family at heart. You’re just always so damn sure, Del, that you know what that is.”

“Are you going to stand there and tell me you think what’s going on with Emma and Jack is the best thing, for either of them?”

“I don’t know.” She lifted her hands, palms up. “I don’t pretend to know. All I know is that, for the moment, they’re enjoying each other.”

“It doesn’t even weird you out? It doesn’t make you feel as if you’ve stepped into an alternate reality?”

She had to laugh. “Not exactly. It’s a little—”

“It’s like—what if I suddenly put moves on you? I just decide, hey, I’d like to have sex with Laurel.”

The soft hardened; the laughter died. “You’re such an idiot.”

“What?

What?” he demanded as she stormed away up the stairs. “It is an alternate reality,” he muttered, and climbed the rest of the way to his sister’s office.

She sat at her desk, where he’d expected to find her, talking on her headset as she worked at the computer. “That’s just exactly right. I knew I could count on you. They’ll need two hundred and fifty. You can deliver them to me, here, and I’ll take it from there. Thank you, so much. You, too. Bye.”

She pulled off the headset. “I just ordered two hundred and fifty rubber duckies.”

“Because?”

“The client wants them swimming in the pool on her wedding day.” She sat back, sipped from her bottle of water, and gave him a long, sympathetic look. “How are you doing?”

“I’ve been better, I’ve been worse. Laurel just agreed Jack was an asshole for not telling me, but apparently that’s my fault because I’m Delaney Brown. Do I manipulate people?”

She studied him carefully. “Is that a trick question?”

“Damn it.” He dumped his briefcase on the desk then walked to her coffee setup.

“Okay, serious question. Yes, of course you do. So do I. We’re problem solvers, and good at finding solutions and answers. When we do, we do what we can to move people toward those solutions and answers.”

He turned back to her, scanning her face. “Do I manipulate you, Parks?”

“Del, if you hadn’t manipulated me, to some extent, regarding the estate, how you intended to set it up after Mom and Dad died, I wouldn’t have just ordered two hundred and fifty rubber duckies. I wouldn’t have the business. None of us would.”

“That’s not the kind of thing I mean.”

“Would you, have you ever pushed me into doing something I didn’t want to do—genuinely didn’t want—and did you push because it was what you wanted? No. I’m sorry you found out about Jack and Emma the way you did. But I think the situation’s a little strange for all of us. None of us saw it coming. I don’t think Jack and Emma saw it coming.”

“I can’t get used to it.” He sat, sipped his coffee. “By the time I do, it’ll probably be over anyway.”

“Aren’t you the romantic?”

He shrugged. “Jack’s never been serious about a woman. He’s not a dog—exactly—but he’s not the long haul guy either. He wouldn’t hurt her on purpose. He’s not made like that. But . . .”

“Maybe you should have a little more faith in your two friends.” She sat back, swiveling side-to-side in the chair. “I think things happen between people for a reason. Otherwise I couldn’t do what I do every day. Sometimes it works out, sometimes it doesn’t, but there’s always a reason.”