On the very top of the stack, he noticed a small yellow memo note that had two words: Call Becky.

Damn it. That was the last person he wanted to deal with today. Why can’t it be Friday already? That way I could go up there in person. Instead, he had two more days to push through before he could take off.

Cole sat down and ran a frustrated hand back through his hair. He let out a deep breath, and for a moment, he forgot the reason for his good mood. Looking at the day planner on his desk, he figured if he got Jane to move a few of his meetings around, he could leave the city by three o’clock tomorrow afternoon.

“Jane!” he called.

Immediately, she popped her head in and looked him over, her smile turning to a frown. She made her way into the office and stopped in front of his desk. “You got the memo, I see.”

“Yes.” Cole sighed as he stood with his eyes still on his calendar. “Is there any way you can shuffle around tomorrow’s meetings? Maybe get Harrison in here at ten and Fogerty at noon. I’ll skip lunch and see Gallagher at one. I want to try to be out of here by three. Three thirty at the latest.”

“Yes, that shouldn’t be a problem.” Nodding, Jane scribbled down a few notes. “Do you still need that favor?”

Cole thought about it for a minute. Really, he should wait until next week, but he got the impression that if he did, he would somehow lose the upper hand in the scenario. And, this was a scenario he very much wanted to have his hands in.

“Yes.” Pulling a Post-it note from the stack on his desk, he wrote down two words of his own: Rachel Langley. “Her family owns and runs that restaurant Exquisite, downtown.”

“Oh yes, I’ve been there a few times with Gary. Isn’t that the one run by Mason Langley? He was in all the gossip magazines for a while.”

“Yes, that’s the one, he’s her brother. Well, she also runs a flower shop. I’d like the number to that shop.” Cole sat down again and leaned back in his chair.

Jane looked him over with a small smirk tugging at her lips.

“What?”

“Nothing, sir.”

Jane turned to walk out of the office, but Cole wasn’t letting her leave without knowing what that was all about.

“Jane?”

“Yes, Mr. Madison?”

“Jane Markham. I’m positive I have told you to call me Cole when you’re in here. Now, what was all of that?”

“All of what?”

Rocking back in his leather chair, Cole placed his elbows on the armrests and steepled his fingers. “That smirk.”

“There was no smirk, Mr. Madison.”

“Cole, Jane. And there was a smirk.” Sitting forward, he placed his arms on the desk, waiting patiently for her to answer.

“Oh, fine.” Jane told him slightly exasperated, and stepped back across the room to place her hands on the desk. “In the six years I have worked for you, not once have you asked me to get you a woman’s phone number.”

Cole looked up at his paralegal. He was about to deny that statement wholeheartedly, but he found he couldn’t bring himself to lie, so instead, he shut his mouth.

“Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me.” She smirked again.

“There is no secret, Jane. Maybe I just want to order some flowers.”

Straightening, Jane adjusted her glasses again and then wiped her hands down her prim skirt. “I’m sure that’s all there is to it, Mr. Madison.”

Arching his brow, he shook his head. “I think you are placating me, Jane.”

Jane spun on her heel and made her way to his door. She opened it and then turned back to him with a smile. “And I think you are omitting the truth, Mr. Madison.”

Chuckling, Cole conceded, “Perhaps, Jane, perhaps.”

“I’ll have the number for you as soon as I locate it,” she told him. “So you can order those flowers.” She gave him a huge I’m-on-to-you grin before she turned and closed the door behind her.

Damn perceptive woman. With a grin of his own, Cole opened the first envelope on his desk, conveniently pushing aside any thoughts of Becky.

* * *

“Mr. McClusky, how many times do I have to tell you? I don’t go out for coffee with customers,” Rachel said to the little old man standing on the opposite side of the cash register. “Even the charming ones.”

“One day, young lady, you will change your mind.”

Mr. McClusky had been stopping by every week since Rachel had reopened the store. One morning, he had come in and told her a wonderful story about how his wife loved fresh flowers in the house. So, every week, he would show up and buy her a bouquet of bright blooms. The man was full of interesting stories, and he was an incorrigible flirt. If Rachel had to guess, she’d place him mid seventies.

“And what would Mrs. McClusky have to say about that? Hmm?”

“Oh, don’t you worry about her, Rainbow. She doesn’t have to know you took an old man out for coffee.”

Laughing at the nickname he had given her, Rachel handed him the large bouquet. “But I would know, and I just wouldn’t feel right.”

“Well, at least tell an old man something fun. What color is next week?” he asked, gesturing to the blue tips that were curled over her shoulders this morning.

Rachel cocked her hip and placed a hand on it, pretending to think it over carefully. “You know what? I haven’t thought about it yet. Any suggestions?”

She had to hold back a full-on giggle as the old man in the green tweed coat looked her over very seriously.

“Red. I see you with red.”

Rachel thought about that for a moment as she walked around the counter toward the man she now absolutely adored.

“Red, huh? That’s bold.”

With a mischievous grin, he held out the crook of his arm to her. Rachel couldn’t help the wink she gave him as she slipped her arm through his. He patted her hand as they walked toward the front door.

“Don’t try and tell me you aren’t an outgoing young lady. I see that twinkle in your eye.”

“Oh, you do, do you?”

“Yes, missy, I do. My Clara has that twinkle, too.”

Stopping at the front door, Rachel reached out and twisted the handle. When she pulled it open, the bells chimed above. She leaned down and laid a gentle kiss on the man’s cheek. “Well, I will take that as a compliment. Your Clara is a very lucky lady.”

“So, red?” he suggested again as he let go of her arm. He made it down two steps and then turned back to look at her standing in the doorway.

Rachel nodded and waved. “Come back next week, and see for yourself.”

“I think you just asked me on a date.”

As he turned and pushed his free hand into his pocket, Rachel couldn’t help the warmth that spread in her chest. Incorrigible indeed.

Making her way back into the shop, she headed over to the counter where Tulip was lying beside her laptop. She now kept it handy for orders and to update the website she had designed for the store. This morning, she had placed an ad for some part-time help, providing her email address and the shop’s phone number for applicants.

Clicking open her inbox, she was happy to see she had received six emails since the ad had been posted two and a half hours ago. Good. Maybe I’ll find some half-decent help, she thought as she opened the first inquiry.

Bonnie Sampson. Work experience: McDonald’s and babysitting. Education: high school diploma, currently enrolled at Midwestern University. Looking for morning part-time position.

Okay, so that one could work, but I really needed an afternoon person, Rachel thought as she closed it and moved to the second email on the list.

Kate O’Neal. Work experience: O’Malley’s Pub. Education: high school diploma, currently attending the University of Chicago. Looking for a part-time job in the afternoons.

This one looks like a good possibility as well, she thought. So far, so good.

She wrote down two numbers on her notepad. Rachel clicked on the next message, and she was about to read it when the shop phone started to ring. Minimizing the screen, she answered the phone with the usual greeting.

“Precious Petals. This is Rachel. How can I help you?”

* * *

You can come to my office, and let me take off all your clothes, Cole thought as he stood. He stared out the large window in his office as Rachel’s smooth voice flowed through the phone.

When he didn’t say anything, she repeated, “Hello? Can I help you?”

“Hi. I’m here. I’m actually calling about the ad that’s posted online.”

“Oh yes, the part-time position.”

Cole imagined her smiling. It was an expression he had seen a couple of times although it had never been directed at him.

Not really believing his ridiculous behavior, Cole almost hung up until her voice came through the phone again.

“You’re the first guy to call about it actually. Huh, I didn’t expect that—a guy working in a flower shop.”

“Excuse me?” Cole questioned, not knowing if she expected an answer.

“Oh, nothing. I’m sorry. Of course, the job is open to both males and females. I’m in no way sexist.”

Biting back a laugh, Cole found himself enjoying her rambling for the moment. “Well, that’s good. I might have had to call a lawyer.”

“Ugh. Don’t do that. I can’t stand lawyers,” she admitted good-naturedly.

That interested Cole immensely. Turning his chair to face the window, he sat down and leaned back, crossing his ankle over his knee. “You don’t like lawyers? Why’s that? Bad experience?”

Rachel seemed to forget that he was a potential employee candidate as she began to talk his ear off. “Well, they always turn up at such horrible times, don’t they? Divorces, accidents, deaths.” Her voice faded out, but then she muttered, “Reading of wills.”