Flowers on Main

by Sherryl Woods

  As always, he somehow managed to look thoroughly in command of the situation as he walked up to their table, dragged a chair over and sat down without waiting for an invitation. Across from her, Jake tensed. Bree couldn’t think of a thing to do except introduce them for the second time in her life and pray that the awkward moment didn’t last.

  “Jake Collins, Marty Demming. You met before, of course, when Marty and I worked together in Chicago.”

  A lift of Marty’s brow spoke volumes. Jake saw it and his fist clenched.

  “It was a bit more than that, if we’re going to be totally honest,” Marty said, deliberately ignoring the tension. Though his tone was jovial, there was no mistaking his attempt to claim possession.

  “Why are you here?” Bree demanded, losing patience and unwilling to be polite a second longer. If he was here to ruin her life for a second time, she didn’t intend to give him the chance.

  “The theater wants to produce your last play, the one you finished writing just before you left,” he said, catching her by surprise. “We’ll want you back there for the rehearsals. Next week, if at all possible.”

  She regarded him with astonishment. This was an angle she hadn’t expected. Though the proposal might have been tempting under other circumstances, right now she wasn’t remotely interested in going back.

  “It’s not possible,” she said firmly.

  “The following week, then,” Marty suggested, deliberately misunderstanding. “Though that’s cutting it close if we expect to have this production ready by the middle of January. You see the sacrifices we’re willing to make to have you back?”

  “I’m not coming back,” Bree said.

  “Of course you are,” Marty countered, his confidence undaunted. “Chicago is where you belong. I heard all about your plans to open a little theater here, but why would you waste your talent in a place like this when you could be successful in a major city? You’re destined for big things, Bree. You had a couple of setbacks, sure, but you’re talented. You belong where you can make the most of that talent.”

  This was the Marty Bree remembered from her first days in Chicago—smooth, charming, saying all the right things to convince her she was the best writer he’d ever mentored. Now she found she didn’t trust a word coming out of his mouth. So, she had learned from her mistakes, she thought in wonder.

  Even as she was congratulating herself for being less gullible, she also sensed Jake’s increasing tension. She had a feeling this was going to get ugly, and she had no idea how to diffuse the situation.

  As she considered what she could do, Jake looked from her to Marty and back again, then stood. “Obviously you two have a lot to discuss. I’ll leave you to it,” he said tightly.

  Bree jumped up. “Jake!” she protested as he strode away, but he never even looked back.

  She would have gone after him, but Marty grabbed her wrist. “Let him go. This is important. Not everyone gets another chance after the kind of disaster that last production turned out to be.”

  She whirled around and frowned at his choice of words. How had she missed seeing what a bully he was, how cruel he could be even when pretending to be her biggest booster?

  “You’re right,” she said. “Not everyone gets the second chances that matter. That’s why I’m leaving here right now. Don’t follow me.”

  And then she ran, praying that she could find Jake before it was too late. She knew exactly how his mind worked, how fragile their newfound bond still was. If she didn’t see him at once, reassure him that this time was going to be different, that Chicago held no allure, he would slam the door on what they had. He would do it not to punish her, but to protect his heart from one more bitter disappointment.

  23

  J ake wondered what Bree had told Marty after he’d left the two of them together. Though her refusal of Marty’s offer had been clear enough, Jake had seen the quick flash of excitement in her eyes at the mention of having another of her plays produced in Chicago. This time he had no intention of standing in her way, if that’s what she wanted. And though she might not be ready to admit it—even to herself—she did want it. That glint in her eyes was proof of that.

  Because he didn’t want to discuss it with her, wasn’t ready to hear her trying to convince him that going back to Chicago would only be temporary, he turned off his cell phone. Knowing that might bring her straight to his doorstep, he opted not to go home. Instead, he went to Brady’s, where he found Will and Mack already seated at the bar, their expressions morose.

  “Well, aren’t we a sorry lot,” Jake said as he joined them and ordered a beer. “What put the two of you in such sour moods?”

  “Women,” Will said succinctly. “You?”

  “A woman,” Jake replied, then added, “and another man.”

  That got their attention.

  “Bree’s seeing someone else?” Mack asked incredulously. “I don’t believe it.”

  “She’s with him at this very moment,” Jake confirmed, draining his first beer and ordering a second.

  Will, who’d clearly passed his limit of two beers, blinked owlishly. “Hold on. Wasn’t she out with you tonight?”

  “Yep. And then her old boyfriend from Chicago decided to pay her a surprise visit. He landed at our table, settled right in as if he’d been invited and started wooing her.”

  “Wooing her?” Will asked with shock. “In front of you?”

  “Yep.”

  Mack looked bewildered. “Okay, that’s really lame, but you just left them together? What were you thinking?”

  “It seemed the wise thing to do,” Jake said, though Mack’s reaction had planted a tiny seed of doubt.

  “Wise in what universe?” Will asked. “You left the field open to the competition, pal. No way is that smart.”

  “Agreed,” Mack said.

  “He wants her back in Chicago.”

  “He actually said that?”

  “He did. He used a powerful lure, too. He wants to produce another of her plays. For Bree that’s like offering candy to a toddler. She won’t be able to resist.”

  “That’s big,” Will conceded mournfully. “That’d be hard for any woman to resist, especially one who’s as dedicated to her writing as I know Bree used to be.”

  “Exactly what I thought,” Jake replied. “And, for the record and her flower shop aside, Bree is still dedicated to her writing. I wasn’t going to sit there and watch her fall right back into that jerk’s orbit. She might not want to go back to him, but she won’t turn down a chance to have her play produced at a prestigious regional theater. How can she? Even I—a country yokel in Marty’s opinion—can see that might be career suicide.”

  “Hold on a minute,” Mack asked. “Did she say yes?”

  Jake shook his head. “No, she turned him down, but it was obvious to me she didn’t want to. She was just saying what she thought I’d want to hear.”

  Will shook his head sorrowfully. “Pal, you don’t have such a great track record at reading Bree’s mind. Maybe you should give her the benefit of the doubt.”

  “I can’t,” Jake said. “Too risky.”

  “Risky how?” Mack asked.

  Jake didn’t want to answer, didn’t want to lay his vulnerability out there, not even in front of his two best friends.

  “He’s afraid of getting his heart broken again,” Will said, nodding sagely. “Don’t blame him.” He tapped his bottle of beer to Jake’s. “This is quite a pickle you’re in.”

  Quite a pickle? Jake mouthed to Mack. Aloud he asked, “Exactly how long have the two of you been here drowning your sorrows?”

  “Not sure,” Will said. “What time is it?”

  “Just after ten,” Jake told him.

  “Since six,” Will murmured. “So that’s…um…what is it?”

  “Four hours and too many beers,” Jake concluded. “Let’s call someone to take us all home.”

  “Nobody to call,” Will said, looking even sadder.

&
nbsp; “Susie?” Jake suggested to Mack.

  “Hell, no,” Mack said fiercely. “Why do you think I’m here? The woman’s impossible.”

  “I see,” Jake said, though he didn’t. Not really. Supposedly they were just friends, but obviously something had finally shifted in dramatic fashion, at least for Mack. Jake had tried to warn him he was in deeper than he’d admitted, but Mack had glossed over his involvement with yet another unpredictable O’Brien woman.

  “I’ll call Connie,” he told them. “She’ll come.”

  He made the call on Will’s cell phone because he didn’t want to risk turning on his own and seeing a bunch of messages from Bree…or no messages at all. Either way would be depressing.

  When his sister picked up and heard his voice, she said, “Where are you? Bree’s been calling here every five minutes looking for you.”

  “I’m not there,” Jake said, stating the obvious.

  “Well, duh! I know that and judging from the sound of your voice, you’re somewhere getting drunk. Mind telling me why? I thought you and Bree had a date tonight.”

  “Actually I do mind discussing my personal life,” he said, proud of himself for taking a stance against her probing. “Just save the questions and come and get me. None of us are in any condition to drive.”

  “None of who?”

  “I’m with Mack and Will. They had a head start.”

  “And you thought of me,” she muttered. “Gee, I’m blessed.”

  “Are you coming to get us or not?”

  She heaved an exaggerated sigh. “Where are you?”

  “Brady’s.”

  “Give me ten minutes,” she said. “And be out front when I get there, or I’m driving off without you.”

  “You’re the best, sis.”

  “Damn straight. I intend to remind you of that tomorrow when we discuss my raise.”

  “Raise?” he mumbled. “What raise?” But he was talking to dead air, because his sister had already hung up.

  “We need to go outside,” he told Mack and Will. “I think she’s a little ticked that I called her.”

  “Typical,” Mack said. “She’s a woman, isn’t she? None of them make a damn bit of sense.”

  Jake certainly couldn’t argue with that.

  Bree never had tracked down Jake. She’d finally found his truck along the waterfront near Brady’s, but when she’d gone inside there’d been no sign of him. Lou Herrera, the longtime bartender at Brady’s, told her he’d left with Mack and Will. He told her he’d gotten the impression they were drowning their sorrows. She’d given up then and gone home. If Jake had finished even a couple of beers, he wasn’t likely to be reasonable.

  This morning, she’d been trying Jake’s cell phone since seven. At eight, she’d started calling the nursery. At nine, Connie had answered.

  “Where’s your brother?” she asked without preamble. “Has he turned up yet?”

  “He’s on a job,” Connie said.

  “Without his cell phone?”

  Connie hesitated, then said, “He must not have turned it on.”

  “Okay, what do you know?” Bree demanded. “I can hear something in your voice. You’ve seen him since the last time I spoke to you last night.”

  “He called,” Connie admitted. “He, Mack and Will needed a ride home from Brady’s.”

  “Yeah, I gathered something like that had happened when I found his truck at Brady’s and no sign of him inside. Thank goodness, they still had sense enough not to drive.”

  “That’s about all the sense they displayed, if you ask me,” Connie said with disgust. “This is not like my brother.”

  “I know,” Bree agreed. “He likes being in control. He has a beer from time to time, maybe a glass of wine, but he never gets plastered.”

  “Well, he did last night,” Connie said. “Though to be fair, Will and Mack were in worse shape. I have no idea what problems they were drowning, but I’ve figured out that something happened last night between you and my brother.”

  Bree saw no point in denying it. The evening had turned into a disaster, and there’d been enough locals in the inn’s dining room that word was bound to spread. “Marty showed up in the middle of our dinner,” she confessed.

  “Oh, boy,” Connie said. “No wonder Jake went into a tailspin.”

  “I honestly don’t get it,” Bree told her. “Sure, Marty and I have a history, a pretty complicated one in fact, but Jake was sitting right there when I told Marty I wasn’t interested in coming back to Chicago. Jake heard me turn down his offer to produce another one of my plays. Did he think I was lying?”

  “Since I wasn’t there, I can’t say for sure, but maybe he thought you didn’t want to say how much you wanted it right in front of him,” Connie suggested.

  “But I don’t want it,” Bree protested. “Oh, I was tempted for about half a second, but that was it. Then I remembered how manipulative Marty is, what a bully he can be once he’s gotten his way. I don’t want that in my life ever again.”

  “So, tell that to Jake and keep on saying it till he believes you.”

  “I would if I could find him,” Bree said in frustration. “You know I’ve been looking for him. I started calling you last night about two seconds after he took off from the inn.”

  Connie fell silent.

  “Come on,” Bree pleaded. “Help me out here. Tell me where he is.”

  “He’s helping Jess at the inn,” she said at last.

  “What? How?”

  “This time of year he’s built up a good business doing exterior holiday decorations for people. Jess hired him to get the inn ready for Christmas. I’m surprised she didn’t mention it.”

  “Actually, I haven’t seen her for a week or so,” Bree said. “I had a wedding last weekend, and now I’m up to my eyeballs in making Thanksgiving centerpieces.”

  “You going over there?” Connie asked. “That’s the only way you’re going to get him to talk, by getting in his face. Otherwise, he’ll keep right on avoiding you. Given what you just told me, he’s probably convinced he’s doing the right thing.”

  “And he accused me of being a coward,” Bree muttered, exasperated.

  “What?”

  “Never mind. Is he going to be there all day?”

  “Probably.”

  “Then as soon as Jenny gets here after school, I’ll head over there.”

  “I could come now,” Connie said. “It’s slow around here. I won’t be missed. I want this thing between you and my brother to work this time. I’ll do whatever I can to see that he doesn’t get in his own way.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Thanks, Connie. I really appreciate it.”

  “Give me a few minutes to let someone know I’m going, and I’ll be right over.”

  Bree managed to put together a small get-well bouquet for a walk-in customer and another Thanksgiving arrangement by the time Connie made it to the shop.

  “Go,” Connie said. “I’ll hold down the fort. If anyone wants an arrangement other than those you have on hand, I’ll tell them the florist will get to it later.”

  Bree nodded. “Works for me.”

  After all, it was entirely possible that Jake would refuse to spend one single second discussing anything with her, in which case the whole trip would last a half hour at most, including travel time.

  When Bree arrived at the inn, she instantly spotted Jake at the top of a very tall ladder stringing lights along the eaves. As she crossed the lawn, Jess came to greet her.

  “You look lousy,” her sister said.

  “Gee, thanks,” Bree replied testily. “That makes me feel so much better.”

  “Something going on with you and Jake? I mentioned you earlier and he nearly bit my head off.”

  “We’ve had a slight misunderstanding. That’s why I’m here, to straighten it out before things get blown out of all proportion.”

  “It wouldn’t have anything to do
with the fact that Martin Demming is staying here, would it?” Jess inquired, her expression knowing.

  “Marty’s staying here?”

  “Oh, yeah,” Jess confirmed. “I didn’t take the reservation myself or I’d have turned it down. I’ve considered slipping a snake into his bed, but the code enforcers might frown on that.”

  “I’m sure they would,” Bree agreed, though she certainly endorsed Jess’s sentiment. “Have Jake and Marty crossed paths this morning?”

  Jess looked over her shoulder. “You mean before now?”

  “Oh, please do not tell me he is heading this way,” Bree said.

  “Sorry, sis. Maybe you ought to get him away from here. Being up on that ladder is precarious enough without stirring up Jake’s temper. I don’t want to pay for hospitalization for either one of them if he decides to tackle your ex-boyfriend from that height.”

  Bree cast a reluctant look in Marty’s direction, saw the determination on his face, then glanced up at Jake, who’d gone completely still. Could this get any more complicated?

  Gritting her teeth, she turned to Jess. “I’ll deal with Marty, but whatever you do, do not let Jake leave here until we’ve talked. I mean it. I don’t care if you have to tie him up with strands of Christmas lights.”

  Jess grinned. “An intriguing concept. A little kinky, but I like it.”

  “This is so not amusing,” Bree told her as she turned to head off Marty.

  “Isn’t that your friend up there on the ladder?” Marty asked, looking down his supercilious nose. “Please tell me you are not serious about someone who does…” He hesitated. “Well, whatever it is that he does.”

  “He owns a very successful nursery and landscaping company,” she said tightly. “Why are you still here?”

  “To persuade you to rethink your decision, of course.” He tucked her arm through his and steered her toward the front door of the inn. “We’ll have tea and some of your sister’s fabulous scones and discuss my offer again. I’m sure I can convince you that you belong back in Chicago.”