“Sorry. The comment is courtesy of my sister, and she took great delight in sharing it with me.”
“Does your sister like you?”
“Of course she does, but you have sisters. You know a sister never passes up a chance to take you down a peg.”
Daniel laughed. “That I get. Nina can’t resist sending me a copy of any magazine I’m in. She’s the queen of spin.”
“I figured that out when we had dinner with her and your parents. Don’t you have another sister?”
“Lola. She’s a musical genius. Right now she’s scoring a movie, and I haven’t seen her in weeks. When she’s working, she buries herself in her house in Venice Beach and doesn’t come up for air until she’s finished. My mother goes over twice a week to force her to take a break and eat. Otherwise she’d work until she exhausts herself.”
“I can relate to that,” Greer said, “When the theme for the next parade is announced, I go into deep design mode. I barely get out of my pajamas because it would take too much time to dress.” She was usually up to her ears in adjusting designs she’d already drawn and created new ones from scratch.
“How do you compete against yourself?”
“Every client wants something different. They all get equal love. I have no favorites among my children.”
“I was hoping my float might be your favorite.”
She shook her head. “Nope.”
“Am I your favorite something?”
“You’re my favorite talk-show host.”
He grinned and shook his head. “I have to tell you, Greer, you’re good at keeping me and my ego in check.”
“My job here is done, then.” She smiled back. “Come on, let’s eat dinner. I’m not a great cook like your parents are, but I know my way around the kitchen.”
“Can’t wait.”
She served dinner—oven-fried chicken, asparagus wrapped in bacon and garlic potatoes. She lit candles on the table and lowered the overhead lights to a gentle dimness. As they ate, a comfortable silence fell over them, and Greer was loath to see the end. In the candlelight, she studied Daniel.
“About the tabloid article,” Daniel said. “I feel like I should apologize.”
That was sweet. He was such a gentleman. “I’ll admit,” she said, “I was both shocked and amused. I wanted to die from the shock at being the object of such scurrilous gossip, and I wanted to laugh at the hilarity of it all because the story was so silly. The fact that some man said I had fat earlobes made me feel like I didn’t have the right to show my face to the world.”
“Welcome to my life. Fortunately, another scandal will push us off the front cover and take our place. The best advice I ever received was just to ignore it. So many of the stories are so far from the truth, I can’t help but laugh at times. There was a story once that Logan brushed his teeth every morning with Johnnie Walker.”
“Black or red?”
“Blue. Logan wasn’t about to use the cheap stuff on his teeth.”
She laughed. “I can’t help but wonder why people buy these tabloid magazines.”
Daniel paused, his head tilted to one side while he thought. “People who make a lot of money are always under scrutiny. The general population likes to know that celebrities can make mistakes and takes great pleasure in seeing them make those mistakes. And let’s face it—some celebrities are just plain stupid. Some welcome the attention because it either feeds their egos or helps promote them. Nina says publicity is publicity, good or bad.”
“If I’m going to be the object of such attention, then I want it to be good attention for my parents’ company, not bad attention on my earlobes.”
Daniel burst out laughing. “Will you stop? Your earlobes are fine. They’re beautiful and I love them.”
She touched her ears. “You love my earlobes!”
“They have character and spunk.”
That was the coolest thing a man had ever said to her. Not that she was going to let it go without commentary. “So now I have fat, sassy earlobes.”
“With character. Own them,” Daniel said.
“This is the silliest conversation I think I’ve ever had.”
“I think it’s hilarious,” Daniel said. “But can we move on to something else—like us?”
They’d finished the main course. As Daniel cleared the table, she brought out the crème brûlée, which was the only dessert she could do well.
“What about us?” she finally asked.
“I like you. In fact, I like you a lot.”
His words were like a spark that lit a fire in her body.
“I like seeing you,” Daniel continued. “I like the way you think. I like being with you.”
Greer felt the heat burn a path to her feminine parts. Just being around Daniel made her want to run her hands over his chest and arms. She loved the way he felt lying next to her in bed, his skin hot against hers. Right now she wanted to feel that again. She put the thought on hold so she could reply.
“I like you, too. I like that you have a public face and a private face and you know how to integrate them. I like that you’re not impressed by your celebrity. And I like that you’re kind and generous.” She looked into his eyes, seeing the amber color flare to life in the brown depths. She was afraid to ask her question, but she needed to know the answer. “Where do we go from here?”
He studied her for a moment before answering. “I think we need to relax, play it by ear, let things happen and not worry about the direction. What happens, happens.”
Greer opened her mouth to concur, but instead a yawn came out. She clapped a hand over her mouth but couldn’t stop the next one. “Sorry.”
He grinned at her and stood. “I think that’s my cue.”
“Sorry,” she apologized again. “Today was a long one, and it’s going to get more hectic next week. And the day after Christmas I have to hit the ground running until all the floats are completely decorated.”
He kissed her gently, his lips soft against hers. “I have to be at the studio by four a.m. tomorrow, so it’s an early night for both of us.”
She walked him to the door, reluctantly. She wanted him to stay, but she couldn’t seem to keep her eyes open. She watched him walk down the brick sidewalk leading to the driveway. He waved once, got into his Mercedes and backed out. She closed the front door and leaned against it. Her dogs sniffed at her feet for a moment before heading back to the kitchen. A second later, she heard the doggie door flap open and closed as they scrambled through.
She cleaned the kitchen and headed to her lonely bed, all the while wondering where she was heading with Daniel Torres.
* * *
Greer put her hands over her ears and let out a moan. “I can’t listen to any more.”
Rachel pulled her hands down as Chelsea continued to read.
“‘Sources close to us say this is one explosive love triangle. Logan Pierce and Daniel Torres are in competition for former beauty queen—’”
“‘Former beauty queen’!” Greer exploded. “Like I haven’t moved on with my life or something.”
Chelsea continued, ignoring the interruption. “‘—former beauty queen Greer Courtland of Courtland Float Designs.’” Having completed the sentence, she looked up at Greer. “Be quiet. You’re taking all the fun out of this for me.” She looked back down at the tabloid and continued to read. “‘Greer, seen having lunch with Logan Pierce, seems to be on intimate terms with the hunky former football player. Are wedding bells in the air for either of them?’”
“What do you mean, ‘intimate terms’? You were there and you’re not even mentioned.”
“You are N-F-A-A.”
“What does that mean?” Greer eyed her sister.
“No fun at all.”
“This is my life being disse
cted in the tabloids.”
“And it’s finally interesting,” Rachel put in with a giggle.
Greer covered her face with her hands, feeling the heat emanating from her cheeks. The embarrassment of this continued scrutiny left her at the mercy of her family’s weird sense of humor. Her father chortled every time he saw her, and her mother couldn’t stop laughing. They weren’t the ones under the microscope. Greer felt like a train wreck waiting to happen.
Logan peeked into her office. “Hey, Greer.”
“Go away,” she half screamed. “Go away. I don’t want to be seen with you.”
He stepped into her office, a small box with a red bow in one hand. “I’m not going away.”
“Just stay away from me.”
Logan took the magazine from Chelsea and glanced at it. “Hey, don’t take it so personally. Though I have to say, I haven’t had this much fun since I dated Anya Baslov.”
“Who is Anya Baslov?” Chelsea asked.
“Minor Russian tennis player. Great backhand, gorgeous legs, but not much going on between her ears.”
“What does that say about you?” Rachel asked him.
“That I’m shallow, and I accept that. But the fact that I want to date Greer means I’m a man of substance.”
“Greer the former beauty queen,” Chelsea teased.
Greer growled deep in her throat. “Chelsea, Rachel, leave.” She stood and pointed at the door.
Her sisters left, Chelsea laughing delightedly and Rachel giggling.
Logan closed the door. “Listen, I’m going to give you some advice about tabloid stories. First of all, they write crap hoping they’ll get a reaction from you that will escalate into an even bigger pile of crap. Female stars have been pregnant so many times, they’re solely responsible for the world’s population explosion. At any moment the hottest starlet is desperate for a baby, she lives in fear of being pregnant, she’s expecting quadruplets and she’s moving to Vermont for the rest of her life. Don’t get me wrong—there are celebrities out there who have their own brand of crazy, but they’re smart enough to have a media team whose sole purpose is to cover it all up.”
“Do you have crazy?”
“I don’t have time for crazy. I like my job, and I’m always looking for interesting things to keep my audience coming back for more. Just ignore it. Trust me. Something else will come along in a week and you’ll be old news.”
“Promise?”
“Maybe this will make you feel better. This is an early Christmas present and an I’m-sorry present.” He held out the small box to her.
“Sorry for what?”
“Sorry that you got caught between Daniel and me and our competition.”
She took the box and shook it cautiously. “What’s inside?”
“Open the box and find out.”
She carefully undid the bow and opened the box. A hoop earring with a tiny row of diamonds set in platinum winked at her.
“This is for your fat earlobe.”
She stared at the earring and then at Logan. For the first time, she actually liked him. “There’s only one earring.”
“This one is from me, and you’ll probably get the other one when you see Daniel next. He was going to come with me, but it’s crazy at the studio today. He said he’d meet up with you later.”
She took the earring out of the box, removed one of her Christmas tree earrings and inserted the new one. She rose on tiptoe and kissed Logan on the cheek. “Thank you.”
He grinned. “You’re welcome.” A faint blush crept up his cheeks.
After he left, she fingered the earring, wondering when Daniel intended to call. Thirty seconds later, he did.
“How about lunch?” Daniel asked. He sounded excited.
“Sorry, I can’t today. Every year the past Rose Queens get together for a luncheon, and today is the day.” Greer looked forward to it every year. She would pick up Mrs. Allenworth, and the two of them would drive together.
“Sounds like fun. What do you all talk about?”
“We catch up. Who’s had babies, who’s doing what. The usual girl talk. And we all get dressed up, and we have a purse competition.”
“That’s a new one. I’ve heard of shoe competitions, but not purse competitions.”
“We give out prizes for the most unique purse, the prettiest, the ugliest, the most different, the cutest, and whatever else we think up.”
“I’d like to be a fly on the wall for this event. What kind of purse will you take?”
Greer simply laughed. “I went all out this year and bought the Charlotte Olympia pink poodle purse. I should at least win for cuteness.”
“You take this seriously, don’t you?”
“Last year I was hurt because my coffin purse didn’t win.”
“Too macabre, probably.”
“I thought for sure I’d win. I even made over my old Barbie doll into a vampire with fangs and tucked it inside. But I lost the unique purse category to a piñata.”
“I think I get it.”
“That’s because you’re competing with your best friend over a float.”
Daniel laughed. “How about dinner? And bring the poodle.”
“You’re on.”
* * *
The luncheon was held in the permanent headquarters for the Tournament of Roses Association. Built in 1914 by the chewing gum magnate, William Wrigley Jr., the house was situated on what had once been called Millionaire’s Row. Greer loved every inch of the old house, from the high ceilings to the elaborate fireplaces.
All former queens were invited to meet the current queen and her court. The meeting room was decorated with fresh-cut roses at the center of each round table.
“I’m the oldest one left,” Mrs. Allenworth said as Greer helped her into the mansion.
“And you can still out-queen any one of us any day of the year.”
Though growing stooped, Mrs. Allenworth was still regal, with her snow-white hair pulled into a tasteful French roll at the back of her head. These days, she’d taken to using a cane, but she kept herself in shape by swimming in her indoor pool. She took great pride in the laps she did daily.
“Will you look at that woman,” Mrs. Allenworth said, jutting her chin at Zelda Winthrop. “She’s still holding court like she is the current queen even though she’s on husband number five.”
“You’re such a gossip.”
“We don’t want anyone talking about your fat earlobes.” Mrs. Allenworth had lived in Pasadena her whole life with her oil magnate husband, who’d only recently retired at the age of eighty-three. She knew everything there was to know about Pasadena society, including where the bodies were buried.
Greer’s face scrunched. “You saw that tabloid, did you?”
Before Mrs. Allenworth could reply, Zelda let out a cry. “And look who’s here. The woman whose earlobes are up for critical appraisal by the uncouth masses.”
Greer groaned.
Zelda drifted toward Greer and Mrs. Allenworth on a cloud of expensive perfume. “In my day, Rose Queens kept their earlobes clean and out of the gossip column.”
“Really, my dear,” Mrs. Allenworth replied, “has your current husband graduated from high school yet?”
Greer hid a smile. Zelda’s husbands grew younger with each marriage.
Zelda waved her hand. “Mrs. Allenworth, you are just so funny. How is that old goat you’re married to?”
“He’s richer, smarter and more talented than the last young goat you were married to.” Mrs. Allenworth’s voice hinted at laughter.
Zelda’s eyes narrowed. She could give and take most anything but amusement at her expense.
“Staying power,” Mrs. Allenworth said. “It’s all about staying power. Good
day, dear. Be off with you. I’m done.”
Mrs. Allenworth had won the competition and routed the enemy.
“Thank you for defending me,” Greer told her when they were alone. “I was thinking of hitting her with my purse.”
“No, dear. That’s such a lovely purse, you’ve got the competition in the bag.”
“Is that a pun?”
“You know I’m renowned for my wit.” Her eyes twinkled.
Mrs. Allenworth cruised the room, talking with the other queens and the new court. Lunch was perfect, and Greer was completely delighted to win the purse competition, besting Zelda’s silly little bag. In true form, Mrs. Allenworth clutched her vintage Chanel, thinking herself above such competitions.
Chapter 8
Daniel walked up Greer’s driveway, patting his pocket that contained the hoop earring. He’d come up with the plan as a way to apologize for involving her in the tabloid nonsense, and Logan had thought the idea perfect.
He rang the doorbell. A dog barked inside and the front door swung open, Greer standing back to let him in. It wasn’t her beautiful, curve-hugging black dress that drew his attention. It was her earring. In one ear, the twin to Daniel’s earring twinkled.
He handed her the box. “Here, so that you’re not unbalanced.”
“Thank you.” She opened the box and drew out the other earring. “You and Logan are certainly inventive.” She hooked the hoop through her ear, then handed Daniel her smartphone. “Take a photo of my earrings.”
He did and handed her phone back. She grinned as she posted the photo to her Facebook account with the caption, “Fat earlobes slimmed down with diamond earrings. Thank you, Daniel and Logan. They are perfect.”
Daniel laughed, happy she was such a good sport.
“How was the luncheon?” he asked as he helped her on with her coat.
“Usually I just walk in under the radar, but today I was the tabloid darling of all the gossips.”
“Are you okay with that?” Daniel walked her down the path to his Mercedes.
“I tried not to let it bother me, but a couple of the girls today were particularly nasty. Especially after I won the purse competition.” She held up her pink poodle purse.
Blossoms of Love Page 13
