Design for Life

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Design for Life Page 8

by Masters, Cate


  Balancing the basket, she paused at the back door. “I hope it’s nothing serious.”

  “No.” Turning away, Emmie smiled. “Nothing serious.”

  ***

  On Friday, Becca’s meeting with Maureen Dunn seemed like a dream. The woman’s enthusiasm for the designs excited her, and made her eager to return to her sketch pad. With so many new ideas for the line forming in her head, she couldn’t wait to begin.

  The week flew by in a whirlwind, and before Becca knew it, it was Friday once more.

  “My last day.” Becca hugged Deb, Emmie and Grace in turn. “It’s like leaving home all over again.” Her voice caught on the last word and she swallowed hard.

  “The Basket of Blooms won’t be the same without you.” Deb laid a hand on her shoulder.

  “We have a surprise for you.” Emmie jerked her head toward the rear staff entrance.

  Her brows flying upward, Grace stammered, “Now? I thought we were waiting till the end of the day.”

  Through clenched teeth, Emmie said in a hushed tone, “Something came up.” Her movements more fluid, she nudged Becca along. “Besides, we want to show you before you see it accidentally.”

  Her curiosity piqued, Becca couldn’t help but catch the excitement buzzing through the air. “See what?”

  Deb waited until they were at the back door then pushed it open. “Ta da!”

  With a gasp, her hand flew to her mouth. “Oh my.”

  “Isn’t it beautiful?” Emmie linked her arm through Becca’s and tugged her into the parking lot, where the delivery truck sat, repainted in vivid colors.

  In her design.

  Becca walked around it to view it from all sides. “The truck looks amazing!” Her lip trembled. Now she’d always be part of the Basket of Blooms.

  Deb folded her arms. “The sign’s being delivered next week.”

  “The business cards too,” Grace added.

  Mixed feelings overcame her—pride at the solid design, gratification at helping the shop bloom, and gratitude for their friendship. Gazing at each of the women in turn, she blinked back tears. “You’re all so wonderful.”

  Throwing an arm around her shoulder, Emmie said, “You’re the wonderful one. I drove here from the auto shop downtown yesterday and two people called to compliment us on our new logo.” With a squeeze, she added, “Good thing you were out on deliveries, or our surprise would have been ruined.”

  Her eyes wide, Grace nodded. “The design certainly attracts attention.”

  “And business.” Deb turned to Becca. “That’s why we all agreed to give you this.” She held out a yellow envelope decorated with a tiny white bow.

  Becca opened the card—a funny going-away, best-wishes, keep-in-touch card. Inside sat a check for one thousand dollars. Fumbling the card closed, she shoved the check at Deb. “No, I can’t take this. It’s far too much.”

  Grace closed a hand around hers. “We researched it, and if we’d hired someone else, we would have paid at least double that amount. And it wouldn’t have been as nice as your design.”

  Deb extended her arms for a hug. “You earned it, you deserve it. And we consider it an investment in your future.”

  Wrapped in their warm embrace, tears welled in Becca’s eyes. “I am going to miss you all so much.”

  Her first instinct was to call Mike. If only I could.

  Emmie stepped toward her. “What’s the matter?”

  Becca swiped a tear from her cheek, her throat burning. “It’s Mike. I haven’t seen him for weeks.” Or heard from him.

  With a sympathetic pout, Grace said, “I’m sure you will soon.”

  “I doubt it. He’s probably busy with work.” She shrugged. “I’m not going to have time for him, either, once I start my internship.”

  Emmie smiled. “Don’t be discouraged. Everything will work out. You’ll see.”

  Becca blinked back tears. That’s what Mike had said, but it seemed so long ago.

  ***

  At four fifty, Becca frowned at the clock. “The day’s almost over.” Time to say goodbye.

  Rushing from the back room, Deb snapped her fingers. “I almost forgot. We had a special last-minute order that needs to go pronto. Becca, could you deliver a bouquet?”

  Replacing the scissors and floral tape to the shelf beneath the table, she straightened. “Sure, I’d be happy to.” She’d hoped to have a more leisurely goodbye.

  Placing her hands at her hips, Deb scrutinized her. “There’s a catch. They requested the delivery person dress up.”

  “Really?” Confused, she tilted her head. What an odd request.

  Deb pursed her lips. “It’s a fancy restaurant. A special occasion. They wanted everything to be perfect.”

  Widening her eyes, Grace toodled her fingers. “I have a great outfit in my car. I picked up my dry cleaning this morning.”

  When Grace winked at Emmie, Becca was baffled and grimaced at her plain slacks and sweater. “I could run home and change quickly.”

  “No, there’s no time.” Pulling flat boxes from beneath the table, Deb shrugged. “I’d go, but I have to run to Pittsburgh for more inventory.”

  “This late?” Becca thought the inventory store closed at five, too, but maybe they’d extended their hours.

  Throwing up her hands, Grace rolled her eyes. “I’m buried in paperwork. I’ll be lucky to get out of here before seven as it is.”

  With a shake of her head, Emmie winced. “I have an appointment.”

  “If you would make this one last delivery, it would be a huge favor to us.” Deb touched her arm.

  She grinned. How could she deny this last request? “Are you sure you don’t mind lending me your outfit?”

  Rushing to the door, and excitement tinged Grace’s voice. “I’ll go get it.”

  “Such a strange request.” Becca glanced at Deb, then Emmie. Strange, too, that the shop had been so quiet only minutes ago, and now everyone had something pressing to do.

  “Yes, a bit unusual.” Deb carried the boxes to the front.

  Had she moved the delivery truck to the main entrance?

  Emmie shrugged. “But we aim to please our customers.”

  When Grace came in, the bell over the door jingled.

  An ache of sadness came over Becca. She’d miss that sound. The delicate trill had become such an important part of her life, just like the three sweet women.

  In a sing-song voice, Grace entered, holding out the cellophane-wrapped outfit. “Here it is. Go put it on.”

  Becca took the lilac blouse and black skirt and then frowned at her shoes. “I guess these will be all right.”

  Emmie’s hands shoo’d her. “Yes, they’ll be fine. Go change.”

  On her way to the rest room, she laughed. “I’m going, I’m going.”

  As she pulled the skirt from the hanger, she wondered why Grace had bought a size eight, though she was more of a six. And the low-cut blouse with its ruffled collar and sleeves didn’t resemble Grace’s usual taste. Maybe she saved this outfit for a night on the town. Lucky she’d picked up her dry cleaning this morning. Becca had to admit, the outfit nicely showed off her curves.

  After opening the door, she peered out into the unnaturally quiet work room. “You were right. My shoes look fine. Don’t you think?”

  Huddled near the table, the three women turned in unison.

  Like a proud parent, Deb smiled and folded her arms.

  Waving clenched fists, Emmie wrinkled her nose. “Oooh, you’re a knockout.”

  “I knew it would look great on you.” Grace nodded. The others exchanged wide-eyed nods.

  The skirt fit so well, it might have been made for her. “But you’re at least a size smaller. I don’t understand-”

  “Oh my goodness!” Grace glanced at her watch. “You have to leave now, or the delivery will be late.”

  After hurrying to the refrigerated case, Emmie pulled out a bouquet of iris, liatris, and orchids and held it out.

>   As she took the bouquet, Becca couldn’t help but admire its beauty—all her favorite flowers, arranged perfectly. “It’s quarter after five.”

  Grasping her shoulders, Grace nudged her toward the door. “Yes, the caller requested it for five thirty. Here’s the address.”

  With halting steps, she read the slip of paper. “Mangia Qui? I’ve heard it’s wonderful.”

  Close behind, Emmie said, “Yes, the food’s excellent, and so’s the atmosphere.”

  “Very upscale.” Crowding close, Grace’s wide eyes sparkled.

  “Go.” Deb opened the door. “Drive safe.”

  “All right. I’ll get your outfit back to you as soon as I can, Grace.” At least she’d have an excuse to stop by and visit now.

  After climbing into her car, Becca waved at the women hovering in the doorway. If all had been so rushed, why hadn’t they continued with their duties?

  The thought faded as she drove to the restaurant and circled through the parking lot, trying to find a space. When she walked inside, she headed for the hostess podium. “Hi. I’m here to deliver a bouquet from the Basket of Blooms.”

  “Right this way.” The hostess smiled and led her to a private room. She knocked on the door and turned away.

  “Thank you,” Becca called after her. Behind her, the door opened.

  Her breath hitched in her throat, and the bouquet slipped from her grasp. “Mike.”

  Stooping quickly, he caught the flowers. “Hello, Becca.”

  His dark gaze held a fiery spark. The layers of his hair appeared more even, as if recently trimmed. The grey shirt he wore had been ironed.

  A lump formed in her throat. Never had he looked more strikingly handsome.

  He jerked the door wider. “Please. Come in.”

  Without thinking, she did as he asked. “What are you doing here?” Warmth crept up her neck and her pulse raced.

  His movements swift, he closed the door and strode to the table. “Would you care for a drink?”

  The table for two appeared lovely lit by candlelight, echoing the soft glow of candles in the wall sconces above the side credenza, where Norah Jones’ velvety voice floated from the CD player. An ice bucket on a tripod held a bottle. A wrapped gift topped with a silver bow sat atop the linen tablecloth.

  “What is all this?” Did she dare to hope he’d arranged this for her? No, the present’s for someone else, like all the rest.

  “When I called in the order, I requested you deliver it. At the end of the day. I was hoping you’d have dinner with me.” His eyebrows twitched together. “I tried to call your cell, but it was off. The house phone rang and rang.”

  Tensing, she cast her gaze to the floor. “Sorry, I haven’t been home much. I lost my cell after…” Time to tell him. “After Mom died.”

  He engulfed her in his embrace. “I’m so sorry.”

  Her lip trembled. “I couldn’t reach you, so I thought…” She eased away.

  He held her arms. “Thought what?”

  She shook her head. So stupid. “Someone said you’d dated other students.”

  “Becca, please listen to me.” He crouched lower to peer at her. “Do you want to know how many students I’ve dated?”

  Nibbling her lip, she willed herself to say nothing. Like a schoolgirl, she’d overreacted to Andy’s taunts.

  “Including you—one.” His thumbs caressed her shoulders.

  The warmth in his face as he spoke and his gentle touch put her at ease. “Mike. I’m sorry.” She slid her arms around his neck. “I should never have listened to him.” Never again would she allow someone else to make her doubt her feelings. Or Mike’s.

  “Andy?” he murmured.

  Surprise flashed through her body and her mouth dropped open. “How did you know?”

  Grinning, he ran his hands down her back. “He’s obviously crazy about you.”

  She tightened her embrace. “But I’m crazy about you.” When she brought her lips to his, warmth rushed through her. Laughter and tears bubbled up, buoyed by happiness.

  “I’m sorry circumstances have kept us apart. I’ve been away for a few weeks at the Pittsburgh office, but should have made time to connect with you.” He searched her face. “And I want you to know there is no one else in my life. We should probably have talked about this before, but I thought you and I felt the same.”

  Heart pounding, she blurted, “We do. I don’t want to see anyone else, either.”

  “Good.” His eyes danced in the candlelight. “I have something for you.”

  The air in the room seemed thinner, and she struggled to catch her breath. “You do? What is it?”

  He reached over to the table and handed her the gift. “Here.”

  “No, Mike…”

  “Open it.”

  Curiosity convinced her to rip it open. Inside sat a new cell. “How did you know?”

  He tapped some keys and held it up. “Look.”

  His name appeared under Contacts.

  “I love it.” She wouldn’t lose this one.

  “And,” he said, pulling her close, “I have a proposition.”

  “What do you propose?” The word, and all it implied, sent a rush through her.

  He trailed his fingers down her spine. “Let’s promise not to let anything interfere again.”

  Her gaze followed her fingers to the buttons of his soft cotton shirt as she felt his chest rise and fall with his breaths. Distracted by the three open buttons, and the warm, smooth skin beneath. “Life has been crazy. Everything’s so unsettled right now.”

  “I know. I’ll help any way I can.”

  His lips nuzzling her jaw drove her to distraction. “I can’t impose.”

  “Never say that.” His intense gaze pierced hers.

  Her fingers played with the hair curling over the back of his collar as she calculated. “I still have so much to do with the house, and now I’m starting the internship on Monday.”

  “Following your dreams is important, and I’ll do all I can to help you.”

  The steadiness of his voice, his gaze, erased any lingering doubt. He’d always be there for her. The knowledge warmed her to the core. “You already have.” More than anyone in her life. He’d been a mentor and friend. Now she wanted more.

  Tucking her hair behind her shoulder, he heaved a sigh. “I don’t want to lose you again, Becca. I’m willing to work hard to make sure of it. Luckily, your employers went out on a limb to help me this time. Or, I should say, former employers.”

  Her heart beating wildly, she tightened her arms around his neck. “Oh, Mike. That would be wonderful.” Then realization dawned. “That explains the outfit. So Deb, Emmie and Grace set me up.”

  Mike’s smile was lopsided. “I couldn’t have done it without them. But the follow-up is all up to me.”

  “Such as?” Anticipation heightened her excitement. She wanted to hear him spell out everything.

  “Such as this.” His warm lips pressed against hers.

  Sliding her hands into his soft hair, she sighed as his hands wandered down her back, their bodies softly swaying as Ray Lamontagne crooned from the CD player. “Did you record these songs?”

  “We needed the right music for a special occasion.”

  At a knock on the door, they turned toward it.

  The waitress blushed. “I’ll come back.”

  After the door closed, he leaned his forehead against hers and smiled. “Let’s discuss the details over dinner tonight. And tomorrow night, I’ll make you that dinner I promised. Finally.”

  “Working out the details may take awhile.” Becca twined her arms around his neck.

  “I hope so.” His voice softened. “These past few months, I found myself falling in love with you.”

  A thrill ran through her. “Oh, Mike. I love you, too.”

  As his lips met hers, Becca welled with happiness. No words could convey how right being with him felt. How her life had somehow designed this specially for her—this c
oming together with someone so well fitted for her, he might have been the opposite side of the mold from which she’d been made. Any good design began with a strong foundation. That foundation was this moment.

  The life she’d dreamed of would be of her own design.

  ###

  About the Author

  Cate Masters has made beautiful central Pennsylvania her home, but will always be a Jersey girl at heart. A lover of all great writing, she aspires to entertain and enthrall with her own stories. Most days, she can be found in her lair, concocting a magical brew of fantasy/paranormal, contemporary and historical stories with her cat, Chairman Maiow, and dog Lily as company. Look for her at http://catemasters.blogspot.com, Facebook, Goodreads, and in strange nooks and far-flung corners of the web.

  Cate loves to hear from readers. Email her at: cate.masters AT gmail.com.

 

 

 


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