by Jen Peters
Her laugh brought him back to the conversation, and he realized he must have been attentive without really listening. They shifted from her friends’ high school antics to the scramble for the Markov wedding, how many helpers to hire, what flowers they should have in addition to the bridal arrangements. Mitch was still thinking about what made her tick. He had no idea what she was thinking underneath their business conversation.
Delighted with Billy’s cooking, Mitch took one last bite and wiped his mouth. “Last night you seemed to get a little defensive about what a small town has to offer. But before that, I had the feeling you couldn’t wait to get out of here.”
Ree played with her napkin, and he could almost see her discard possible answers. She finally spoke. “Sometimes I want out of town so bad I can taste it, especially when you guys talk about all your travels. But other times…” She looked through the window to the tall pines and the mountains behind them. “Other times, I wonder why I would trade all this for the crazy life of cities and people like Chef LaSalle. We have good folks here.”
Mitch only nodded—she didn’t sound finished.
Her napkin was a crumpled mess before she spoke again. “I do have dreams, but I’m here for now, and that’s got to be enough.”
Mitch’s eyes softened. “Then we’ll have to do what we can to make it enough.” Once the inn was up and running, he’d whisk her away to someplace special.
Billy came out with dessert, a chocolate lava cake with mint sauce and raspberries. It looked as decadent as any Mitch had seen. “I could do a crème brûlée tomorrow instead, if you’d like. And are there any allergies to consider, since we’re doing a set menu?"
Mitch hadn’t considered that. “I don’t think so, but I really don’t know.”
Billy nodded. “We’d better skip the shellfish and maybe do stuffed mushrooms for the appetizer? And will you choose the wines or would you like me to do that?”
“Stuffed mushrooms are fine,” Mitch answered, pleased with the direction Billy was taking. “And I’ll take care of the wine." He squeezed Ree’s hand—what would they have done if she hadn’t known Billy?
“It sounds wonderful,” Ree said, composed and businesslike again. “Let me know what items you want to get yourself and what you want me to send someone to Eugene for. You’ve seen a lot of the staples already.”
He nodded and turned to go.
“And Billy,” Mitch added, “thank you for stepping in.”
The young chef grinned at that, the smile reaching his quiet eyes. “Feels good to cook in a proper kitchen again. Dad’s old place just doesn’t quite cut it.”
Mitch sat back, replete and relieved. They had their chef. The lava cake was exquisite and definitely needed to be tomorrow’s dessert. But their conversation had mostly been on the surface, and the bit of personal insight still didn’t tell him enough about Ree.
* * *
Sunday was a big day with way too much to do. Ree spent an hour finishing a report for a class, then ran over to the shop to do arrangements before she was needed at the inn.
Her mother was sitting at the worktable, holding clippers but just staring into space.
“Mom? What are you doing?”
Mrs. Swanson shook her head slightly. “Just seeing how I do holding clippers.”
Ree patted her on the shoulder. “Don’t work your hand too hard.” She began running wire up the floral stems she needed, but looked up to see her mother still staring at nothing.
“Mom! Just what is going on?”
Mrs. Swanson shrugged. “I have a decision to make. I’ve been offered some help with the shop and greenhouse.”
“Someone else to do the arrangements?” Ree’s heart leapt at the possibility. Not that she didn’t love her mother, but she had so much to do with the inn. And she was really sick of getting pricked by thorns and poked by wire.
But Mom shook her head. “Evidently Mr. McCormick is taking an interest in the town since he bought the mansion back. Your Mr. Blake spoke with me last week about loans and grants the McCormick Foundation is offering.”
Her Mr. Blake. The thought warmed her. Then her mother’s words sunk in. “But you told me you didn’t want a lot of debt on the flower shop, or you’d have nothing to retire with.”
“Yes, well, he actually offered me a grant to get help here. Seems to think you’re being overworked,” she smiled.
“That would be awesome! I could be full time at the inn and—”
Mom shook her head. “I said no. I can’t take charitable funds just because I’m laid up.”
“But Mom—“
“No buts, young lady, this is my decision." She paused, then smiled slightly. “But I am considering taking him up on either a grant or a low-interest loan for the greenhouse.”
“The greenhouse?”
Her mother waved her hand around the workroom. “This shop, I enjoy it, but it’s only been a means to an end. I needed a business that would support us on our own, and I knew flowers. But the greenhouse…Mitch seems to think that the batwing flowers could be sold online and shipped, and that breeding lilies might pay off someday. He said I should talk to an advisor and draw up a business plan.”
Mitch offered all that? Ree tried to picture her mother in the wholesale business instead of birthday bouquets and funeral flowers. “Would you keep running the shop?”
“Oh yes. I still need an income and we’re the only florists in town—where would people go if I weren’t here? But if this doesn’t heal properly after all,” she held up her hand and turned it, looking at it from a distance, “then I’d feel okay turning the shop over to someone else, and I’d breed lilies all day. Maybe." She frowned suddenly.
Ree frowned herself. Someone else run the shop? How strange it would be to have someone else behind the counter. She wasn’t doing very well picturing it. Unless…her mother couldn’t mean for Ree to take over. Could she?
Her mother stood suddenly, shaking off her silent thoughts. “That’s enough of that—whatever might change won’t change today. Let me get the stems, and you can do the cutting and wiring.”
Ree worked on arrangements for the next hour, thinking about changes, thinking about Mitch and his offer. It was really nice of Mr. McCormick to invest in the town, but she wondered why Mitch was the one talking to people. And she wondered what other businesses he had approached with the possibility of a grant or loan.
She tried to picture the video store, the bowling alley, even the IGA Grocery all spiffed up and modernized. Tried to imagine more hotels and restaurants in McCormick’s Creek. And all the businesses that would follow.
Ree had wanted to leave this ho-hum town behind for as long as she could remember, but she always pictured it waiting for her to come back and visit.
She should have known that the inn was only the beginning, but just how much did she want a change?
Chapter 25
Mitch leaned on the glossy white railing, shoulder to shoulder with Ree. The late evening sun warmed his arms, although the heat of the day was gone. The tables were beautifully set, and Billy Cunningham was working his magic in the kitchen. It was nice, before all the excitement started, just to listen to the crickets and stand close to this woman who was claiming his heart.
He was aware of her breathing, her unfocused eyes as she gazed across the road, the way her light perfume mixed gently with the roses below. For now, he wanted to stay just as they were.
“It’s a beautiful evening,” he finally said.
Ree nodded. “It got a little hot today—I hope your friends had fun mountain biking.”
Mitch shook his head as he thought about Judd and Carson, both criminal attorneys. “They’re adrenaline junkies, they couldn’t have anything but fun up here. But yeah, they’re cleaning off all the dirt and sweat as we speak.”
“Who else is coming?”
“Gwen and Mark Hernandez—she’s a state senator. And the Colemans and Meyers from Eugene.”
�
�Plus the travel writer from the Oregonian.”
Right, he’d better not forget about her. The other guests had influence, but Ms. Richards would reach people all over the state.
Twenty minutes later, the guests had all arrived, including the freshly-showered Carson and Judd. Ree introduced herself and welcomed them to the McCormick Inn. “Chef Cunningham has a delightful dinner prepared for you and then we’ll have a tour before dessert.” Ree said.
Enticing aromas came from the kitchen as Mitch held Senator Hernandez’s seat for her. This was going to be a perfect evening. He began to take his own, then stiffened as a cobalt-blue Ferrari pulled in. What was she doing here?
Melanie Xanthe eased out of the car and strolled confidently toward the group in the side garden. “So this is your quaint little town, Mitch. I didn’t realize it was so far off the beaten path.”
Of course she did, judging from her safari-chic khaki shorts and top; she just couldn’t help blasting her attitude about it. And he couldn’t have it out with her without making a scene in front of his other guests.
He glanced over at them. Judd grinned and Carson groaned. Ms. Richards and Mr. Meyer looked interested, and Ree rose from her table.
“I’m sorry, Mitch, I thought everyone was here,” she said stiffly.
“They were,” Mitch murmured, too low for anyone else to hear.
Ree extended her hand as Melanie made her way along the garden path. “Hello, and welcome to the McCormick Inn. I’m Ree Swanson, and it sounds like you already know Mitch.”
“So you’re the manager Mitch keeps talking about,” Melanie said. “He goes on and on about his pet project down here.”
Mitch bit back his retort. “Ree, this is Melanie Xanthe, my colleague and one of the best divorce attorneys in the state."
“I’m more than that, Mitch, and you know it,” Melanie said, her low voice sultry.
Mitch’s slow burn flamed higher. So much for her calm acceptance of their non-relationship.
He was glad to see Ree keep her composure, though. “Nice to meet you, Ms. Xanthe,” she said. “I’ll get another place laid for you.”
She slipped inside, and Mitch stared at Melanie. “You said you had plans this weekend.”
“And here I am." She laughed lightly and put her hand on his arm. “You’re quite handsome tonight,” she purred. “I’m not used to seeing you in short sleeves. You ought to do it more often.”
Mitch jerked his arm away. “What do you think you’re doing?” he growled, keeping his voice low. “You know this evening is important.”
“To you personally?” she laughed. “Or just to your little project here?”
“I swear, Melanie, you’d better behave like a decent human being, or I’ll stuff you in your car and drive you out myself.”
The corners of her mouth lifted. “Promise?”
Mitch grit his teeth.
“Oh come on, Mitch. I’m just having a little fun.”
“Fun is when it’s appreciated on both sides. This isn’t the time.” He took a deep breath. “Look, Melanie, we all know what you can do with that finely-honed tongue of yours, and I don’t want any of my guests cut down to three inches high. Just don’t. Please.”
Melanie sighed. “All right, since you asked nicely.” But she said it as she leaned against him, pressing against his body from thigh to shoulder.
And held the position until Ree returned and motioned her to her seat.
The stuffed mushrooms looked delectable as Chris placed them carefully in front of each guest. Mitch couldn’t ask for a more attentive waiter to set the standard for their reputation. He closed his eyes briefly, took a breath to ease the coiled spring inside him, then opened them again.
Drat, she was still there. How could she not be? Melanie hadn’t taken his earlier hints that he wanted to back off, and she obviously hadn’t taken him seriously after the Gala when he had flat out said he didn’t want to see her again.
And now here she was, primed to manipulate moments and people to get what she wanted, not caring in the least that the other guests were there for a reason. Flashes of animosity were already flying between her and Ree.
Mitch answered the senator’s question about the inn’s history, aware all the time of Ree’s rigid body. She carried on a smooth conversation herself, though, talking up the McCormick Inn and the town, while from the third table, Melanie’s low laugh somehow cut through conversations. What was so funny between her and his other two colleagues?
Then he caught a snippet and couldn’t help but listen more.
“Yes, Ms. Swanson seems to have done an admirable job here,” Melanie said, “especially being so young. Do you know when she finishes college?”
More laughter from the others, although Mitch could tell Carson’s wasn’t natural.
Melanie’s sigh was so loud even he heard it. “I just wish she could take more of the load—Mitch is down here so much that his duties as an attorney are being neglected.”
Mitch tried to hold back a snort and choked on his wine instead. At least it was better than spewing it all over the tablecloth. Or Senator Hernandez.
He pulled himself back to the guests at his own table. Chris cleared the appetizer plates away and brought out the entree—fragrant and enticing. Billy Cunningham was everything he had promised.
“So tell me about this new project of yours, Senator,” Mitch said, tuning out the conversation fragments from Melanie’s table. Ree, only a few feet away from him, continued to seethe.
They talked and ate and, finally, Ree stood. “While our chef puts the finishing touches on dessert, let me introduce you to the McCormick Inn.”
She led the way through the mansion, introducing rooms and pointing out original woodwork. Carson and Judd were with her, making jokes and flirting. A slow simmer of jealousy had Mitch heating up again—couldn’t they see he and Ree were together?
Probably not, not with Melanie hanging on his arm and monopolizing his attention. Or trying to.
He tamped down his feelings and turned to the Colemans. “One of our builders, Cat Billings, also does specialty woodwork. She did a beautiful job restoring the fireplace.”
They made appreciative noises and mentioned some friends who would love it there, while Ms. Richards took copious notes.
Ree led them upstairs toward the guest rooms. Mitch wanted to hear how she introduced them to the turret room, but Melanie held him back.
“Wait a minute. I need to talk to you, and the office wasn’t really the place.” She stroked his arm lightly. “We left things a little unsettled at the Black and White Ball.”
“No, we finished things there.” He glanced upstairs, but the group was out of sight.
“Ah, Mitch, is anything ever really finished? We’ve had some good times together—no reason to cut it off completely.”
Mitch pulled back. “You just don’t get it, do you, Melanie? All we ever had were casual dates, escorting one another to events. Anything else you might have felt was one-sided.”
She pouted, like a child, although he was sure that wasn’t the effect she was after. “I really thought you cared about me.”
He didn’t respond. Anything he said would just give her something else to spin.
She finally sighed and stepped back. “I had hoped it might grow into something more. I guess I was wrong.”
Mitch didn’t let his guard down. “I’m glad you finally realize that. I have no doubt that the right person will come along for you someday, but I’m not him.”
Melanie studied her glossy pink fingernails. “The inn is beautiful. I can see why you like to come down here.”
They spoke politely of plans for the B&B and the sculpture he wanted for his grandfather’s memorial. Mitch finally heard the others returning.
“Mitch?” Melanie grabbed his hand as footsteps started downstairs.
And suddenly she had pressed against him, her mouth all over his, her hands in his hair, on his back.
&n
bsp; Ree’s gasp blasted through his consciousness before he could pull away. Melanie didn’t unlatch easily, and Ree hurried through to the dining room.
“Stop it, just stop!” he growled, finally untangling himself from Melanie’s grasp. He needed to get to Ree. Now.
Melanie stepped back, a tiger’s smile on her cold face. “See you around, Mitch.” She blew him a kiss and stalked out the door.
Appalled. Dumbfounded. Mitch didn’t know what word to use, but his girlfriend had just caught him kissing someone else. Or at least that’s what she would think she saw.
“Geez, man, you sure know how to ruin something,” Carson said.
Mitch sagged against the wall. “You saw?”
“And heard. Why do you let her do that? She twists everything around the way she wants. I only just met Ree, but she’s worth ten of that piece of work.”
He was right—Ree was the best thing that had happened to him in a long time. And there was no way he was going to lose her over this.
“Take charge of the others, will you?” He pushed through the door to the kitchen. “Ree!”
Her hands were already elbow-deep in suds. Billy took one look at him and followed Chris out the door with the lava cakes.
Mitch put his hands on Ree’s shoulders, but she didn’t turn around, just kept scrubbing furiously at one spot on a pan. “It’s not what it looked like,” he assured her.
“I know.” Her voice was almost a whisper. “You said she’s—”
“She’s only a co-worker,” Mitch said determinedly, “a rather manipulative co-worker. She was kissing me.”
“I figured that’s what it was.” But Ree still wouldn’t turn around.
“Look at me, Sweetheart,” he said, gently pulling her to him.
She turned, hands dripping, and rested her forehead on his shoulder. “She’s everything I’m not.”
