What She Wants

by Sheila Roberts

  Kyle almost choked on his coffee. “Flowers?”

  “I work right next to you. Remember?”

  “Oh.” Jeez, working in this office was like living in a fishbowl.

  Mindy stabbed a tomato with her fork and casually examined it. “She’s going out with Ted Darrow.”

  “How do you know that?”

  Mindy gave him a pitying look. “Everyone knows.”

  Everyone but him. Yeah, he’d known Darrow was sniffing around, but... Mindy had to be wrong. Jillian would suck up to him a little, of course. She had to be nice to the bosses. But as far as going out with him, she had better taste than that. “He’s a jerk.”

  “He’s also one of the bosses and he drives a Jag.”

  Kyle set down his sandwich. “So, what are you saying exactly?”

  Mindy popped the tomato in her mouth and chewed, leaving him waiting for her sage observation. She swallowed. “I’m saying he’s one of the bosses and he drives a Jag.”

  “And the deck is stacked?”

  “Something like that.”

  “Pretty shallow if that’s all that matters to a woman,” Kyle muttered, glaring at his sandwich.

  “It’s not all that matters to every woman. Just some.”

  “Well, that’s dumb. People should look beyond superficial stuff like that.”

  “Do you practice what you preach?” Mindy asked.

  “You bet I do. I’m not shallow.”

  “Mmm,” she said, and took another bite of salad.

  After that she changed the subject and they chatted about their plans for the weekend. Kyle had to admit he didn’t have any for Saturday yet. But he had high hopes. He kept that to himself, however. Mindy was a skeptic.

  Once finished, they still had some time before they needed to return to the office. He could go outside, take a walk down the street, maybe run into Jillian. Maybe she hadn’t really gone to lunch with Darrow. Just because they’d left the office together, it didn’t mean they were together. Right?

  He claimed he had to run some errands and Mindy nodded. “Sure. See you back in Dilbert Land.”

  She left him and he sauntered outside. What now? Was he going to wander up and down Mission Street, peering in windows? That would look dumb. He opted for going to the drugstore. He needed...gum. He could walk partway down Mission and maybe casually run into Jillian that way.

  A couple of blocks down the street, he got his Jillian sighting. He was passing a new restaurant that offered casual dining when he spotted her at a small window table with Darrow, two plates of half-finished lunch between them.

  He couldn’t deny it any longer. Mindy was right; they were together. Kyle suddenly wanted to punch something. What did Jillian see in that jerk, anyway?

  Wait a minute. What was this? Was she crying? He slowed down to a stroll and did his best to appear inconspicuous as he peered inside. There she sat, dabbing her eyes with her napkin. Darrow looked as if he wished he were somewhere else. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what was going on. Darrow was dumping her. Poor kid.

  But she was well rid of him.

  Now she shook her head and stood so abruptly her chair almost fell. Off she dashed toward the interior of the restaurant, probably to the women’s room.

  Darrow frowned. He pulled out his wallet, removed a bill and threw it on the table. Still frowning, he looked out the window and happened to see Kyle looking back. The frown dipped lower. Kyle picked up his pace and kept on walking. Getting the stink eye from his superior was seriously uncool. But knowing the jerk was out of the running was worth a thousand stink eyes.

  Kyle got his pack of gum from the drugstore, then walked back to the office. Jillian was at her post again and, for once, she was alone. No one was hovering and the phone wasn’t ringing. Her eyes were red.

  But now she was about to find out what it was like to be loved by a real man. Kyle stopped at her desk. “You look like you’ve been crying. Everything okay?”

  “Some people are real assholes,” she said.

  Kyle blinked. His mother and sisters never said stuff like that, and hearing those words come out of Jillian’s pretty mouth was a shock. Women weren’t supposed to talk like men. They were supposed to be, well, better. But she was hurt. She was allowed. Anyway, it was true.

  “Yeah, they are,” he agreed. “Anytime you want a shoulder to cry on.”

  She managed a watery smile. “You’re sweet, Kyle. Thanks for caring.”

  Sweet. It was a good beginning.

  The phone rang, and that was the end of their conversation. But they didn’t need to say anything more. They had reached an understanding.

  And he had proof of it when he returned from his afternoon break to find a slip of paper with a feminine scrawl propped on his computer keyboard. “How about coming over for dinner Saturday night?” it read. Underneath that was Jillian’s address. Very coy. Yeah, he could do that.

  He was half tempted to show it to Mindy and crow a little. But he had the distinct impression that she didn’t like Jillian and the last thing he wanted was someone raining on his parade. She’d see how wrong she was once Jillian was taking her lunch breaks with him.

  He was in a good mood the rest of the afternoon. I’m king of the world. Well, if not the world, at least the office. He winked at Jillian when he left at five. She smiled back and gave him a flirty little wave as she talked on the phone. Man, oh, man. Life was good. He wouldn’t be at all surprised if he won the pot at poker tonight.

  * * *

  Adam was in a foul mood when the guys showed up for poker.

  “You still locked out?” Bernardo asked as they settled around Jonathan’s kitchen table.

  “Deal the cards,” Adam snapped.

  Vance nodded. “Still locked out.”

  “So, uh, the candy didn’t work, huh?” Kyle asked.

  “No, that went over even worse than the flowers.”

  “What kind of flowers did you get her?” Bernardo asked.

  Adam frowned and picked up his cards. “I dunno. Some arrangement with yellow flowers and daisies. They cost me a bundle. And she tossed them. She doesn’t like daisies,” he added sourly.

  “You should’ve gotten her favorite flower,” said Vance.

  Now Adam’s frown turned into a scowl. “Hell, who knows that kind of stuff?”

  “I do,” Bernardo said. “Anna likes tiger lilies.”

  “I thought all women liked roses,” Kyle said.

  “That’s usually a safe bet,” Bernardo agreed. “And a single red rose for no reason on her pillow? A man can score big with that.” He shoved a couple of cards across the table to Vance. “I’ll take two.” To Adam he said, “You know, you’re in deep shit, amigo. You’re gonna have to work hard to dig your way out. You have to court her all over again. Like the knight did in Wooing Willow.”

  Adam made a face. “Oh, man. Not another romance novel. Those aren’t working for me.”

  “It’s because you’re not paying attention,” Bernardo said.

  “I am, too,” Adam protested. “I got her flowers and candy, and went over to talk to her. The only thing I haven’t done is open a vein.”

  He was obviously too embarrassed to mention the Safeway sign. Jonathan had seen it and cringed. Something had gone wrong with that plan.

  “Ah, you’re pissed,” Bernardo said. “She can tell. She knows you just want everything back the way it was.”

  “Well, I do. What’s wrong with that?”

  “Uh, I don’t think she liked the way it was,” Jonathan said.

  “You’ve got to make her feel special,” Bernardo told him. “I’ll lend you a copy of that book.”

  “Is it a Vanessa Valentine one?” Jonathan asked. He should get it.

  “It is. Anna has all of them.”

  “Since when do you read romance novels?” Adam wanted to know.

  Bernardo grinned. “Since I saw how friendly my wife got after she read one.”

  Adam glared at
his cards. “Yeah, well, I’ve been reading, too, and so far it hasn’t done me any good.”

  Bernardo pointed a finger at Adam. “Stop reading with angry eyes. These books are written by women. That means what the men are saying and doing in them is what women want men to say and do. Lose your attitude and maybe you’ll learn something.”

  That made Adam scowl. The others ignored him.

  They went around the table twice, throwing out chips, seeing and raising, then Bernardo said, “Call,” and everyone showed their cards.

  Kyle was the winner. As he raked in his chips, he said, “I gotta tell you, those books are paying off for me.” Now he puffed out his chest. “Guess who’s got a date with Jillian tomorrow.”

  Jonathan could feel his eyes getting big. “Yeah? I thought she was hot for Ted Darrow.”

  “Was. You know they were actually an item? Anyway, the jerk dumped her, and old Kyle is around to help her pick up the pieces. She’s invited me over for dinner tomorrow.”

  “That was fast,” Jonathan observed.

  Kyle grinned. “I think it was the flowers that did it. But the clothes didn’t hurt.”

  Vance shook his head. “Your deal, Bernardo.”

  * * *

  All it took was another night on the blow-up mattress in Jonathan’s spare room to convince Adam he needed to borrow that novel from Bernardo. Saturday morning found him in Bernardo’s orchard, walking between rows of trees with Pink Lady apples dangling from them like summer ornaments.

  At the sight of him, Bernardo pushed back his straw hat and grinned knowingly. “So, you decided to get smart, eh?”

  Adam frowned. Sometimes Bernardo was an irritating know-it-all.

  The know-it-all didn’t wait for him to acknowledge his inferiority. Instead, he led the way from the orchard to his house, a snug two-story farmhouse, complete with a garden off to the side and rockers on the front porch.

  Once inside Adam could smell the remains of breakfast—coffee and a hint of cinnamon. And that reminded him of his wife’s cinnamon rolls. From somewhere at the back of the house he could hear Bernardo’s wife, Anna, singing.

  “You know why she’s singing?” Bernardo asked. Then, without waiting for an answer, he said, “Because she has me.”

  Gag. “Just give me the book, smart guy,” Adam said.

  “Anna,” Bernardo called, and then rattled off a bunch of Spanish Adam couldn’t understand. Probably, “The stupid gringo is here.”

  A moment later, his wife came down the hall. She was a little slip of a thing with high cheekbones and full lips and midnight-black hair sparkling with strands of gray.

  “Hola, Adam,” she greeted him. “So you want to borrow my favorite Vanessa Valentine book.”

  “I promise I won’t lose it.”

  She smiled at him and patted his arm. “You read this book, and it will help you learn how to treat your wife well.”

  How much had Bernardo told her? “I treated her okay.” Even as he said it Adam knew he sounded like a fake.

  She didn’t say anything, just exchanged a knowing look with her husband. Then she ran up the stairs.

  Adam stood in the hallway with Bernardo, feeling awkward. He rubbed the back of his neck where the muscles seemed to be constantly knotted. “I wasn’t that bad a husband.”

  Bernardo chuckled. “You weren’t that good a husband, either, amigo.”

  Now his wife was back. She handed Adam a book. The cover showed a couple dressed in the clothes of another era, a time when the only thing a man could drive was a carriage. They were in a garden and he was kneeling at her feet and kissing her hand. Whipped. The man was whipped.

  “Chivalry,” Bernardo said as if he could read Adam’s mind. “These days we take our women for granted. Back then, aah, a woman was a treasure to be won and cherished.” His wife was next to him now and he put an arm around her shoulders. “Your wife, she is your best friend, sí? It’s important to show her that. Right, querida?”

  She put a hand to his cheek and looked at him like he was Antonio Banderas instead of a short, middle-aged man with a gut.

  Bernardo wasn’t rich and he sure wasn’t handsome, but Adam felt the sting of jealousy. “Thanks for the book,” he said, and got out of there.

  It was warm and sunny, a perfect day to do some fishing in Icicle Creek. Instead, Adam picked up a sandwich and some bottled tea at Safeway and settled in a secluded spot on the bank. Then he opened the book and began to read.

  He found himself shaking his head frequently. Why did the hero even want this woman? Yeah, she was beautiful and she was hot for him, but her family wanted her to marry someone else, and it seemed that every time they were together all she did was argue with him. Rather like Chelsea, he realized.

  The man didn’t give up, though. Even back then, it seemed flowers were the way to a woman’s heart. You tried that, Adam told himself.

  But how hard had he tried? He’d ordered a floral arrangement but had let another man choose the flowers. The dude in this book had gone on a search for the woman’s favorite flower. And when he took it to her, he’d been...humble.

  Adam had to admit he hadn’t exactly been humble in his approach to Chelsea. He’d been pissed off and demanding. Still, who wouldn’t be after getting locked out of his own house?

  He shut the book and glared at the cover. Was that what he was going to have to do—get on his knees and beg? Obviously, it was. Was he willing to do that? He thought of how much he missed his wife, missed her smile, missed making love to her. Yeah, he was more than willing.

  So, his first mission would be to figure out what kind of flowers she liked. He hiked back to his SUV and cruised past the house. Her car wasn’t there, so she’d probably been on the schedule to work at the nursery. The predator next door was mowing his lawn. He nodded at Adam.

  Great. All Adam needed was for that tool to see him taking pictures of his own house. He pulled out his cell phone and pretended to take a call. The minute Dennis turned and started mowing in the other direction, Adam snapped a quick picture. Then he drove off. Just a disenfranchised husband, stopping to pay a social call. Humiliating.

  His next stop was Lupine Floral. He entered as a middle-aged man was ringing up a sale for Blake Preston, the bank manager. The man behind the counter gave Adam the sort of pleasant greeting one would give a stranger. No surprise, since he was a stranger. He and Chelsea had lived here for five years, and other than his desperate phone call a few days ago he’d never once ordered flowers for her. This hadn’t bothered him before today.

  “Thanks, Heinrich,” Preston said. “Sam’s going to love these.”

  “Flowers and a trip to Hawaii.” The man—Heinrich—smiled. “That’s some birthday celebration.”

  “She’s some woman.” Preston smiled.

  Adam found himself wondering when he’d last talked to someone about his wife like that. Man, it had been way too long. He was a skunk. He nodded and said a brief hello to Preston as he left the shop, then walked over to the counter.

  “What can I do for you?” Heinrich asked.

  He remembered the knight in Wooing Willow finding one perfect rose to give his lady. “I need a flower.” Boy, that sounded cheap.

  But it didn’t faze the man behind the counter. “What kind?”

  Adam brought up the picture on his phone. “What kind are these?” They weren’t in bloom yet, but she had a bunch of them. Obviously, she liked them. Hopefully the florist had some kicking around that looked like flowers instead of big green stalks.

  “Ah, stargazer lilies.”

  “That’s what I want,” Adam said.

  “Good choice. They have a wonderful fragrance.”

  Adam didn’t care about the flower’s fragrance. He only hoped that when Chelsea saw his floral offering, it would put her in a forgiving mood.

  He didn’t stop with the flower. He went to Johnson’s Drugs and picked up a pad of paper. Writing a note to his wife was going to be harder than any term
paper he’d ever written.

  It wasn’t as if he’d never told her he loved her. He had. He’d told her on their first date. He’d taken her out to dinner and then to an improv comedy club in Seattle and they’d laughed their asses off. He’d known that first night she was the one for him. She hadn’t believed him when he said he loved her, accused him of trying to get her to sleep with him on the first date. When he proposed, he’d taken her to Canlis, one of the priciest restaurants in Seattle, and come dessert he’d pulled out a diamond ring and told her again that he loved her. That time she’d believed him.

  He needed her to believe him again, needed her to know he meant business, that he was going to do whatever it took to get back together.

  Once more, he drove to the water where he could think. After half a tablet of paper and two hours of soul-searching, he was making progress. He read what he’d written so far.

  “Chelsea baby, I finally get why you’re pissed at me. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking” (and a lot of reading, but no way was he going to confess that he’d been reading romance novels—she’d never let him live it down) “and the more I think about how I’ve taken you for granted, the worse I feel. I’m sorry. Not just let-me-come-back sorry, but really sorry.”

  What to say now? He rubbed his chin. Hell, get down on your knees. For once in your life, act like a knight.

  He cracked his heart the rest of the way open and wrote. “You mean everything to me. You really do. I’m asking you to give me a second chance. I know I don’t deserve it, but please give it to me, anyway. I can change. Call me. Tell me you’ll see me. I love you. Adam.”

  Did Chelsea think he could change? He’d soon find out.

  He returned to his SUV. Now he’d drive over to the house, leave this note and Chelsea’s favorite flower and...what the hell was wrong with this flower? He picked it up from the front seat. It looked as sad and droopy as he felt. Hot car interiors and flowers obviously didn’t go together well.

  He let out a frustrated sigh. Like it or not, he was going back to Lupine Floral.

  The same man was there, chatting with an older woman with red hair. She looked vaguely familiar but he couldn’t recall where he’d seen her. Between them on the counter sat a fat arrangement of flowers in white and pale green. “The color is perfect for you,” the man said.