Out of the Blue Bouquet (Crossroads Collection)

by Amanda Tru

  Dylan headed up the stairs. Brooke tried to keep up, but couldn’t resist flinging out, “Don’t you want me to get her name?” she asked, pointing back at the front desk with feigned innocence. “Just in case you want to send her flowers too?”

  Dylan shook his head, “Nah, I don’t really need her name. If I use Crossroads Floral, actual names and info don’t matter. They don’t pay attention to those things anyway.”

  Brooke rolled her eyes. Why did the man have to be so infuriating! Just once she’d like to get the best of him!

  They crested the stairs and entered a huge hallway lined with massive marble pillars. In the middle of the hallway was a set of large double doors. They headed toward the doors, but when they were still about ten feet away, the door suddenly opened.

  Dylan immediately dove behind one of the pillars.

  If he hadn’t been so very serious, it would have been hilarious to see him. Well, truth be told, Brooke still found it hilarious. He looked almost like a child afraid of being caught.

  Brooke calmly walked over to where he stood hiding.

  “Go ask one of the security guards,” Dylan instructed. “I’ll wait here.

  Brooke noted the sheen of sweat on his forehead and the ever-flickering lights in his eyes. He was scared!

  Suddenly feeling that she really did need to meet the woman who could instill this much fear into Dylan Masters, Brooke walked over to one of the police security who was ushering people out of the courtroom.

  “Excuse me,” she said politely. “I need to speak with Janice Thornton, and I was told you might be able to help me with that.”

  The guard nodded back toward the door. “Well, you could check with her, but I don’t know if she’ll see you without an appointment. She’s on recess right now, but Judge Thornton can be particular about those appointments.”

  Brooke froze as a woman in a black robe emerged from the courtroom. Dylan’s crazy ex was a judge?

  Still not actually breathing, Brooke’s feet propelled her forward of their own accord until she stood in front of a woman who looked like she belonged on the cover of a magazine rather than the center of a courtroom. Her lively brown eyes took Brooke in quickly and were framed by a beautiful mass of curly russet-colored hair. The black judge’s robe she wore served to emphasize the color in her hair and eyes. Though she was a couple of inches shorter than Brooke, she had a commanding presence about her that grabbed immediate attention and respect. In short, there was nothing about this woman that seemed the least bit crazy.

  Having a sudden ornery idea, Brooke deliberately turned and gave a ridiculous smile and wave at Dylan’s head peeking around the column. He popped his head back under cover, leaving Brooke completely satisfied that she had got Dylan’s goat, even a little. Unfortunately, that didn’t change at all what she had to do.

  Brooke turned back around as the black-clad woman emerged into the hall. Not sure what to do or what to say, Brooke, stepped directly in the judge’s path. When the other woman stepped to go around her, Brooke matched her movements, staying in front of her so she couldn’t get around.

  “Can I help you?” Judge Thornton asked, the annoyance in her voice clear.

  “I would like a few moments of your time,” Brooke said, managing to find her voice. “I’m from Crossroads Floral. I’d like to speak to you about a delivery—”

  “I’m sorry, I don’t have time,” the judge interrupted brusquely. “I am on a short recess. I’m sure you can leave a message with my assistant.”

  Successfully stepping around Brooke, she hurriedly strode down the hall.

  Feeling desperate, Brooke followed on her heels. “But Judge Thornton, you need to know that Dylan Masters did not send—”

  The judge whipped back around. “Did you say Dylan Masters?” As if she sensed his presence, her eyes scanned the area. “Is he here?”

  “Well, yes,” Brooke answered automatically. “He’s right over there behind that pillar.” The instant the words came from her mouth, Brooke realized what she’d done, but she didn’t really care much. If mentioning his name would allow her to complete her assignment, then so be it. It didn’t matter that she had just revealed his hiding place. A grown man shouldn’t need to hide from his ex-girlfriend. It would serve him right if he tasted a little embarrassment and had to talk to her.

  Sparks flew in Judge Thornton’s eyes. She turned on her spiky heels and whispered something out of Brooke’s hearing to one of the security guards. The guard then grabbed his buddy, and they both marched directly over to Dylan’s hiding place.

  To Brooke’s horror, they demanded he turn around, and then slipped a pair of handcuffs over his wrists!

  With a satisfied smile of pure glee, Janice Thornton led the way down the hall with Dylan and his escorts in tow.

  “Wait!” Brooke called, hurrying to catch up. Now Dylan had been arrested, and it was all her fault!

  “Thank you for your assistance,” the judge said formally as she walked swiftly down the hall. “This really doesn’t concern you. I will take things from here.”

  “But it does!” Brooke tried to explain, practically jogging to keep up with the judge’s quick steps. “I’m with him. I mean, he’s with me. I mean… I’m the reason he’s here! It was my mistake.”

  The judge’s feet slowed as she looked Brooke up and down as if assessing her for the first time. Stopping at athe door marked with her name, she unlocked it and gestured for the guards to take Dylan inside. “You’re with him?” she asked Brooke.

  Brooke nodded eagerly. She couldn’t let them take Dylan away. If that door shut without her, she had no idea what to do. Should she call a lawyer for Dylan or just camp out until someone gave her more information?

  “Fine,” the other woman said, her mouth puckering in a grimace. “You can come. But if you can’t keep quiet while I interrogate Mr. Masters, then I’ll have you taken down to lock-up until we are done.”

  Brooke nodded and followed the smaller woman into her chambers. The guards, obviously taking huge enjoyment from the fact that they’d just handcuffed Dylan and towed him into the judge’s chambers, quickly left, but not without sending a few exaggerated winks the judge’s direction.

  Confused, Brooke’s gaze swerved from the judge, to Dylan, and back again. Had Dylan really been arrested or not? The guards acted as if it was all one big joke, but both Dylan and the judge seemed so very serious. What was going on?

  A large desk dominated the center of the room with a backdrop of heavily laden bookcases on the wall behind. The only thing not typical about Judge Thornton’s chambers was the large arrangement of a dozen red roses in the center of the desk.

  The judge calmly walked around her desk and sat. “Have a seat, Dylan,” she said, almost pleasantly.

  “No, thank you, Janice. I’d rather stand,” he said calmly from his position standing at the wall beside the door.

  Janice. As soon as Dylan spoke her name, Brooke could no longer think of her as Judge Thornton. She was Janice, Dylan’s ex-girlfriend, and no black robe or judge’s chambers could change that.

  “I’d like to ask you a few questions,” Janice said, steepling her hands on the desk in front of her. “You see, I’m confused. You haven’t talked to me in months, then I get roses, and then the next day, you show up at the courthouse with your girlfriend.”

  “I’m not his girlfriend,” Brooke jumped in. “If you’ll just allow me to explain—”

  Janice silenced her with an uplifted palm. The glare she sent her direction clearly reiterated the threat she had made earlier. Brooke was to keep silent.

  “And your questions are?” Dylan asked, his tone bored.

  “Why didn’t you return my calls?” she asked

  “I wasn’t aware that you had called me,” Dylan answered simply.

  Janice’s eyes narrowed. “Did you block my number?”

  “Yes, I did.”

  Silence wrapped around the room for the beat of several seconds. Then
, Janice asked, “Why?”

  Dylan sighed. “Janice, we only dated for two weeks. I spent the next two weeks trying to break up with you. The last time we spoke, we ended on good terms, but I told you I wouldn’t be calling you anymore. That one good break-up was only after several bad ones. After that, I blocked and deleted your number. After breaking up with you repeatedly, I really didn’t want to have to do it all over again.”

  Brooke held her breath, waiting to see how Janice would respond. Part of Brooke felt awkward being here for this personal conversation, but another part was thoroughly captivated by the drama. It was like a soap opera, and though she felt it almost wrong to be avidly watching such a personal scene, she couldn’t bring herself to look away.

  Janice stood, and as if too warm, she shrugged out of her black robe and hung it on a hook behind her. The blue pantsuit she wore was stylish and not much less intimidating than the robe. But somehow, the way she spoke made her appearance seem a façade.

  Finally, she looked back up at Dylan, her tone soft and almost vulnerable. “Is that a good enough reason to sever the relationship entirely? Even without the romance, Dylan, we still had fun together.”

  “Janice, we can’t be friends. You always want more.” Dylan leaned his head back against the wall and shut his eyes, the frustration running off him like water. “This isn’t anything new, which is why I blocked your number. We already covered this in our last breakup. We’ve already said everything there is to say.”

  “Have we?” Janice said, keeping her manner vulnerable as she traced an invisible line on her desk.

  “Yes!” Dylan flung back. “You have repeatedly told me to get out of your life, which always seems to be about a day after you beg me to give us one more shot. Remember the time I refused to go out with you again, but then you showed up when I was eating lunch at the sandwich shop near my work as if you just happened to be in the neighborhood?”

  “Come on, Dylan. That’s how we are,” Janice said, her arms taking off in dramatic flights of expression as she paced around her desk. “Fire and ice. I never knew if your ‘no’ meant no, or if it was a prelude to something even better. We were good together. Why end it?”

  “My ‘no’ always meant no,” Dylan’s growled. “I stopped talking to you because we ended things well, and I wasn’t up for another round. I was tired of not knowing which Janice I was going to get.”

  Dylan’s manner of speaking left no glimmer of a doubt as to his feelings, at least in Brooke’s estimation. But the words that would devastate a rational woman didn’t even seem to faze Janice in the least.

  “Really?” Janice asked, raising her eyebrows as if in amusement. “I’m not sure you have enough evidence to back that statement up!” Casually, she sat on the corner of her desk and waved her hand in a welcoming gesture, as if he was free to present what she expected to be an amusing case.

  Dylan turned around and waved his fingers that were still firmly anchored in the handcuffs. “Exhibit A. The first time you see me in months, you have me handcuffed and taken to your chambers, where you proceed to question me and tell me how good we were together.”

  “What was I supposed to do when you wouldn’t talk to me?” Janice bit out fiercely, any trace of vulnerability gone. “If you hadn’t blocked my calls, then I wouldn’t have needed to handcuff you!”

  Suddenly stopping, she shut her eyes, took a deep cleansing breath in, then out. It very much looked like a rehearsed coping technique recommended by a therapist. Then, finally, she opened her eyes and spoke again, this time in a serene, almost sing-song voice “Dylan, looking at the evidence I have, you are the one who is unstable. If you don’t want me back, why send me roses with the same card you always sent, ‘You amaze me?’ But then, the very next day, you show up with your girlfriend?”

  “I’m not his girlfriend!” Brooke repeated emphatically. She could keep her mouth shut for all the drama, but drew the line at this. “In fact, I’m kinda the opposite. I’m like the president of the un-fan club for Dylan Masters.”

  With her eyes still locked on Dylan, Janice spoke. “I’m sorry. That title is already taken. By me. And it’s a lifetime appointment. We really are a small club, but with Dylan’s record, we’re growing very rapidly.”

  Dylan shook his head, letting out a sound that sounded like a mixture between a groan and a humorless laugh. “As Miss Hutchins over there has been trying to explain, the flowers were sent to you by accident. The florist mistakenly repeated some old orders, and yours was one of them.”

  “I can’t believe that,” Janice bit back, standing back up. Stepping toward Dylan, her tone softened. “Maybe it was technically an accident, but I don’t believe there is such a thing. Maybe this was meant to bring us together again. To talk.” She closed the distance between them, her face only stopping a few mere inches from his.

  Brooke’s eyes widened as Janice’s finger’s trailed a long caress down his face. In a soft, melodic voice that would make the Greek Sirens proud, she whispered, “And maybe something more.”

  With his back against the wall and his head straining away from her caress, he growled, “Janice, we’ve been over this. I am not interested in a relationship with you now or ever!”

  “Stop lying, Dylan!” Janice jerked back and literally stamped her foot in her sudden burst of anger. “I read the card. You don’t tell a woman she’s amazing and then turn your back on her the next day!”

  Dylan’s eyebrows raised as if he was considering her point. “Well, the card is still completely true. You amaze me. But not in a romantic way. You are an incredible judge and have achieved so much, but the person out of the courtroom is not the same as when you wear the robe for an audience.” Pausing, he looked directly at her. With slow, emphatic words, he said, “Janice, we aren’t meant to be together. You need to figure out who you are, and I can’t help you with that.”

  Once again returning to vulnerable Janice, she ventured almost shyly, “What if who I want to be includes you?”

  Pausing, she sidled up close to him again, this time reaching her arms around him to the handcuffs. With her arms embracing him, leaving no space between his body and hers, she fit the key in the lock of the cuffs, never taking her eyes off Dylan’s face. “I’m better with you than I am without. I know you care about me.”

  Brooke watched closely, expecting to see Dylan melt under the physical contact. After all, Janice was a beautiful woman.

  But the only muscle that moved was the one in his jaw, flexing with tension.

  “No, I don’t,” he said stoically, “I don’t care in the way you want me to. And I refuse to lead you on or pretend otherwise. Janice, find someone else.”

  Silence gripped the room. Janice’s face colored to about the same hue as the red roses on the desk behind her. Ripping the cuffs off Dylan, she threw them to the floor in a startling clang of metal. “How dare—”

  A knock sounded at the door.

  The transformation was immediate. Like a blanket had been thrown over her, the anger lines on Janice’s face vanished, and a calm light dawned in her eyes. With her face now perfectly pale and composed, she strode over and opened the door.

  “Judge Thornton, the court is just about ready for you.”

  “Thank you,” she replied serenely. “I’ll be right there.”

  Shutting the door and turning back around, she paused, her gaze moving from the bouquet of roses at the center of her desk, to where Dylan stood, massaging his wrists.

  “You didn’t send the flowers?” she asked.

  For the first time, Brooke detected a hint of pain in the question.

  “No, I did not,” Dylan replied, his voice completely devoid of emotion.

  Janice nodded her head. Averting her eyes, she walked over to where her robe was hanging behind her desk. Without another word, she slipped it on.

  While the drama had been difficult to watch, the silence was worse. For the moment, there was no anger, confusion, or manipulation, there wa
s only hurt.

  Brooke couldn’t take it. Dylan was rather comfortably unapologetic, but Brooke was not. While she considered Janice’s anger to be Dylan’s responsibility and the fault of their previous relationship, she considered Janice’s pain to be hers. If she hadn’t sent the roses by mistake, then Janice would have never felt the sting of knowing that they weren’t actually from Dylan.

  “Judge, Thornton, I am responsible for this situation, and I do apologize,” Brooke said into the silence. “I would really like to do something to make things up to you.”

  “What’s done is done,” Janice said, moving back toward the door. “There isn’t much you can do about it. You can’t rewind and make sure the flowers never came, and you can’t make Dylan Masters care. I’m not sure what else there is.”

  “Well, there’s revenge.”

  Brooke’s words instantly gained both Janice and Dylan’s attention. Janice paused, her hand on the doorknob.

  The judge’s mouth opened in a question, but stepping forward, Brooke hurried to explain, “This is my card for Crossroads Floral. My personal number is on the back. Maybe you were right when you said that the flowers didn’t come to you by accident. Because of all of this, you now know how Dylan feels and can get the closure you need to move on. You do need to forgive him, but when you recover and find that special someone, give me a call. We’ll send Dylan Masters a nice bouquet with a card that includes a picture of you with your new boyfriend and a message that says, ‘Look what you lost.’ It will be on the house, of course.”

  “An ‘in-your-face’ bouquet?” Janice said, accepting the card.

  “Precisely,” Brooke answered.

  Janice was quiet as she seemed to inspect every detail of Brooke’s business card. “I like it,” she said finally, tucking the card into a pocket in the folds of her robe. She then turned back to Dylan, as if measuring his reaction to their plan. But he wasn’t looking at her. Tracing his gaze, she found that, instead, he was looking at Brooke with an amused expression.

  “She’s never been your girlfriend?” Janice asked Dylan, indicating Brooke with a tilt of her head.