Seized By Love

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Seized By Love Page 23

by Melissa Foster


  She led him into a parlor that reminded Blue of his grandmother’s house. An Oriental rug covered dark hardwood floors, and the furniture looked as if it had been there for thirty years, though it was not frayed or marred in any way, simply dated. The sofa was covered with a burgundy and cream striped fabric, and the cranberry-colored wing chairs were patterned with diamonds. An antique china cabinet stood in the corner of the room, and an old-fashioned wooden desk sat between two large windows on the far wall.

  “I’ll go get my husband. Please excuse me for a moment.” Mrs. Barber walked down the hall, and he heard her ascending the wooden stairs he’d seen from the foyer.

  Blue noted the literature on the coffee table, Inns of Cape Cod and Gardens of New England. He tried to imagine Lizzie growing up in this house and what it might have been like for her. His house had always been loud and busy, a stark contrast to the silence of the inn. Then again, there weren’t six children running around the inn. His parents’ home tended to be quieter now, too, although their house still vibrated with the energy of the rambunctious Ryder family even when they weren’t all there.

  He turned at the sound of heavy footsteps approaching. At six three, Blue had about an inch on Lizzie’s father. Wearing a blue and white striped button-down and tie, with cropped brown hair that was graying around the temples, Mr. Barber looked more like a city businessman than a man who ran a cozy inn. Nonetheless, the middle-aged man had a commanding presence, with perfect posture, wide, square shoulders, a thick barrel chest, and dark eyes.

  “I’m Vernon Barber. My wife tells me that you’re Lizzie’s boyfriend?” He lifted his chin and looked down his nose at Blue. The vee between his brows was so deeply set, Blue thought it might be ever present and not simply caused by his surprise visit. His stern lines contrasted with his wife’s softer presence in her jeans and a pretty knit top.

  “Yes, sir. Blue Ryder. It’s a pleasure to meet you, and thank you for taking the time to speak with me.” Blue shook his hand, not at all surprised by the firmness of the man’s grip.

  Vernon motioned toward a chair. “Please, have a seat.”

  “Can I get you something to drink?” his wife asked.

  “No, thank you, Mrs. Barber. This will only take a few minutes.” Blue sat in a wing chair as they settled into the sofa across from him.

  “Margaret and Vernon, please,” she said with a kind smile.

  Blue’s eyes caught on the bookshelves behind the sofa, and he realized that he hadn’t seen a single family photo. His family had photos on nearly every wall. He reminded himself this was their place of business as well as their residence, which gave him a mild sense of understanding even though his father and siblings had plenty of family photos even at their offices.

  “How is my daughter?” Vernon crossed one ankle over his knee and leaned back with his hands folded neatly in his lap.

  His use of my daughter rubbed Blue the wrong way. It felt like he was distancing himself from her.

  “Lizzie is doing well, despite the issues between the two of you.” Blue paused, waiting for a reaction, knowing he was plowing in like a bulldozer, but he had a feeling that was what this man needed. “She’s one of the strongest women I know.”

  Margaret smiled and sat up a little straighter. Vernon’s facial expression remained unchanged as he nodded in acknowledgment.

  “Lizzie has always been very strong-willed,” Margaret said.

  Maybe that shouldn’t bother him, but it did. Strong-willed was different from strong. He was beginning to understand what Lizzie had grown up with and what she was currently up against, and it only endeared her toward him more. She was even stronger than he’d imagined.

  “I realize that you don’t know me, and maybe it’s not my place to speak for Lizzie, but I am in love with her, and I’m hoping we can find a way to bridge the gap that’s come between you.” Blue hadn’t planned on going there with this conversation. He’d planned on simply trying to make peace with her father and to get him to understand what a generous person and skilled businesswoman his daughter was, and that she didn’t deserve to be dismissed by him. But Blue didn’t work that way. He’d always been led by his heart, and this was no different.

  “Blue, I don’t think this is a conversation I want to have with you.” Vernon rose to his feet and looked down at his wife, who pressed her lips together and remained seated. “Margaret?”

  “I want to hear what he has to say,” she said as she reached for his hand. “And I wish you would, too.”

  Vernon crossed his arms over his chest as Blue rose to his feet and met the formidable man eye to eye.

  “Thank you, Margaret,” Blue said gently before turning his full attention to Vernon. “Sir, I don’t have a daughter and can’t claim to know what it would feel like to know that my daughter hosted a show like the one Lizzie does.” He felt the need to say the name of the show, to show her father that he wasn’t bothered or embarrassed by it. “But my girlfriend, your daughter, a woman whom I adore, a woman whom I never imagined would do something like this, is in fact the Naked Baker.”

  “And you apparently have no issues with that.” Vernon’s voice was dead calm and clearly meant to be intimidating. “You’re probably one of those guys who watches that show, along with a dozen of other pornographic shows on the Internet.”

  Blue’s eyes never wavered from his. “I see your ability to misjudge is not restricted to family members.” He wasn’t about to defend himself to this man. He had tunnel vision—clear the way for a reconciliation for Lizzie—and it was obviously going to be an uphill battle. But Blue wasn’t one to give up. He had to believe that if Margaret had stayed with this man all these years, he must have some redeeming qualities as a father and as a husband, and Blue hoped to unearth at least some of them.

  When her father didn’t react to his comment, Blue continued speaking. “I wonder, Vernon, are you aware of what your daughter does besides this webcast?”

  “She’s a florist,” he said with an air of boredom.

  “And?” Blue cocked a brow at his brief, cold answer. He could tell by the way Margaret was fidgeting in the same fashion Lizzie did when she was nervous that she was biting back a response. Or maybe suppressing the desire to nudge her husband into saying more.

  “Let me share with you what I’ve learned about Lizzie,” Blue said proudly. “Did you know that after working a ten-to-twelve-hour day at the flower shop—the flower shop that she managed to open and run successfully on her own—she takes flowers to the cemetery and leaves them on the headstones of people whose graves go untended?” He noted the quizzical look in her father’s eyes and softened his tone. “Sometimes she takes them to the assisted-living facility, or the firehouse, or the police station. She’s also been known to hand flowers out to strangers as they pass by the shop after hours.”

  Blue shifted his eyes to her mother. “And did you know that the things she bakes for her show go to the homeless shelter? That’s right, at six thirty in the morning, with a full day ahead of her, she takes it upon herself to deliver the freshly baked goods to those who need them.”

  “I didn’t know that,” her mother said wistfully.

  When her father still didn’t respond, Blue said, “And the show she’s created? She works on that late at night most days, after she’s gone to the homeless shelter, worked a long day at her flower shop, and delivered flowers to whomever she thinks needs them the most.” In an instant, Blue decided not to try to explain to Lizzie’s parents how successful her webcast had become or that she was in talks with a major network to sell the rights. He didn’t get the sense that her success made a difference one way or another, and who Lizzie was had nothing to do with her success. If her father couldn’t see how caring, how selfless, and how incredibly generous his daughter was, it was his loss.

  To his surprise, Vernon’s shoulders dropped a hair. If Blue hadn’t been watching for clues of the man softening, he might have missed it.

  “Lizz
ie is a hell of a businesswoman, but more importantly, she’s the most generous person I know.” Blue slid his hands casually into his pockets and shrugged.

  “I just thought you should know, and I’m sure you already know that the money she earns from the webcast goes directly to Maddy’s school expenses. She doesn’t keep a penny for herself, even though that means she pays a higher tax rate on her earnings from the flower shop.”

  He held a hand out to shake Vernon’s, and Vernon’s mouth opened, as if he was going to say something, but as Blue shook his hand, the man remained silent.

  This conversation is nowhere near over.

  Blue kept his thoughts to himself as he took Margaret’s hand between his and thanked her for taking the time to speak with him. He took a step toward the door, unsure if he’d made a difference or not, and before walking into the foyer he said, “Thank you for raising such an amazing daughter. She was so determined to put her own social life aside in order to fully concentrate on earning enough for Maddy’s education that she refused to go out with me for an entire year—what she didn’t know was that I would have waited ten, if that’s what she needed to feel safe.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  SKY WHOOSHED THROUGH the front doors of P-town Petals carrying bags from Wild Rice, a clothing shop at the west end of Commercial Street. It was a pricey shop, with dressier clothing than Sky typically wore, and as Lizzie came around the counter to greet her, she wondered where Sky was going to need to wear something so special.

  “Dinner with Sawyer’s parents?” she guessed.

  “Ha! Hardly. These are for you, girlfriend.” Sky plopped the bags on the counter and began rummaging through them. “I knew you wouldn’t have time to shop for an appropriate outfit before going to your big meeting in New York. And let’s face it”—Sky ran her eyes down Lizzie’s P-town Petals T-shirt and jeans—“Cape Cod attire is not exactly big-city appropriate.”

  Sky pulled out the prettiest navy blue skirt and white blouse Lizzie had ever seen. It looked more professional than anything she had ever owned.

  “You didn’t have to do that.” Lizzie couldn’t help running her fingers over the silk blouse.

  Sky put it in her hands and then withdrew a pair of nude-colored heels and a cute pair of earrings to top it all off.

  “I don’t know what to say.” Lizzie was completely befuddled. No one had bought her clothes in years. Sky had lived in New York before returning to the Cape a few years ago. If anyone could pick out the perfect outfit for a meeting this important, it was Sky. Her style was more relaxed, like Lizzie’s, but she’d struck the perfect balance between professional and casual. Lizzie knew she’d feel like a million bucks in the outfit.

  “Don’t say anything. Just try it all on.” Sky ushered her toward the bathroom in the back of the shop and waited outside the door. “I’ll watch the store while you tell me how things are going with Blue. I talked to him this morning, and he had that fully sated sound to him.”

  Lizzy laughed. “He’s definitely satiating,” she said through the door as she admired the outfit in the mirror. “This is so pretty, but, Sky?” She opened the door and turned so Sky could assess the outfit. “Do I look as much like a fish out of water as I feel?”

  “Girl, you look like the only fish in the water. Gorgeous. You’ll knock ’em dead.”

  “You really think so? I feel like I’m playing dress up. I’d much rather go wearing my jeans and Petals shirt—not that that’s an option, but still.”

  Sky turned her by the shoulders so she was facing the mirror. “Repeat after me.”

  Lizzie put on a serious face. “Okay. This is good. I need to practice, because I’m wicked nervous.”

  Sky smiled at her in the mirror. “Okay, ready?” When Lizzie nodded, Sky said, “Hi. I’m Lizzie Barber, the queen of naked baking.”

  Laughter burst from Lizzie’s lips. “Totally not helping. But the outfit? Sheer perfection. You can still hold on to your best friend nomination.”

  Lizzie changed back into her jeans as Sky filled her in on what to expect in New York: how busy the subways were, how to flag down a taxi, the fast pace of the city. Lizzie hadn’t given much thought to those things. She was nervous enough about the idea of talking about her show to people she didn’t know.

  “Blue said he’s going with you, so you’ll be fine.”

  “He is, but not to the meeting, just to New York. I really want to do this alone. Even though he is totally supportive, I think I’d be more nervous with him in the room, and besides, it’ll give him a chance to catch up with his family. We’re actually staying with his parents Friday night, then coming back Saturday morning.”

  “He’s so proud of you, Lizzie. He’s sure you’re going to sew this up and get an offer. How do you feel about it?” Lizzie hung the outfit on the coatrack, and Sky followed her through the store as Lizzie rearranged a few plants.

  She smiled as she turned to face her friend. “I can hardly believe that I might actually be able to have a normal life again. It’s been so many years since I’ve had evenings free that I’m not sure what I’ll do with the time. But I’m already imagining walks along the beach with Blue, bonfires with you and everyone else.” She bit her lower lip to trap in her excitement.

  “Blue said you work almost every night on the show. I had no idea it was so consuming, and I really have no idea how you bounce around here all day with endless energy when you’re doing so much.”

  “My schedule is crazy, but I’m used to it. I do everything for the show at night. I film twice a week, then edit twice a week. When the shows air for the first time, I watch the beginning to make sure there aren’t any glitches, and then I take Sundays off.”

  Sky followed her back to the refrigerated section, where Lizzie took out the wilting flowers that she’d give away this evening.

  “No wonder you hardly ever go out with me when I ask. This will be life changing if it comes through.” Sky watched her putting the flowers in her tote.

  “I know. I can hardly stand it, I’m so excited. And I’m also really nervous about meeting his parents, so it’s going to be a nerve-racking few days.”

  “You’ll love his family. I’ve only met his brothers, but they’re all so down-to-earth. I’m sure his parents are wonderful, too.”

  “I’m a little nervous about them finding out about the show. Look at how my dad reacted.” Lizzie leaned against the counter. She’d been trying not to think about how much it hurt that her father could push her aside so easily, but sometimes, like now, the ache was inescapable.

  Sky embraced her. “Don’t worry. Your father loves you too much not to come around.” She pulled back and said, “That’s why he’s acting like this, you know. That’s why he’s always been so protective of you and Maddy. He loves you two so much he doesn’t know what else to do. Sort of like the way my brothers have always been so overprotective of me.”

  “I hope you’re right, because if this deal doesn’t come through, I have two more years as the Naked Baker, and I’m not going to leave Maddy hanging just to appease my father—no matter how much I love him.”

  “Speaking of love…” Sky smiled and arched a brow.

  Lizzie grinned.

  Sky squealed. “I knew it! I’m so happy for you!” She threw her arms around Lizzie, and they both laughed.

  “Blue’s already changed my life in so many ways, and even though he was jealous at first, I kind of like knowing that. I think it would have been weird if he didn’t feel funny about me doing the show. I definitely wouldn’t want him prancing around in nearly nothing for women—online or offline.” Lizzie sighed. “I can’t imagine my life without him, and to be honest, I can’t even imagine a night without him anymore.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  THERE WAS SO much adrenaline coursing through Lizzie Friday morning when she arrived in New York City that she was surprised she hadn’t bounced out of her seat on the airplane. She’d practiced what she was going to sa
y in the meeting at least a hundred times, and by the time the cab pulled up in front of the Food Channel Network’s building in Manhattan, Lizzie’s stomach was doing somersaults.

  How could she have thought she could handle this? The conversation with Duke last night had made her more anxious, even though he’d confirmed that she had all her ducks in a row and the proposal looked perfect. What he’d said about Carly Christianson, the woman heading up the acquisition department for FCN, wasn’t nearly as comforting. She’s a real ballbuster. Be ready to negotiate as if your life depends on it. She’ll try to lowball you, and if she does that, very politely thank her for her time, tell her the meeting is over, and get up and walk out without looking back.

  How on earth was she supposed to do that? She had a feeling she’d be fighting to remember how to breathe.

  Blue stood protectively between Lizzie and the passersby as she stepped from the cab onto the busy sidewalk. She’d never been to New York, and she was amazed at the sheer number of people on the sidewalks and the constant honking of car horns. When she looked up, the height of the buildings made her dizzy. She clung to Blue with one hand, clutching the strap of her messenger bag with the other.

  “You look gorgeous, and your proposal is perfect. You’re going to do great,” Blue reassured her.

  “You’re sure I won’t look too out of place? Like a beach girl trying to be a city girl?”

  Blue’s eyes heated as he stepped in closer, and that made her stomach quiver in a better way. “You’ll always be my beach girl, but I think you’ve proven that it doesn’t matter what clothes you wear. You have a brain that’s sharper than anyone’s in that building. You’ve created two businesses by yourself. Don’t you forget that, babe. No matter what they say, this is all you. You make the decisions. If they play around, take Duke’s advice and get out with your chin held up high. They need you more than you need them.”

 

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