Hearts in Bloom

by Mae Nunn

  The kiss had proved to be an error in judgment, because he was definitely in the doghouse. Throughout his career he’d excelled at analyzing opponents. But then, they’d always been rational thinking men.

  As he admired the graceful curve of her figure, he was almost grateful this opponent was most definitely different.

  Jessica stepped through the front door and into the sales area. She’d expected a garage filled with greasy parts and broken-down cars, never imagining the mirrored, carpeted showroom. In this place a man could recapture the first automotive love of his youth and a woman could understand why he’d want to.

  A convertible beckoned her closer. Red! And magnificently restored.

  “She’s a beauty, isn’t she? A ’68 model.” Drew’s face reflected her appreciation of the car.

  Forgetting her earlier agitation, she smiled as she ran her hand across the polished trunk. As she stepped forward to investigate the interior, she noticed he nonchalantly whipped a soft bandanna out of his hip pocket. He wiped the finish, removing all traces of her touch.

  “In case you don’t remember, I recently sanitized my hands,” she reminded him.

  “Don’t take offense. Plenty of new clients don’t know it’s not cool to touch the paint. That’s why we have the signs.” He gestured to the framed poster by the door. The same message, Please Don’t Touch, was displayed on a windshield placard.

  “What’s the big deal?” She couldn’t imagine taking such care, even with her beloved Ruby. But, she had to admit, her lack of care was obvious.

  “These are concours cars. Meaning everything used in the restoration process is original right down to the last wing nut. Accomplishing that with a thirty-year-old vehicle requires a lot of hard work and money. Owners allow very limited contact with their vehicles.”

  “You mean I can’t touch it?”

  He swept open the door and removed the placard. “You, Miss Holliday, may touch to your heart’s content.”

  She rolled her eyes and eased herself behind the wheel. “I love the white interior,” she enthused, running her hand over the upholstered leather seat.

  “Parchment,” he corrected. “The color is called parchment.”

  She imagined herself racing toward Savannah for the weekend, hair flying, sun shining. She dismissed the brief, impossible vision and reached for her cane.

  More quickly this time, Drew was at her side offering his hand for support, which she accepted.

  “Ready to see the back?”

  “Sure,” she agreed, no longer expecting just another greasy garage.

  Drew passed through a heavy metal door and considerately held it aside. Her mild interest turned to full-blown respect. The walls were lined with floor-to-ceiling racks, filled with ancient parts. Everything from floor mats to fuel tanks appeared to be cleaned and categorized.

  She moved among the shelves, realizing the time and patience it must have taken to inventory so many items. Glancing toward the repair bays, she was impressed with the organization of materials and equipment. The painted concrete floor was swept clean and a pressure washer stood at the ready.

  “I never imagined a garage could be so tidy.” She gave the devil his due.

  Drew’s already broad chest swelled at the compliment.

  “Well, you know I believe in a place for everything and—”

  “Everything in its place.” She finished the platitude. “Yeah, you told me. Now I see why you leave early and come home late.”

  His head cocked slightly to the side. “You’ve noticed, huh?”

  “That diesel truck engine is pretty hard to ignore before daylight. It’s either you or a lost 18-wheeler.” She arched a blond eyebrow.

  They’d wandered back into the showroom. Drew produced a handful of change and dropped it into the soda machine. He stepped aside to let Jessica make a selection.

  She popped the top on her diet soda and enjoyed a long drink.

  “Well, what do you think?”

  “I think it’s all very impressive.” She took another sip.

  “It’s too bad you don’t make such a good first impression,” he said.

  Stunned by the insult, she inhaled some of the drink and began to choke, spewing cola atop the bits of melted chocolate on her overall bib. In an instant he was behind her, lifting her arms high over her head to help clear her windpipe.

  Finally able to breathe, she pulled her arms free and rammed an elbow into the hard abdomen pressed to her back. It didn’t have quite the painful impact she’d intended, but she was gifted with a small “whoosh” as Drew exhaled involuntarily.

  “What was that for?” He rubbed his middle.

  “I could ask you the same thing! What was that wisecrack about first impressions?”

  “I’m sorry. I’m afraid that didn’t come out like I’d planned.”

  She caught the word planned and something ugly started to take shape in her mind.

  “What I meant to say was your business would get off the ground faster if you could make a better first impression.”

  She glared at him.

  “That is, it would be nice if your work materials were more organized.”

  More glaring.

  “Help me out here, Jessica. You know what I’m trying to say.”

  She closed her eyes and turned away to calm herself. She was afraid she did know what he was trying to say. And it was becoming obvious the guy had set her up so he could say it.

  She turned to face him. “The message is loud and clear. You think I can’t impress clients unless I have a building full of inventoried supplies. You don’t believe people will give me a chance because I have stains on my clothes and dirt under my fingernails. Well, I happen to think that I clean up pretty nicely. And my work speaks for itself. You may have this big warehouse, but I have the gardens at Sacred Arms. My work was done without the help of a business partner and simultaneously with a demanding dance career. My reputation will win clients no matter what you think.”

  Drew reached out and laid a hand on Jessica’s arm. She dropped her eyes to the place he touched, but she didn’t pull away.

  “I’m sorry. Please, can we just back up a few minutes and start over?”

  She stood still, head down.

  He continued. “I know you’re determined to do everything on your own. And I also know how challenging it can be to recover from an injury. I understand that sometimes it’s hard to manage it all.” He paused. She could tell he was searching for the right words.

  “But the mess in the parking lot, the trail of stuff between your car and your front door, and the carts and wheelbarrows all around the compound really bother me. So I was trying, in my bumbling way, to show you how to improve things. I thought maybe if you saw what we’ve done with a greasy old garage you’d be inspired to find some commercial property. An acre or two with a small building is all you need.”

  While he spoke, she stood quietly listening.

  “Make a leap of faith, invest in yourself and trust that God is in control.”

  When she raised her head, she felt tears prick at her eyes.

  “If God is in control, He has certainly made a mess of my life. I’m not going to trust my future to anybody but myself, and I will have a place of my own someday. The fact is my savings are about to run out and I can’t afford anything like that until I generate some new income.”

  What a fool she’d been to polish her toenails and put on mascara, believing that a man was truly interested in her again. Well, she’d never let him know that.

  Kiss or no kiss.

  “And that’ll happen soon,” she insisted. “I just have to get the word out that I’m in business and then it’s only a matter of time and effort and a good growing season.”

  He nodded agreement.

  She turned her back to him. She swiped a quick hand through her hair and after a deep breath, faced him with a smile. It was the practiced expression she’d used during performances when her feet were
killing her. Most people never knew the difference.

  “Would you mind if we cut our tour short? I really have a lot to do this afternoon,” she lied. Her heavy plans included walking Frasier down to Grant Park and reading the latest issue of Georgia Living.

  “Well, there you two kids are.” A cheerful Hank Delgado walked toward them. “The guys told me you had a pretty customer interested in the red ’68.” He held out his right hand. “Welcome, Jessica.”

  “Hi, Hank.” She shook his hand briefly, glad for the interruption. “Sorry to disappoint you, but I’m just looking around. This is quite a place you have here.”

  “Thanks. Giving her the nickel tour, huh?” Hank asked Drew.

  Jessica thought she caught a conspiratorial look passing between them, but she ignored it, not wanting to overreact in light of what had just happened.

  “When’s your visitor coming?” Hank said, changing the subject.

  “Not for another week yet.”

  “Well, get out of here and enjoy this beautiful day before I put you to work.”

  “Do you need me? I feel guilty taking a day off. I can come back a little later.”

  “No way. You deserve the time to get settled. Go sort some socks or bleach something.”

  Jessica was drawn back over to the red convertible, and Hank followed. She stroked the canvas top, careful not to touch the shiny trunk.

  “It really is a beautiful car,” she said to herself.

  “It could only be more so with you behind the wheel.”

  She grinned at Hank’s sales pitch.

  Drew stepped closer.

  “I’m afraid I’m not in a position to even consider a car like this right now. Maybe I can have one like it in a few years, when I’m established in my second career.”

  “Second career?”

  “You remember, Jessica does all the landscaping at Sacred Arms. She’s hoping to get some additional clients soon.”

  “I’ve applied for a business license under the name Living Colors.” She shifted her gaze from Hank and looked pointedly at Drew. “With the gardens at Sacred Arms on my résumé, I don’t think I’ll have any trouble getting started.”

  “I bet you’re right. I took a good look around when I was helping Drew move, and you’ve done some nice work on that old piece of land. I remember all the local fuss when that rich developer Daniel Ellis bought the property and announced he was gonna remodel everything and sell it like town houses.

  “People got all bent out of shape over it. But the only reason the school was built on that property in the first place was because it was cheap. It failed because it was in the middle of nowhere, and it sat empty for all those years. Now everything’s been restored all around it and Ellis is a rich hero. But you’re the real hero, Jessica, for turning those worn-out grounds into pricey real estate.”

  She was touched and surprised by his speech. It was nice to know there were strangers who knew the history of Sacred Arms and valued what she’d accomplished.

  “Thank you, Hank. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate hearing that.”

  “How’d you get involved with that place anyway?” Hank crossed his arms over his chest and rested faded jeans against a nearby support beam.

  “I was one of the first homeowners there. That was almost four years ago and I really couldn’t afford the asking price. Valentine had taken me under her wing and wanted me to have the property so much she got the developer to give me a nice discount in return for my horticultural services. I don’t actually work for the complex, but I oversee the grounds maintenance and do the new planting myself. It’s only been a full-time effort since my professional dance career ended about six months ago.” She inclined her head toward her cane.

  Hank burst into hilarious laughter. He paused for a breath, smiling broadly at her.

  “I love a woman with a sense of humor. There are too many in this world who can’t poke a little fun at themselves like that. You, dancing.” He rolled his eyes at the image. “That’s a good one, Jessica.”

  “It’s no joke, Hank.” Drew stood behind her, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Before her accident she was with the Atlanta Dance Theater.”

  Hank sobered and jerked upright on both feet. “Well, now, I feel like a horse’s behind. I thought you were pulling my leg.” Discomfort was etched on his face.

  “It’s okay.” She took pity on the man. “I know it seems unlikely, seeing me today. I have changed a lot, but fortunately this is still the same.” She held up her grass-stained thumb with pride.

  Drew lightly squeezed her shoulder. She knew from their expressions that both men were silently thankful for the graceful way she had handled the gaffe.

  With one last glance around, she leaned tiredly on her cane and moved toward the door.

  “Good to see you again, Hank.” She stepped outside into the sunshine.

  “Hey, man, I’m so sorry,” Hank offered as soon as the door closed after her.

  “You just took up where I left off,” Drew said, exhaling his exasperation. He couldn’t feel worse. “I’ll fill you in later.” Drew stepped away and the door closed behind him, too.

  They were both buckled in. Before he started the engine he turned to Jessica, hoping to smooth over a rough morning.

  “Let’s head over to that landscape supply I was telling you about. I thought we’d have some lunch after that.”

  “Could I get a rain check on both? I really do have a full afternoon,” she said, too cheerfully.

  “Are you sure that’s what you want?”

  “I’m positive.”

  He’d been wrong. He could feel worse.

  Chapter Six

  Each time Jessica went to the parking lot to fill the wheelbarrow, the expensively dressed young woman who’d been standing in Drew’s bedroom window for the better part of two days watched every move. Compared to her preppy summer togs, Jessica’s functional work clothes felt shabby.

  Not that she was paying that much attention, but how could she help but notice someone practically stalking her!

  “This is crazy,” Jessica muttered.

  She hefted shovelfuls of pine bark, glad for the years of weight training that had developed strong arms and shoulders.

  “Why should I care one bit who’s staying at his house? If he wants to shack up with some woman, that’s his business.”

  Drew hadn’t spoken to her since their silent ride back from Jonesboro, but that was mostly by her own design. It had been pretty simple to figure out his schedule. An absurdly regimented guy, he was up at six, gone by seven and home in time for the evening news. And, predictably, he got up and went to church on Sunday morning.

  Avoiding him took only a little strategic planning. So far, she’d been able to coax Frasier to do his business at times that didn’t conflict with her neighbor’s comings and goings.

  Becky Jo had spoken with him. Jessica knew because she stood in the darkened laundry room with the blinds open at night and witnessed their occasional exchanges. Becky Jo always relayed his simple inquiries about her roommate with a romantic twist. Jessica should never have told her about the kiss.

  That kiss. Like a lovestruck schoolgirl, she’d relived it a hundred times. But it had only been part of a plan to get her to clean up her supplies.

  Hadn’t it?

  She looked around at the latest mess with satisfaction, wondering if he’d noticed. Or if he cared. The answer to that question was staring down on her.

  “Two can play at this game,” Jessica muttered.

  She turned, squinted upward, then smiled and waved broadly toward the windows. The brunette with the fashionably short haircut smiled and waved back, obviously pleased by the overture.

  As Jessica watched from below, the woman moved to the corner of the window and began cranking open one section of the louvers. Leaning down, she shouted through the opening.

  “Are you Jessica?”

  Stunned by the question, Jessica just stood, o
pen-mouthed, staring upward.

  “I said, are you Jessica? Andrew told me Jessica lives next door with a dog and carries a stick.”

  Andrew? Stick? This was getting more puzzling by the moment.

  “Yeah, that sounds like me.”

  “I’m not supposed to talk to anybody, but you’re Jessica. I think it’s okay to talk to you.” Her voice was soft and high, her words childlike.

  “Sure it is. What’s your name?”

  “I’m Faith. I’m visiting Andrew.”

  Jessica exhaled a silent “Oh,” unaware that she’d been holding her breath. Faith was Drew’s sister. He’d mentioned she still lived with their father, and now the reason suddenly dawned on Jessica.

  There’d been a national outpouring of sympathy for Senator Keegan years ago, after the tragic death of his wife. A drunk-driving accident had ended her life and left the senator’s only daughter with permanent head injuries.

  Jessica smiled at Faith. “Do you want to come over to see my dog? His name is Frasier and he loves company.”

  Jessica saw her nod at the invitation, but then look troubled.

  “I can’t. Andrew told me to stay inside and keep the door locked. He never likes it when I talk to strangers.”

  Of course the girl had been given safety instructions, but Jessica considered herself to be an exception. After all, he’d told Faith about her. Something inside did a small flip-flop at that realization.

  “Oh, sure you can. I’m not a stranger. I’ll call the shop and tell him you’re with me. Come on down and meet me at the front door.”

  Jessica left her load of pine bark where it sat and made her way inside the building. She’d knocked only once when the door opened to reveal a woman about her own age, with a trusting, open face and eyes the same chestnut-brown eyes as Drew’s.

  “You have a dog?”

  “I sure do. And it’s time for his walk. Would you like to go with us?”

  The excitement in her smile twisted Jessica’s heart into a knot.

  “First let’s get you out of those nice things. Do you have any old clothes with you?”

  Faith opened the door wide to let her new friend in and Jessica’s opinion of the brother, who was so protective of this girl, went up a notch.