by Tara Randel
“Hi. I’m Kady Lawrence,” she said, holding out her hand.
“Christine Wallace.”
As they shook, Kady observed her newest recruit. Shoulder-length curly blond hair, sparkling blue eyes and a megawatt smile. Average height. The girl-next-door look customers would respond to.
Kady got right down to business. “You know this is a sales position?”
“Yes. I’ve worked in retail, so I’m aware of how to engage customers. I’ll work hard to represent your business and help increase productivity.”
Okay, finally someone who understood. But by her word choices, Kady got the impression Christine had done far more than sales. Was she too good to be true? “What kind of other relevant experience do you have?”
Christine rattled off her management and office skills from time spent with respectable companies.
“I have to ask, why this job? You’re overqualified.”
“I just moved to the area. To be honest, I’ve done my time in the nine-to-five grind and I want a change. I love Cypress Pointe and plan on settling here. This job would be perfect for what I have in mind.” She grinned. “And I like flowers.”
“Perfect answer.” On instinct, Kady made a quick but firm decision. “How soon can you start?”
Christine blinked. “That was fast. And I can start as soon as you want.”
“I have a good feeling about you.” She paused and bit her lower lip. “There is one thing.”
“Okay.”
“My parents are a bit...challenging to work with. They’re very picky about the shop. I feel it’s only right I give you a heads-up.”
Christine seemed to consider Kady’s words. “I’ve worked with a variety of...shall we say, temperamental bosses in the past. I’ll be fine.”
Kady let out a breath. “Great. That said, my folks are leaving on a cruise and I’ll be attending a florists’ convention here locally, so I’ll be in and out of the shop. Think you can handle it?”
“Absolutely.”
“My older brother will be around, too. He doesn’t work here, but pops by occasionally. I’ll make sure you meet him and he can get the info he needs for his bookkeeping. During the convention, I’ll be in early in the mornings to complete orders before attending the workshops.
“But for today, let’s go over your duties and I’ll give you a rundown of the shop.” Kady smiled. “Welcome to The Lavish Lily.”
* * *
ON WEDNESDAY AFTERNOON, Kady stepped away from the registration table at the Grand Cypress Hotel, her convention packet in hand. She looped her name tag, which was attached to a lanyard, around her neck. The buzz in the hotel lobby ramped up the energy level as people checked in and caught up with old friends. A poster, propped on an easel right inside the front door, announced the upcoming floral competitions in which Kady was already registered. After her parents’ bombshell several days earlier, she had to make the most of this conference, which meant winning the wedding-bouquet category.
To her relief, Christine had taken to the job immediately, easing any concerns Kady had about leaving her new employee alone at the shop for a few hours without Kady there to guide her. Will promised to stop by and check up on things sometime during the day. While she was glad he was on her side for once, she could tell something was off. He was distracted and edgy. More so than usual. She thought about asking what was up, but then she doubted he’d confide in her anyway. They hadn’t been close for a long time, not since he opened his own accounting office and she finally stopped wandering around trying to find aim in her life. Do-no-wrong Will could take care of himself, as he’d always done. Without her.
Groups of attendees mingled in the huge lobby, excited chatter echoing off the marble floors. For the next several days, anything and everything floral-related would be focused upon within these walls.
In the years Kady had been attending the conference, it had always been located in different cities in Florida. When it was announced that this year’s event would be held right here in Cypress Pointe, Kady couldn’t believe her luck. On her home turf, maybe she could beat the reigning queen of wedding bouquets and finally win first place.
She waved to a few women she knew as she moved to a quiet corner of the lobby to take a seat and go over the itinerary. Scanning the workshop schedule, she discovered the next few days were packed with all sorts of interesting topics. This year, organizers added actual hands-on workshops for newbies to experience floral designing. Interesting. The welcoming reception was tonight and the awards ceremony would cap off the convention on Sunday evening. At each previous convention, she’d held her breath at the ceremony, waiting to hear her place in the competition. And each year, she’d missed out on being number one.
She had three days to worry about her entry. This year, the competition held an extra perk, thanks to a new feature the convention committee developed. All day Sunday, the entrants in different wedding categories would display their floral designs to the public, specifically targeting brides-to-be. The open house had been publicized around town and all over the Tampa Bay area, in order to lure prospective brides to the showcase. That meant a day’s worth of publicity for The Lavish Lily. Kady would be able to show off her bouquet entry, as well as connect with potential customers she needed to grow her wedding business.
Her drawings were hidden away in her apartment. The flowers she’d ordered would be delivered by her wholesaler early Sunday morning, ensuring her entry would be fresh for display. She’d established a contingency plan, just in case, and was totally prepared to beat her competition this year. Nothing was going to stop her.
There were only a few workshops scheduled for this afternoon. For the most part, it was a day to catch up with other florists. Kady checked off two topics she thought might be interesting. How to Improve Your Business was scheduled in ten minutes. Later, she’d stop by Floral Tips 101, then have time to run home, change into something dressy and return for the reception.
Pleased with her first decision, she stood, smoothing the designer jeans she wore with a jade green top and high-heeled black boots, the picture of a successful businesswoman. Or so she hoped. She dropped the convention packet in her large tote bag, which held a notebook and several pens, then hitched it over her shoulder, ready to move on to the first meeting room. When she looked up, her gaze collided with the handsome guy she hadn’t been able to get out of her mind since Saturday.
His low drawl sent a familiar awareness through her. “Surprise.”
Her eyes went wide, but she quickly regained her composure. “Dylan? What are you doing here?”
“Attending the conference.”
“I thought you were in town for the wedding.”
“And the conference. Double duty.”
She blinked. “I...”
His spicy cologne grabbed her attention and she forgot her next words. Today he’d dressed in a light blue, button-down dress shirt and black trousers. The loafers made his outfit casual, yet he carried it off with sophistication.
“Why didn’t you mention you’d be here when we were together the other night?” she finally ventured.
He shrugged, his metal-colored eyes hooded. “I’m a man of mystery.”
“That I believe, because you don’t seem like a florist.”
There was an edge about Dylan. She couldn’t see him patiently creating a floral arrangement. No, more like he needed action in his life.
He chuckled. “I’m not, but it is a family business. Just like everyone else here, I’m ready to learn more about the floral industry.”
She glanced down at his chest and back. “Where’s your name tag?”
“You caught me. I haven’t picked it up yet.”
“You can’t get into any of the workshops unless you have one.” Did she come off as stuffy as she sounded?
“Which I’ll rectify right now. See you around?”
“Sure. I hope so.”
Shaking her head, Kady went to the designated meeting room. Why hadn’t Dylan told her he’d be here? Not that he needed to announce his schedule to her. They’d only bumped into each other a few times. Of course, this was Cypress Pointe. If he was going to hang around town, she’d eventually run into him.
As her mind worked out the logistics of Dylan’s presence at the convention, Kady nearly missed the room. Clearing her mind, she entered, determined to concentrate on the speaker, not Dylan’s motives. Glancing around, she noticed a few early birds scattered about in the empty seats. She chose a row in the middle, a few seats in from the aisle. A few minutes passed and someone took a seat beside her. Dylan.
“Are you stalking me?”
“No. You’re the only person I know here. And I can always learn how to—” he glanced at the workshop schedule and read “—improve my business.”
She slanted a look his way. “You own a floral shop?”
“My mom. I help her out occasionally by coming to these conventions.”
“So you don’t actually work in the floral industry?”
“Not in the traditional sense.”
Kady wrinkled her brow. “What other sense is there?”
“More like I’m into the growing end of the business.”
“You mean, like a wholesaler?” she asked.
“Plants are more my area.”
“Interesting. Are you planning on broadening your expertise this week?”
His eyes grew warm. “Most definitely.”
The speaker stepped up to the podium and started her speech. She droned on about buildings and taxes and finding good employees. Nothing new here, all things Kady had already discovered and implemented on her own. Fifteen minutes later, she stifled a yawn, wondering how the woman hadn’t lost her business out of sheer boredom instead of improving it.
Dylan leaned over and spoke in a hushed voice. His breath tickled her ear, which, to Kady’s chagrin, triggered a set of chills. What was wrong with her?
“Is this as excruciating as I think?”
She tried not to groan. “Yes.”
“How about ditching the rest of the lecture and getting a coffee?”
“Lead the way.”
They quietly left the room. Once outside, Dylan held up his program folder. “I hope that isn’t a preview of things to come.”
“No. Most of the speakers are interesting. I’ve never heard the businesswoman before.”
He steered her through the lobby then to the poolside Sandbar Café.
“Want anything in particular?”
“Decaf,” Kady told him. “A little cream.”
“Got it,” he said, removing his lanyard and stuffing it into his pants pocket.
While Dylan ordered two coffees, Kady found them a table. The sun shone brightly and reflected off the sparkling water of the hotel pool. Brisk and pleasant, the afternoon air held a slight hint of orange blossoms. Appropriate for a floral convention. Kady dug a sweater out of her tote. January in Florida could be fickle, so she always tried to be prepared. Despite the weather, it was a perfect month for a convention.
Dylan joined her with two tall cups.
“So, do you own your flower shop?” he asked conversationally.
Kady blew on her coffee before answering. “Technically my folks do, but I’ve recently taken over its day-to-day running.”
“If the wedding arrangements you designed last weekend are any indication, you’ll do well.”
“Thanks.” She took a sip of the richly brewed coffee then set down her cup. “If your family is in the business, why didn’t you supply the flowers for your cousin’s wedding?”
“We came from out of town. My cousin didn’t want to add the burden of us getting here, finding a wholesaler and a place to prepare the flowers. She wanted this to be a mini family vacation without the logistical headache.”
“Very considerate.”
“My mom is always busy. It was a nice break for her.”
“Will she be at the reception tonight?”
“Wouldn’t miss it.”
“Good. I’d like to meet her.”
“So, what should I expect the next couple of days?”
“The usual convention stuff.” She counted off on her fingers. “Workshops, networking, competitions. Oh, and this year? Hands-on workshops.”
One of Dylan’s dark eyebrows rose. “What does that mean?”
“Means you’ll probably be up to your elbows in fresh flowers at some point. Problem with that?”
“No way.”
“Even if your mom can’t make it and asks you to fill in?”
“Maybe.” His gaze pierced hers. “If you’re in the workshop.”
She swallowed. Those odd-shaded eyes got her every time. She imagined the deep secrets hidden there, secrets he’d never reveal to anyone. Especially not to her, anyway. And why would she even be thinking that way? He was here for the convention, just like her. Nothing more, or at least that was what she was telling herself.
“Are your brothers here?”
“No. Once they were off the hook, they left before Mom could change her mind and talk them into staying.”
“And you aren’t wishing you took off with them?”
He studied her intently until she felt her cheeks heat. “If I left with them I wouldn’t be able to spend time with you. So, no. I’m glad I stayed.”
She hoped her smile didn’t make her seem as if she was easily impressed. Yes, she was intrigued, but he didn’t have to be privy to that information. “You’re a real sweet talker, aren’t you?”
A cocky smile spread across his lips. “Given the right motivation.”
“Save me from overconfident nonflorists.”
“Is there such a thing?”
“Apparently.”
He chuckled. “Really, I’m glad I met you. I’m hoping you might give me a tour of your town. If it’s not too much to ask.”
“Depends on the workshop schedule. This convention is held once a year and I intend on making full use of the resources available.”
“Spoken like a serious business owner. Bet you could give that last presenter a run for her money.”
She tried not to be on the defensive, but after struggling with her parents over every detail at the shop to prove her worth, his words touched a sore spot in her. “Who knows—maybe next year I will be.”
His eyes softened. “I don’t doubt it for a minute.”
Taking a bracing gulp of her drink to cover the pleasure from his words, Kady hoped to diffuse this...whatever, between them. She hadn’t been reduced to klutzy conference conversation in ages. What was it about Dylan that had her blushing like a schoolgirl? And what if he was here with someone?
She didn’t know, but she decided right then and there to find out. “So, um...are you alone—”
Just then a cell phone rang. She realized it was Dylan’s when he patted his chest to find the device in his shirt pocket. He removed it, read the screen and said, “Hold that thought.” Then he rose to take the call.
“And another one bites the dust,” she muttered, watching his retreating back. With a sigh she gathered her belongings, intending to sit in on the next lecture.
“Leaving?” Dylan asked, catching her before she took off.
“Yes. Thanks for the coffee.”
“Hope we can do it again.”
At his easy smile, she decided to take a chance. “Going to the next workshop? We can sit together and critique the speaker.”
His smile dimmed. “Sorry. Something’s come up.”
Of course it had.
&nbs
p; “Then I’ll catch you later.” She waved and walked away, ignoring the twinge of disappointment in her chest and the regret reflected in Dylan’s eyes.
* * *
DYLAN WATCHED KADY walk away. He liked her confident stride, liked the way her shoulder-length hair swung as she walked. Liked her smile and how she kept up her end of the conversation. He liked her, plain and simple. Yet he had no idea what, if anything, her connection might be to the drug dealer he’d come searching for.
He ran a hand through his hair. He wanted to tag along with Kady, sit through another workshop, but the police chief had just given him news he couldn’t put on the back burner.
Since they’d talked at the beach last Saturday night, there had been a spike in activity at the marina. The chief wanted Dylan to meet Max Sanders, the PI in town whom the chief had pulled into the investigation. After reading the text containing the address to Max’s office, Dylan pocketed the cell and headed to the nearest exit.
Fifteen minutes later, he sat in a cramped office overlooking Main Street, with the chief and Max.
“I don’t know if this is related to your guy,” the chief said to Dylan, “but I’ve busted two convenience-store owners for selling synthetic drugs.”
Dylan nodded. “We’ve been trying to crack down on sales all over the state. Just before Esposa disappeared, he was a major player in synthetic-drug distribution. I can’t imagine he’s given up just because he’s moved house.”
“Then we better find him or whoever is in charge. A local girl ended up in the ER last night. Her folks are frantic.”
Dylan sympathized. “So what’s the plan?”
Max, who’d been sitting back in his desk chair, leaned forward. “I’m going to stake out the marina. Watch the activity. Take pictures. See if those involved match up to your database.”
“I’ll keep after those store owners,” the chief added. “Bugging them isn’t going to make them stop selling that junk, but I can make life difficult by threatening arrests.”