Blind Date Rivals

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Blind Date Rivals Page 13

by Nina Harrington


  Leo reached across and took one of her hands in his. ‘I don’t expect you to do it on your own,’ he said. ‘There are great removal teams who could have you up and running in two or three days. The plants would never know the difference.’

  He bent his head down so that he was looking up at her with a wide smile, warm and encouraging. And she was so glad that he was here holding her hand, helping her to get through this, that her throat tightened and she blinked away treacherous tears before squeezing his hand between her palms.

  She was being so totally pathetic it was ridiculous! She was a grown woman.

  ‘Laugh at me if you will, Leo, but Kingsmede Manor has been the one constant in my life for as long as I can remember and I just can’t imagine growing orchids somewhere else. It’s the only place I’ve ever felt loved and treasured and wanted. It’s my safe place. That probably sounds ridiculous, but I mean it. Every word.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, looking into those grey-blue eyes which were gazing at her with such compassion that she almost lost it. ‘I know that you’re trying to save my business and I appreciate that more than I can tell you. It’s just that…everyone I have ever loved and cared about has gone and left me just when I needed them. I haven’t seen my father since I was six, my mother is a ghost and then I lost my grandmother three years ago. That’s why I came back to Kingsmede, because it belonged to my grandmother. And it would not be the same anywhere else. Does that make any sense to you at all?’

  Leo looked into Sara’s wide eyes, filled with concern, regret and love of the one place that she had made into her safe haven in this mad world, and his heart melted.

  He stroked her short hair back over her ears, caressing the cropped layers as though they were made of the finest silk, his fingers moving from her temple in gentle circles while all the time all he wanted to do was gather her up into his arms and tell her that it was all going to be fine and that he could fix this for her.

  That was his job after all, wasn’t it? Fixing things for other people.

  But he couldn’t give her that comfort.

  He had spent hours poring over the old designs for the Manor, sketching and drawing out elaborate schemes for wonderful glasshouses and a stunning conservatory, and enjoying every minute of it. Sara had searched everywhere for the more detailed schematics without success but he had already seen enough to visualise just how splendid the buildings could have been.

  But the cold light of dawn brought with it the hard truth.

  These designs were so elaborate that the cost of restoring the gardens would far outweigh the benefits to the hotel short-term. And he simply did not have any information to show that they would provide enough income during the winter to be worth the investment.

  But it was more than that. If he proposed a garden restoration plan to the Rizzi Hotel group, it could put him at odds with the other plans he knew would work for the hotel. At odds with his aunt and his family at exactly the time when he was trying to impress them with how very clever he was.

  Grand and fanciful concepts like garden restoration would expose him to the worst criticism of all from his grand father—that he was being sentimental and putting people before the business.

  No. That idea had to stay just that. An idea which would never be realised. He could not risk being humiliated by his grandfather. Not even for Sara.

  While all the while this wonderful, courageous woman felt as though she had been abandoned by everyone she had cared for.

  All he could do was open up his heart and share some of his own life in the vain hope that she would believe that there was someone in her life who knew how she was feeling and hurting. Then talk through real ideas which he knew would work for her.

  ‘I do understand,’ he said, ‘more than you think. My parents passed away in a car accident when I was sixteen, but until then we used to live in a little house in the London suburbs. When you are a child you don’t realise how hard it must have been for your parents, but my sister and I had a very happy childhood. I always knew that I was loved and wanted. We might not have had the latest electronic gizmo the other kids had, but they used to love to come to our house because it was always full of music and life and chatter.’

  He smiled at Sara and tapped her on the end of her nose. ‘Sometimes I have to drive through that part of town and I miss that old house. I was happy there.’

  Sara gasped and slid her hand onto his wrist and held it there. ‘I’m so sorry to hear about your parents,’ she said. ‘I can only imagine how awful it must have been for you. But I’m glad that you have such happy memories.’ She smiled. ‘Tell me about them. Tell me about your dad. What did he do?’

  Leo took a breath. He had not been expecting that.

  ‘My dad worked as an architect in a city firm, but his real passion was painting. I remember sneaking downstairs in the middle of the night so that I could watch him working frantically to cover the canvas with paint. Landscapes. Portraits. He could do anything. His fingers were moving so fast that they seemed to blur, and he was so wrapped up in the world that he was creating that he usually didn’t even notice that I was there. It was his obsession.’

  Then Leo’s voice drifted away into a soft whisper that resonated inside the van. ‘And then a few hours later he would put away his paints and put on his business suit and take a bus and then the underground to work in an office block with fluorescent tubes above his head, drawing up plans for more office blocks and car parks. And he did that year after year because he had a family he loved. I admired him for that sacrifice and I still admire him today.’

  ‘He must have been a remarkable man,’ Sara whispered, holding Leo’s hand tightly.

  Leo smiled and nodded, grateful for the rare opportunity to talk about the parents he had so adored and still missed on a daily basis and yet never spoke about to anyone, not even his sister or his aunt. ‘They were both remarkable,’ he replied.

  He looked at her and his eyes sparkled with a fierce passion which was invigorating and almost frightening in its intensity. ‘And that is why I am going to prove to my mother’s family that she made the right decision when she chose to elope with my father. He was a terrific man and he loved her more than anything else in the world. Nobody disrespects him. Nobody. And that’s why I need to show them that her son is worthy of that same respect.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ she asked in a low voice, calm and collected, trying to balance out the pressure and electrifying tension that crackled in the air between them.

  ‘I’ve been invited to join my aunt for lunch at the Rizzi board meeting on Friday. She kept in touch with my mum from the day she walked out of the family home, and was there to take care of us after the accident. But she won’t be there on her own—the whole family is coming up to Kingsmede Manor for the meeting, and that includes my grandfather, Paolo Rizzi. It is not going to be easy, but I am willing to take the first step to talk to him if he is prepared to listen in return.’

  Leo’s upper lip twitched. ‘And I might just show off a little about how successful my business has become. Or maybe a lot, depending on the reception I receive. I suppose that makes me a lesser person but this is a special occasion.’

  ‘Of course.’ She nodded slowly. ‘Now I am beginning to get the picture. And I almost—almost—’ she held up one hand as Leo opened his mouth to protest ‘—feel sorry for old Paolo. He won’t know what’s hit him. Good luck for Friday.’

  Then she smiled and her voice dropped an octave. ‘When are you going back to London?’

  ‘Tomorrow. I need to catch up on my workload, but I’ll be coming back here on Thursday evening. Why?’

  ‘Oh, I was just thinking that I might be available for dinner on Thursday evening, Reg. Seeing as it will be your last night in Kingsmede before the big meeting. If the invitation is still open.’

  ‘It would be my pleasure,’ he murmured and reached out and took her hands in his as he stared deep into those green eyes, so full of hope a
nd care.

  ‘I want you to think about what I’ve suggested. You would still have your cottage and the main greenhouse at the Manor. That doesn’t change. But your other two glasshouses would on the other side of the village. Would that really be so bad? You would still be Kingsmede Manor Orchids. Okay?’

  ‘Yes…’ she breathed out in a rush. ‘…I suppose I would. I will think about it. Thank you, Leo.’

  The delight and fire of energy and enthusiasm in Sara’s eyes burnt so brightly that Leo sucked in a breath of cooling air. If it meant so much to Sara to even suggest that there was a chance then he could give her a sprig of hope.

  ‘Hey. We are a team, remember—Eloise and Reggie’s Floral Specialities. Bring it on, Sara. Let’s do this. Let’s show them what Kingsmede Manor could have been. Ready to get started? We have a business plan to write.’

  CHAPTER NINE

  SARA stepped out of the shower, wiped away the condensation from the surface of the bathroom mirror and stared at herself through the hazy mist.

  She was exhausted and it showed in the dark shadows under her eyes and the paleness of her skin. The plans for Tony Evans were complete. But even with Leo’s help it had taken her twice as long as she had expected to photograph the orchids she had allocated to specific rooms in the hotel. She had eventually crashed into bed at two on Wednesday morning.

  Leo was still working at the kitchen table when her eyes started to close and her head had started dropping onto her chest. She had a vague memory of his warm arms wrapped around her waist as he lifted her up and carried her in his arms the few steps to her bedroom.

  Bliss.

  She had only meant to nap for an hour or so; when she woke Pasha was asleep on the bed and the morning was gone. And so was Leo.

  She ran her hands through her short hair, pushing it back from her forehead, and wondered how she had managed without Leo all this time. She would never have achieved so much in the past few days without his help. She knew that, but of course it was more. A lot more.

  Leo Grainger had come crashing deep into her life like a tsunami wiping away everything in its path and leaving behind a new world of… That was the difficult bit.

  She felt so helpless.

  Her hands clamped around the cool ceramic basin before she slapped cold water onto her face and patted it dry.

  She should go back to the hot orchid house and check the humidity levels. The weather had changed from hot sunshine to the type of sticky cloudy day that threatened rain or even thunder. It was oppressive and so warm that she had slept without covers all night.

  It was as though the whole world had changed from warm sunshine to cloud—not only the weather but in her heart.

  How had she got herself into this position?

  She had become so comfortable with her routine existence, but it had only taken one man like Leo Grainger to come wafting into her life in a vampire costume and it was as though the windows had been opened and a powerful light had illuminated a dark space, revealing what lay within.

  And she did not like very much what she saw there.

  Sara turned from side to side and looked at her naked body as objectively as she could in the misty mirror. On the surface she was the same girl she had always been. Tall, gawky, slim and without much cleavage to shout about.

  It was as though time had turned back on itself and she was sixteen again, getting ready for her mother’s birthday party. And knowing deep inside that she was never going to be pretty enough or glamorous and stylish enough to be the daughter her mother wanted and needed. Slick and shiny and well groomed were the kind of descriptions reserved for other girls.

  How could a country duckling like her ever hope to be enough for a man like Leo Grainger? What had she got to offer him?

  There was no future in their relationship, and it was ridiculous for her to even dream that there could be. Their lives were so very different in every way.

  Did she really expect him to drive down to this village every weekend? And she could hardly go to London or fly out to some romantic hotel at a moment’s notice without neglecting her customers and her nursery.

  So where did that leave them?

  Any idea that they had a future together was just a glorious illusion like the magical gardens described in the Victorian documents Leo had devoured with such pleasure the day before.

  She felt Pasha purring and rubbing against her bare legs and she instantly reached down and lifted him up. Her grandmother’s old cat didn’t even struggle or try and scratch her once.

  ‘This is the end of an era, Pasha,’ she murmured into his warm dry fur. ‘Things are going to be a lot different from now on. But we will be okay in the end.’

  Except that, as Sara caught her reflection in the mirror, she could only see weary disappointment and finality in the sad eyes of the girl looking back at her.

  And that shocked her more than she had thought possible.

  Was this how it was going to be from now on? Not if she had anything to say about it.

  ‘Well, Pasha, if this truly is the end of an era—’ she smiled ‘—then let’s make this a night to remember. Don’t wait up. I might be quite late.’

  Leo stared out over the hotel grounds in the late afternoon sunshine towards the fine filigree roof of the glasshouses on the other side of the lane. He knew that there was a small cottage there with a girl who made his heart sing and if he wanted he could walk over and be there in minutes.

  But he wouldn’t.

  In a few short days Sara Fenchurch had become the only woman he liked to spend his time with. The person he needed to talk to first thing in the morning and last thing at night. They had spent hours chatting about nothing in particular and the time seemed to pass in seconds.

  He liked Sara. He liked her a lot. And maybe, just maybe, he more than liked her. But that came with a price.

  Tomorrow he would meet his aunt and the Rizzi family in what had been Sara’s grandmother’s dining room and give a presentation he had been thinking about for so long it had become a myth.

  But instead of working every hour he could on the details he knew he would be challenged on, all he could think about was a pretty girl called Sara and the orchids she loved so passionately in this special world she had created for herself. A world so foreign to his normal life it could have been a distant country. And yet, driving back to Kingsmede that afternoon, he had felt almost excited about seeing the Manor again.

  Which was ridiculous. He loved his life in London and the pulse and excitement of the city in his pristine, ordered workspace and home. She loved the cramped, hot and humid space between her rows of plants and a crazy, messy cottage.

  The view of the Thames from his office on the fifteenth floor of the glass building in Docklands was worth every hour of relentless and unending conference work.

  She loved the view of her flower beds from her kitchen window.

  His triple layer electronic calendar was now completely full for the next five months and into the New Year. Her diary hung from a peg near the kitchen door and was just about to get a lot less crammed.

  He should be excited about making the presentation tomorrow and relishing the thoughts of his triumph with the family. Instead of which he felt hollow and exhausted from the thought of leaving Kingsmede and Sara behind him.

  He had changed.

  She had changed his life.

  She had given him so much—and what had he given her? His time, his opinions—but not the truth. He had not given her the truth. And she deserved better than that.

  No matter what happened going forward, Sara deserved to hear the truth from him.

  She would be hurt and probably angry to discover that he was a liar and a fraud. Other people had let her down in the past and now he was adding himself to the list.

  Leo drew back the curtain and opened the bedroom window.

  This was his last chance to spend time with Sara as the man she thought he was.

  Time to make
this evening something she could remember for the right reasons.

  Sara tugged at the skirt of her fitted azure cocktail dress one more time before sucking in a breath, lifting her head and walking as calmly as she could into the reception area of Kingsmede Manor Hotel. Not as a delivery girl or wannabe orchid supplier, but as a bona fide member of the public here at the invitation of a very important guest of the hotel.

  Tonight she was just a normal girl out on a date with a charming, handsome man who had invited her to be his dinner companion.

  And just the thought of that gave her the jitters so badly that she almost slipped on the highly polished marble floor in her uncomfortable high heels which she had not worn for three years. It was a mystery how she had managed to wear shoes like this every day and blocked out the pain as the price of elegance. She truly was not the city girl she had once pretended to be. Not that she had ever been one at heart, she knew that now. Which made it even more incredible that Leo Grainger was even vaguely interested in her and wanted to spend his last evening alone with her.

  Smiling to the receptionist who had given her a sly nod and wink of approval on the way in, Sara wrapped her fingers around her clutch bag as tight as she dared without destroying the poor thing to hide her nerves, and strolled casually over towards the hotel bar. She had only gone a few steps when the elevator doors opened and out emerged the man she had come to meet.

  Leo was wearing a sky-blue shirt, highlighting his tanned skin and broad shoulders, and she had to fight back a sudden urge to throw herself at him and drag him into the elevator and shock the hotel staff. But of course she would never do that… She was still the Lady of the Manor as far as the locals were concerned. Pity.

  ‘For once I am on time,’ she said, her voice low and shaky. ‘Nice shirt.’

  Leo made a joke of glancing down at the shirt and flicking off an imaginary speck.

 

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