“I should hope so. “
Bill, Beth’s husband, came out of the back with a bottle of the wine Klaus had ordered. She watched as they went through the inspection ritual. Klaus smiled and spoke a soft word of praise in German.
Bill poured two glasses of the wine. “Beth will be right out with your soup.”
Klaus looked at her. “Surely, it is not just the two of them running this establishment? Or are we getting special treatment?”
“You have something against being cosseted and spoiled?”
“Not at all,” he assured her with another of his heart melting smiles. “I surround myself with people whose jobs are to make my life run more smoothly, to cosset and spoil me. I rather like the feeling, actually.”
“I did have that impression,” she allowed.
“What other impressions have I made upon you?”
Edwina felt her face grow warm. She knew that she was blushing.
He smiled. “The question embarrasses you?”
“Yes. The answers may not be what you want to hear.”
He looked at her for a long moment. “And what do you think I want to hear?”
“I do not believe that this subject is appropriate for a business discussion.”
He smiled again. “You would prefer to stay with safer topics.”
“Definitely.”
“I never would have pegged you as a coward, Edwina.”
She sipped her wine. “Then again, you don’t know me very well.”
“That will change.”
“Awfully confident of that, aren’t you?”
“I am. Back to the matter of the restaurant, then, why are we receiving special treatment?”
“Most of the dining room staff leaves at nine,” she explained. “The dinner crowd is mostly gone by then. I come in fairly frequently at this time of night. The food here is quite good. Once they discovered that I had purchased the building down the block, Bill and Beth have treated me like family.”
Beth laughed as she placed before them deep soup plates filled with the house homemade broccoli soup, that was quickly followed by a basket of hot whole-wheat rolls, and a supply of fresh butter. “Actually, we treat her better than family, as family gets put to work,” the restaurateur confessed with a smile. “Now, Enjoy the soup,” she said in her normal friendly voice before she departed, leaving them to discuss the matter of their business.
“You do not lease the shop?” Klaus asked as he dipped his spoon into the soup.
“No. I bought the building outright. The seller was quite motivated, it seemed. For a cash deal, he was willing to take less than the half the market value of the building. The tenants along the street provide a fairly sizable income independent of my shop. I have a wonderful open space upstairs, which is virtually soundproofed from the tenants beneath, much of that space, I have converted to greenhouse. The rest I use for living and office space. Generally, I like it.”
“Greenhouse? What do you grow?”
She hesitated. “I have a section dedicated to my orchids. Then I have a section of herbs. I grow most of my own fresh vegetables.”
“Then you have given up your research,” Klaus observed.
“I am constantly posing questions to myself and needing to find the answers.”
“What could motivate someone to take a loss of that magnitude on a building,” Klaus asked, changing the subject.
“The building is alleged to be haunted.”
“Haunted?” Klaus asked with sharp interest. “As in ghosts?”
Edwina shrugged. “That is the generally accepted meaning of the word. According to my tenants, or rather according to one of my tenants, there are several rather unpleasant spirits in the building.”
“Do you believe this?” he asked softly.
“Let’s just say that I am still gathering data. I’ve been there for two months, and I’ve yet to see or hear anything even remotely malevolent, apart from one of my tenants who rather decidedly gives me the creeps.”
“Perhaps the tenant’s claim to hauntings has to do with the fact he wished to buy the building?”
She shrugged. “I can’t be certain of that. I don’t believe he could raise the necessary funds to buy the building. It is my strong suspicion that the man is simply unbalanced. I do not think he is quite clinically insane. However, he is most definitely different.”
“Doesn’t that worry you?” Klaus asked.
“He pays his rent on time. Aside from his complaints about what he calls ‘poltergeists’, he is not a terrible tenant.”
“You do not believe him to be dangerous, then?”
“I don’t know him to be dangerous. And I’ll continue to give him the benefit of doubt until or unless he makes me believe otherwise.”
“Do you suspect that he could be dangerous?”
“Let’s just say I go way out of my way not to spend time in his company.”
“Are you afraid of him?”
“I am afraid of very few people, Klaus.”
“Am I among that select few?” Klaus asked hesitantly.
“I am not afraid of you—cautious, yes—afraid, no. I am quite certain that you are a powerful man, powerful both physically and financially. I am absolutely certain that you have an agenda you are pursuing in my regard. I am also absolutely certain that your coming into the shop last evening was not in any way an accidental encounter.”
His smile wavered just a bit before his eyes twinkled in mischief. “Guilty as charged on all counts. I throw myself on your tender mercy,” he said in rapid German.
“That is a profoundly dangerous thing to do. I am not known to be overly merciful,” she warned in his language. “Are you certain that you wish to put yourself at hazard?”
He chuckled in amusement. “A small measure of danger adds spice to life.”
“Whereas a large measure gives indigestion?” she asked in English.
“At minimum,” he agreed easily.
“Shall I tell you more of which I am certain?” she asked quietly after she took another sip of the wine. At his nod, she continued, “I am certain that you have excellent taste in wine. This is very nice. Thank you for ordering it.”
“Your company is far more pleasant than the wine, Edwina,” he told her quietly.
She took another spoonful of the soup and a bite of the roll. The food was, as usual, wonderful.
“Empty flattery will only make me angry,” she warned. “Suppose that we discuss the matter of your garden, unless that was simply a ruse to get me here?”
“Just how many plays ahead in chess do you think?”
“That would depend on how well I know my opponent. The better I know the thought processes of my opponent, the more moves I am able to anticipate.”
“Then I shall very much enjoy the day that you are able to state that you know me quite well.”
“I wonder if anyone truly knows you that well,” she stated, thinking aloud.
He was taken aback by that comment. “You may well be correct,” he admitted quietly. “I am said to be most formidable.”
“Now, that I do believe. I cannot see you suffering fools gladly. Yet, I do not find you particularly formidable.”
He smiled at her. “I do not wish for you to find me so.”
“Yet, I do imagine that you could be truly distant and unapproachable if you wished to be.”
“No more than you yourself can be so,” he countered. “Your reputation is rather at odds with the woman I have discovered you to be.”
“And just what is my reputation?” she asked hesitantly.
“Brilliant mind, profoundly logical and yet able to think outside of conventions, coldly efficient, completely asexual, acerbic tongued with an absolutely wicked ability to flay an opponent without as much as raising her gentle voice, a distant perfectionist driving herself and all those around her to high achievement, all in all a difficult person to manage. But a very good person to give an assignment and stay out o
f her way while she completes it.”
She sipped the wine. “That last bit is as good a distillation of my personality as any, I suppose. In what areas do you see variance?”
“You are a vibrant woman, hardly the colorless lab rat I was led to expect,” he said quietly.
She laughed boldly as she reached for her sketchpad from within her brief case. “A colorless lab rat… Oh, dear, that is a mental picture I shall carry for a long time. Oh, that is priceless. Thank you.” She took a pencil in hand and then began sketching. He sat there and enjoyed his soup, wondering what she was sketching.
When she was done a few minutes later, she handed him the sketch. It was quickly done, but there was definitely nothing amateurish about it. The sketch was of Edwina as a rat. Her face was on the body of a rat that was standing on its hind legs. A long lab coat was buttoned up to the throat.
“Is that what you thought of me?” she teased.
He nodded negatively as he handed her back the sketch. “Hardly. There is nothing of the lab rat in you. Neither is there anything remotely asexual about you. You are one hundred percent profoundly desirable, passionate, woman. Any man who could describe you as asexual has to have something seriously wrong with his senses.”
She felt her face grow warm. “Perhaps,” she allowed after sipping her wine.
He shook his head negatively. “No perhaps about it, Edwina. You are the most desirable woman I have ever known.”
She nodded negatively. “Right,” she dismissed.
“You do not believe me?”
“I am thirty-five years old, Klaus. In all that time, I’ve never noticed that I was capable of inspiring that degree of desire in any man, let alone a man like you who could have any woman he wants.”
“You are the only woman I want,” Klaus said.
“For now.”
“Forever. I am at a loss as to why you have been described as asexual.”
“In the lab, I purposefully cultivate that asexual attitude. I don’t care to be propositioned by my coworkers.”
“By whom do you care to be propositioned?”
“You have this marked ability to pose immensely personal questions.”
“Yes. I do. Will you answer that question?”
She changed the subject rapidly. “No. I don’t believe I will. Tell me what you want from your garden, Klaus. First, how much ground is involved?”
He sipped his wine then smiled. “I like the sound of my name on your lips, Edwina. Please continue to use it. By the way, no one had said anything to me about your artistic ability. You are quite a good sketch artist.”
She shrugged, “I manage well enough to do what I need to do. But, I’m not an artist. A couple of my cousins got most of the artistic ability in the family. I am an adequate technical illustrator and cartoonist. Not much more,” she answered.
“You’re entirely too modest.”
“Just honest.”
He smiled at her. “I can see that it’s going to be interesting to get to know you.”
“How much ground is involved in the proposed garden?”
“The garden area will be about six acres,” he replied after a moment.
She had to laugh. Somehow, she doubted this man ever did anything on a small scale. She didn’t know why a six acre garden surprised her. But it did. “Six acres?” she echoed.
A furrow formed between his brows as he obviously redid the calculations.
“You think in metric measurements, don’t you?” she observed.
He nodded. “It is sometimes difficult to force myself to move between systems of measurements.”
“I understand. The size of your garden is six acres?”
“Yes. Six acres, more or less, is the size of the garden. The stables and exercise yard for my horses takes up three acres. The house, pool, tennis courts, and garage take up an acre. It’s a ten acre plot, more or less, on which the house sits.”
“What is on the acreage now?”
“Virtually nothing. Grass. A mortared fieldstone fence around the perimeter. Some immature oak and maple trees. Nothing of much significance or interest,” he dismissed.
“Tell me what you want from the acreage.”
“I prefer formal gardens. I like knot gardens and topiary.”
“Good topiary takes years, Klaus.”
“I’m not planning on leaving the States anytime soon, aside from brief business trips.”
“What else do you want from the garden?”
“There should always be color regardless of the season. The only time that I have to be in the garden is in the evenings. I’d prefer some night blooming varieties so that I could have full enjoyment of the garden.”
“Okay. I can probably arrange that.”
“If I could, I would like a section of herb garden done in the Victorian style. And I should like a small orchard of fruit trees and berry vines—apples, pears, cherries, apricots, peaches, figs, kiwi—as well as strawberries, blueberries, boysenberries, gooseberries, and blackberries. Oh, and a patch of asparagus. I am quite fond of asparagus in the early spring.”
Edwina smiled. “The soil requirements for several of those plants are radically different from what the others require.”
“You’ll manage.”
“What else do you want?”
“There is one section of ground near the house that is lower than the rest. It would be perfect place for a hidden garden, a private retreat. I should like to have it separated off from the rest with trellised roses. I like roses. “
“Is that why you purchased the furniture, for this private retreat?”
“It is.”
“The type of garden that you have described leaves no place in which for children to run and play.”
“Like you, Fraulein, I am unmarried,” he told her in German.
She couldn’t keep the relieved smile from crossing her face.
He looked at her for a long moment. “You are smiling. The fact that I am a bachelor pleases you. That is most encouraging,” he continued in German.
“I would hardly have thought that you would need encouragement from me,” she replied in his language.
“Where you are concerned, yes, I rather think that I need quite a massive dose of encouragement,” he stated quietly in English.
“The kind of garden you desire will be profoundly high maintenance,” she warned, in English, changing the subject back to business. “The costs of keeping it in order will be high.”
He smiled at her again. “You offer garden maintenance services, do you not? Surely, any maintenance arrangements can be worked out.”
Definitely, he was trying to ingratiate himself with her. She ate a bit more of the soup. “They can. How much of a budget were you thinking of for the establishment of the gardens?”
“Whatever it takes, up to five hundred thousand.”
She wasn’t going to bat an eye at that. The kind of garden he wanted would not be inexpensive, especially if specimen sized plantings were to be involved. Granted she would get most of the plantings from the landscape nursery at far less than retail. But she still had to give her nursery partner her fair share. “Five hundred thousand. Hmmm… I might be able to bring it in for that. Assuming of course that we are talking US Dollars, not Euro, nor Deutschmarks.”
“Dollars.”
“Frankly, it could take every bit of that to do a garden of that size, just in the cost of specimen sized plants,” she warned. “My design fee for this complex of a design is ten thousand dollars. Then there will be the cost of the plants and the labor.”
He took out his checkbook. He wrote the check and handed it to her. “And how long do you anticipate the project to take?”
“You just hand out checks like this without a contract?” Edwina demanded.
“I trust you.”
“You don’t know me.”
“I know you well enough to know that I will get every penny of my money’s worth from your design. You are an
honorable woman. How long do you anticipate the project to take?”
She sighed. “It will not be an overnight project, Klaus. Give me the address. I’ll come out on Monday morning, walk it off, take some photos, bring out my crew chief, and we’ll begin to work out the design. I should have some preliminary thoughts for you by a week from today.”
“Monday. Not tomorrow?”
“I do not personally do servile work on Sunday. Ever. It is just another way in which I am profoundly old-fashioned and difficult to work with.”
“Your reputation rankles somewhat, does it not?”
“It does. I don’t go out of my way to be difficult to people.”
“No. I can see that you do not. Having come to meet you, I find much of your reputation unfounded. Oh, you are brilliant, unquestionably. I would agree that you are efficient. I can see that you have the clear ability to flay a man’s skin at four hundred paces with just a word if you would find that necessary. I would not call you either cold or asexual, reserved, perhaps. Yet that is not even correct. Perhaps ‘formal’ would be more accurate. In an informal society, formality, living according to rules of behavior, can be seen as decidedly odd. However, there is nothing wrong with choosing to live one’s life following time-honored rules of honor.”
“Nothing, except that most people fail to recognize that there are rules,” she offered quietly. “Let alone that following the rules could make life flow more smoothly for themselves and for their families. I suppose that I do put people off by insisting on certain standards of behavior for myself and others in their interactions with me.”
“Any type of nonconformity tends to see one labeled as odd.”
“True.”
“Very well, Edwina. If you will not work on Sunday, then I shall leave word with the staff to expect you on Monday morning,” he said as he handed her his business card. “The address is accurate.”
“You will not be there?”
He shook his head negatively. “Unfortunately, I shall be dealing with my sister, Karen, and doing several video-conferences on Monday. “ His voice was full of brotherly amusement.
“Is Karen your only sister?” Edwina asked.
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