“How’s that?”
“Your eyes are much bluer and you’ve cut your hair.”
He gave a slight grin. “And your picture didn’t do you justice.”
Meg hadn’t thought to ask Lindsey which one she’d mailed Steve. “Can I see?”
“Sure.” He pulled it out of his pocket and handed it over.
Meg took one look and rolled her eyes. She couldn’t believe Lindsey had sent this particular photograph to anyone. It’d been taken just before Christmas a year earlier. She was standing in front of the Christmas tree wearing a white dress that drained all the color from her face. The flash from the camera made her eyes appear red. She looked like she was recovering from a serious ailment.
“This is one of the worst pictures ever taken of me,” she said impatiently. “The one of me at the bookstore is much better.”
Steve’s brow creased with a frown. “I see. You should’ve sent that one.”
Meg realized what she’d said too late. “You’re right, I should have…. How silly of me.”
The waitress came and they placed their orders, both declining a drink, Meg to keep down the cost and Steve, no doubt, to hurry the meal along.
Once the server had left the table, Meg carefully smoothed the napkin across her lap. “Listen, Steve…”
“Meg…”
They both stopped.
“You go first,” he said, gesturing toward her.
“All right.” She cocked her head to one side and then the other, going over the words in her mind. “This isn’t easy….”
Steve frowned. “It’s been a pleasure to meet me, but the chemistry just isn’t there and you’d like to let me down gently and be done with it.”
“No!” she hurried to assure him.
“Oh.”
The disappointment in his tone came as a mild shock. Then she understood. “You…expected a different kind of woman and—”
“Not in the least. If the truth be known, I’m pleasantly surprised.”
She swallowed. “I wish you hadn’t said that.”
“Why not?”
“Because…” She dragged in a deep breath. “Because I’m not the person you think I am. I mean…” This was proving even more difficult than it should have. “I didn’t write those letters.”
Steve’s eyes narrowed. “Then who did?”
“My daughter and her friend.”
“I…see.”
Meg’s fingers crushed the linen napkin in her lap. “You have every reason to be upset. It was an underhanded thing to do to us both.”
“You didn’t know anything about this?”
“I swear I didn’t. I would’ve put a stop to it immediately if I had.”
Steve reached for his water and drank thirstily. “I would have, too.”
“I want you to know I intend to discipline Lindsey for this. I can only apologize…” She stopped midsentence when she saw his shoulders moving with suppressed laughter. “Steve?”
“I didn’t write those letters, either. The ones from me.”
“What?” Disbelief settled over Meg. “You mean to say you didn’t respond to the ad in Dateline?”
“Nope. My romantic little sister did. Nancy’s on this kick about seeing me married. I don’t understand it, but—”
“Just a minute,” Meg said, raising her hand. “Let me see if I’ve got this straight. You didn’t place the ad in Dateline.”
“You’ve got it.”
“Then why are you here?”
He shrugged. “Probably for the same reason you are. I figured you were some lonely heart seeking companionship and frankly I felt bad that Nancy had led you on like this. It isn’t your fault my crazy sister thinks it’s time I got married.”
He paused when their meals were delivered.
Meg dug into her chicken with gusto. Irritation usually made her hungry. She stabbed a carrot slice with her fork.
“So you felt sorry for me?” she said, chewing the carrot vigorously.
He looked up, apparently sensing her irritation. “No sorrier than you felt for me.”
He had her there.
“It’s the reason you showed up, isn’t it?” he pressed.
She agreed with a nod. “When did you find out about this dinner date?”
“This morning. You?”
She glanced at her watch. “About two hours ago.”
Steve chuckled. “They didn’t give you much opportunity to object, did they?”
“Actually they got the days mixed up and went into a panic. I don’t suppose you happened to read any of the letters or e-mails they wrote?”
“As a matter of fact I did. Interesting stuff.”
“I’ll bet.” She stabbed one of the potato pieces with her fork. “You should know that not everything they said was the truth.” She put the potato in her mouth and chewed.
“So you don’t actually run an eight-minute mile.”
“No…”
“Nine minutes?”
“I don’t exactly run, and before you ask me about carbs and fat grams, you can forget everything Lindsey told you about those, too. And for the record, my appendix is in great shape.”
Steve chuckled. “What did Nancy tell you about me?”
“Since I’ve only read tidbits of your letters and e-mails, I can’t really say.”
“Oh?” His voice fell noticeably.
“As I recall, your sister did suggest that your life’s quite empty and you’re looking for something to fill your lonely nights—” she paused for effect “—until you realized it wasn’t something you were searching for but someone.”
His jaw tightened. “She said that?”
“Yup.” Meg took some pleasure in telling him that.
“Well, that’s a crock of bull. I certainly hope you didn’t believe it.”
Meg smiled. “Not really. Lindsey didn’t mean any harm, you know.”
“Nancy, either, although I’d like to throttle her. The kid’s nineteen and she’s got romance and marriage on her mind. Unfortunately, it’s me she’s trying to marry off.”
“Lindsey thinks I’m lost and lonely, but I’m perfectly content with my life.”
“Me, too.”
“Why ruin everything now?”
“Exactly,” Steve agreed with conviction. “A woman would want to change everything about me.”
“A man would string me along until he found someone prettier and sexier. Besides,” Meg added, “I have no intention of becoming a pawn in some ploy of my daughter’s.”
“Nancy can take a flying leap into Green Lake before I’ll let her arrange my love life,” Steve told her adamantly. “I certainly intend to marry, but on my time—not when my kid sister ropes me into a lonely-hearts-club relationship.”
“I feel the same way.”
“Great.” Steve grinned at her, and Meg had to admit he had a wonderful smile. It lit up his eyes and softened his features. “Shall we drink to our agreement?”
“Definitely.”
Steve attracted the waitress’s attention and ordered a bottle of wine.
Meg was astonished by the ease with which they could talk, once all the pretense between them had been resolved. She told him about her bookstore and liked hearing about his body shop. They lingered over coffee and dessert, and not until it became apparent that the restaurant was about to close did they get up to leave.
“I enjoyed myself,” Meg said as they strolled to the door.
“Don’t sound so surprised.”
“Frankly, I am.”
He laughed. “I guess I am, too.”
The valet brought her Ford Escort to the front of the restaurant and held open her door.
“Thank you for a lovely dinner,” she said, suddenly feeling shy and awkward.
“The pleasure was all mine.”
Neither of them made an effort to move. The valet checked his watch and Meg glanced at him guiltily. Steve ignored him and eventually so did Meg.
&n
bsp; “I guess this is goodbye,” she said, wishing now that she hadn’t made such a big issue about not being her daughter’s pawn.
“Looks that way.”
She lowered her eyes, fighting the enticement she read in his. “Thanks again.”
Steve traced his finger along her jaw. His work-calloused fingertip felt warm against her skin. If they hadn’t been standing under the lights of a fancy French restaurant with a valet looking on, Meg wondered if he would’ve kissed her. She wanted to think he might have.
On the drive home, she dismissed the idea as fanciful. It had been a long time since she’d been wined and dined, that was all. And an even longer time since she’d been kissed…
Sensation after sensation traveled across her face where he’d touched her. Smile after smile flirted with her mouth at the memory of his lips so close to hers. She wouldn’t forget the date or the man anytime soon. That was for sure.
“Well, how’d it go?” Nancy demanded. His teenage sister met Steve at the door. Her eyes were wide with curiosity as she followed him inside.
Steve looked at his watch and frowned. “What are you still doing up?”
Nancy’s face fell. “You asked me to wait for you, so we could talk.”
Steve slid his fingers through his hair. “I did, didn’t I?”
“You’re much later than you thought you’d be.”
He didn’t respond, unwilling to let his sister know how much he’d enjoyed himself. “I’m furious with you for what you did,” he said, forcing his voice to sound gruff with irritation.
“I don’t blame you,” she agreed readily enough.
“Haven’t you got an exam to study for or something?” he asked, although he knew very well she didn’t. Nancy attended the nearby University of Washington. She was staying with Steve for the summer, since their parents were now living in Montana.
“You liked her, didn’t you?”
Nancy sounded much too smug to suit Steve.
“And no, I don’t have any exams to study for, and you know it. They ended two weeks ago.” Since then, she’d taken a summer job at the university library.
“So you’ve decided to stay in Seattle and make my life miserable.”
“No, I’ve decided to stay in Seattle and see you married. Come on, Steve, you’re thirty-eight! That’s getting up there.” She flopped down on the sofa and sat with her legs underneath her, as if she planned to plant herself right there until he announced his engagement.
The problem, Steve decided, was that Nancy was the product of parents who’d never expected a second child and had spoiled her senseless. He was partially to blame, as well, but he’d never thought she’d pull something like this.
“You work too hard,” she said. “Loosen up and enjoy life a little.”
“You’re going to write Meg Remington a formal letter of apology.” He refused to back down on this.
“Okay, I’ll write her.” All at once she was on her feet. “When are you seeing her again?”
“I’m not.”
Nancy fell back onto the sofa. “Why not?”
Darned if Steve could give her an answer. He and Meg had made that decision early on in their conversation, and for the life of him he couldn’t remember why.
“Because,” he growled. “Now leave me alone.”
Nancy threw back her head and laughed. “You like her. You really, really like her.”
Meg sat in the back storeroom and rubbed her aching feet. The new shoes pinched her toes, but this was what she got for buying them half a size too small. They were on sale and she loved them, although the store had been out of size eights. Even knowing her feet would pay the penalty later, Meg had chosen to wear them today.
Laura stuck her head through the door and smiled when she saw her. “A beautiful bouquet of flowers just arrived for you,” she said.
“For me?”
“That’s what the envelope said.”
“Who from?”
“I didn’t read the card, if that’s what you’re asking, but Lindsey’s here and she grabbed it and let out a holler. My guess is the flowers are from Steve.”
“Steve.” Pain or no pain, Meg was on her feet. She hobbled to the front of the store and found her fifteen-year-old daughter grinning triumphantly.
“Steve Conlan sent flowers,” she crowed.
“So I see.” Meg’s fingers shook as she removed the card from the small envelope.
“He said, and I quote, ‘You’re one special woman, Meg Remington. Love, Steve.’”
The bouquet was huge, with at least ten different varieties of flowers all arranged in a white wicker basket. It must have cost him easily a hundred dollars.
“We agreed,” she whispered.
“Agreed to what?” Lindsey prodded.
“That we weren’t going to see each other again.”
“Obviously he changed his mind,” Lindsey said, as excited as if she’d just discovered a twenty-dollar bill in the bottom of her purse.
Unwilling to trust her daughter’s assessment of the situation, Meg stared at her best friend.
“Don’t look at me,” Laura said.
“I’m sure you’re wrong,” Meg said to Lindsey, her heart still beating a little too fast.
“Why else would he send flowers?” Lindsey asked calmly.
“He wanted to say he was glad we met, that’s all. I don’t think we should make something out of this,” she said. “It’s just…a courtesy.”
“Call him,” Lindsey pleaded.
“I most certainly will not!”
“But, Mom, don’t you see? Steve’s saying he likes you, but he doesn’t want to pressure you into anything unless you like him, too.”
“He is?” Whatever confidence she’d felt a moment earlier vanished like ice cream at a Fourth of July picnic.
“The next move is yours.”
“Laura?”
“I wouldn’t know,” her fickle friend said. “I’ve been married to the same man for twenty-six years. All this intrigue is beyond me.”
“I agree with your daughter,” a shy voice said from the other side of the counter. “You should call him.”
It was Meg’s customer, Judith Wilson. Meg wasn’t sure she should listen to the older woman who faithfully purchased romance novels twice a month. Judith was a real romantic and would undoubtedly read more into the gesture than Steve had intended.
“See?” Lindsey said excitedly. “The ball’s in your court. Steve made his move and now he’s waiting for yours.”
Meg didn’t know what to do.
“It’s been three days,” Lindsey reminded her. “He’s had time to think over the situation, and so have you.”
“Call him,” Laura suggested. “If for nothing more than to thank him for the flowers.”
“Yes, call him,” Judith echoed, clutching her bag of books.
“It’s the least you can do.” Once more it was her daughter offering advice.
“All right,” Meg said reluctantly. The flowers were gorgeous, and thanking him would be the proper thing to do.
“I’ll get his work number for you,” Lindsey volunteered, pulling the Yellow Pages from behind the cash register.
The kid had Steve’s shop number faster than directory assistance could have located it.
“I’ll use the phone in the back room,” Meg said. She didn’t need several pairs of ears listening in on her conversation.
She felt everyone’s eyes on her as she hurried into the storeroom. Her hand actually shook as she punched out the telephone number.
“Emerald City,” a gruff male voice answered.
“Hello, this is Meg Remington calling for Steve Conlan.”
“Hold on a minute.”
“Of course.”
A moment later, Steve was on the line. “Meg?”
“Hello, Steve. I know you’re busy, so I won’t take up much of your time. I’m calling to thank you for the flowers.”
A long pause followed
her words. “Flowers? What flowers?”
Three
“You mean you don’t know anything about these flowers?” Meg cried, her voice raised. Steve could see that he hadn’t done a very good job of breaking the news, but he was as shocked as she was.
“If you didn’t send them, who did?” Meg demanded.
It wasn’t difficult to figure that one out. “I can make a wild guess,” he said with heavy sarcasm. He jerked his fingers through his hair, then glanced at the wall clock. It was close to quitting time. “Can you meet me?”
“Why?”
Her blatant lack of enthusiasm irritated him. He’d been thinking about her for three days. Nancy was right—he liked Meg Remington. She was a bit eccentric and a little on the hysterical side, but he was willing to overlook that. During their time together, he’d been struck by her intelligence and her warmth. He’d wished more than once that they’d decided to ignore the way they’d been thrown together and continue to see each other. Apparently Meg suffered no such regrets and was pleased to be rid of him.
“Why do you want to meet?” she repeated, lowering her voice.
“We need to talk.”
“Where?”
“How about a drink? Can you get away from the store in the next hour or so?”
She hesitated. “I’ll try.”
Steve mentioned a popular sports bar in Kent, and she agreed to meet him there at five-thirty. His spirits lifted considerably at the prospect of seeing her again. He must’ve been smiling as he hung up because his foreman, Gary Wilcox, cast him a puzzled look.
“I didn’t know you had yourself a new girlfriend,” Gary said. “When did this happen?”
“It hasn’t.” The last thing Steve needed was Gary feeding false information to his sister. Nancy and her outrageous ideas about marrying him off was enough of a problem, without Gary encouraging it.
“It hasn’t happened yet, you mean,” Gary said, making a notation in the appointment schedule.
Steve glanced over his shoulder, to be sure Gary wasn’t making notes about the conversation he’d had with Meg. He was getting paranoid already. A woman did that to a man, made him jumpy and insecure; he knew that much from past experience.
An hour later Steve sat in the bar, facing a big-screen television with a frosty mug of beer in his hand. The table he’d chosen was in the far corner of the room, where he could easily watch the front door.