The Groom's Revenge

“Oh. I guess I assumed they lived in California.”

“They do. That’s why you’ll need a computer.”

Molhe frowned. Her world had stopped making sense the moment Gray had dropped into her life, the man-who didn’t know he’d helped her bury her grief. But not only did his request not make sense, it was downright ridiculous. Not just quirky. Ridiculous. Absurd. Preposterous.

So why did she just want to say okay without questioning his motives? Surely he had motives.

“You must have a choice of a hundred party planners where you live,” she said.

“Last month I attended a charity ball here in Minneapolis. You were one of the sponsors.”

“How do you know that?”

“I won one of the table centerpieces. A basket decorated with dried flowers. Very original. Your business card was taped to the bottom ” He pulled it out of his pocket and showed her. “I shipped the basket to my mother the next day, because I thought it was something she would like. And she did. Obviously you’re the right person for the job.”

The phone rang. She watched him peel off a packing slip from one of the computer boxes as she handled a frantic caller requesting a dozen long-stemmed red roses for a just-remembered anniversary. Yes, she had some on hand, she told the man with the stress-filled voice. Yes, roses were expensive, but his wife was priceless, wasn’t she? Yes, she took Mastercard. Yes, he could pick them up in half an hour.

Gray looked at his watch no less than five tunes in the few minutes she was on the phone.

After she hung up she moved to the refrigerator case and lifted out a tall vase filled with roses, then grabbed some baby’s breath, lemon leaves and leather fern.

She lined a long gold-foil box with forest green tissue paper, a task that soothed her with its familiarity. In a world turned upside down, she needed routine. “Why me?” she asked.

“Because I’ve seen and admired your work, as I said. And because you’re from home.”

“Here?” She’d stripped the lower stems of thorns and leaves before putting them in the refrigerator. Grabbing her paring knife, she made an angle cut at the bottom of each stem before sliding it into a water-filled tube. Gray wandered close to watch.

“My mother and stepfather were born in Minneapolis,” he said, his gaze following her hands as she worked. “So was I.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“Is there a reason why you should?”

She layered roses, greenery and baby’s breath in the box. “I suppose not. I’m just surprised. Still, that’s hardly enough reason to put me in charge of a party that will take place so far from here. It’s not practical. Or are you planning to have the party here?”

“No. It’ll be near where they live in Atherton. That’s in Northern California, near what’s called the Silicon Valley. Near Stanford University.”

“When?”

“April twentieth.”

She dropped the length of ribbon she’d just snipped. “April as in next year? Nine months from now?”

“Does that give you enough time?”

“Gee, I don’t know, Gray. That might be cutting it awfully close.” She swiped the ribbon from the floor, then formed a big loopy, red bow.

“I figured we’d need to reserve the facility well in advance I expect several hundred people to attend.”

“What does it have to do with my having a computer?” she asked, chagrined that he was right.

“It’s the best way of staying in touch to handle the details.”

She looked up at him for a second, then focused on attaching the ribbon to the box. “You do remember we have telephones here in Minneapolis, right? And fax machines.”

“I prefer e-mail.”

“You would,” she mumbled.

“What was that?”

She could hear the smile in his voice and tried to decide whether she liked being a source of entertainment for him. “I said, ‘Oh, good.’”

“Are you interested in handling the party?”

“Of course I’m interested.” She set the box of roses in the refrigerator. “It’s just that I still can’t figure out why you’d use me. I’m new at this, plus the distance.”

“You won’t grow your business with that attitude.”

She laughed. “Grow my business?”

“Standard business terminology,” he said, although he smiled.

“I’d have to hire help for the shop.”

“Build it into your budget for the job.”

“I need to think about this.”

He put his hands in his pockets. “There’s no time to think about it. I won’t be in town for long. I need to set up your computer and teach you the basics before I go.”

Mollie skirted around him, deciding she needed the safety of the counter between them. Standing close to him had just made her want to kiss him even more. He had the most appealing mouth....

“I can take computer classes,” she said, dragging her invoice pad close and writing up a bill for the roses.

“I want to be the one to teach you.”

“Of course you do.”

Gray waited until she stopped writing and looked up at him. Had he come on too strong? Had she picked up on the intensity of his pursuit, even as he tried to go slow with her, to be casual? “Do I make you nervous, Mollie? Yesterday you talked to me like an old friend.”

“Yesterday you weren’t real.” She made a little sound, as if regretting her words. “I mean, the situation didn’t seem real. Your being here. What are the odds?”

“I already explained that. And you’re making this difficult, Mollie Shaw.”

Her eyes sparkled at his comment.

“I would’ve figured you for a man who likes a challenge, Gray McGuire. So, here’s the way it’ll work. I’ll use the computer until the party is over, then if I find I want to keep it, I’ll buy it from you.”