Snowdrop Kisses Part Five
A Christmas love story featuring a plucky florist and a tall dark and handsome entrepreneur
Previously … in Part 4 Wendy learns that LCC will be holding a big holiday party and James learns that Wendy didn’t mix up the bouquets.
Chapter 9
Wendy hurried down the alley beside her shop toward the parking lot. The wind was sharp and biting though the promised snow had yet to materialise. An Ottawa winter was much more bearable when a white blanket transformed the landscape, softening the bare tree limbs and covering up old cigarette butts. They’d had a bit of snow, but not enough to really transform anything.
Wendy worried as she hurried. With Christmas approaching they should be getting more business. Next to the summer wedding season, the holidays were the store’s busiest time, but the orders weren’t coming in at the same rate as last year. She wondered if she should use some of her slim profits for advertising. It was always a crapshoot if such an investment resulted in more clients. What she really needed was a big order, like a wedding, but with only a few weeks until Christmas, there was no chance of that. It certainly didn’t help business when she antagonized regular customers like James Crofton.
Lost in her own concerns, she didn’t hear the sound of footsteps behind her until she was tapped on the shoulder. It was dark and the alley deserted. Adrenaline shot through her limbs and instinct took over. She whirled around, fists at the ready.
Uppercut. Cross. Jab.
It took her a moment to realize she wasn’t hitting some terrifying mugger, but James Crofton. “What are you doing here?” she said, stumbling back. Her heart pounded in her ears and her breathing was rapid. Anxiety made her voice sharp. “Don’t creep up like that!”
His hands covered his face and his voice was muffled. “Do you always come out swinging?”
Now that her adrenaline was ebbing, she regretted her aggression. “You --You caught me by surprise.”
“Well, you pack a helluva punch.” He removed his hands. His smile was lopsided, but his nose was bloody.
“Oh no, I’ve hurt you.” Wendy’s fear and annoyance evaporated and she rushed forward, fumbling for a tissue from her bag. “Here.” She was close enough to breathe in his odour — a mix of expensive cologne and something indefinable but absolutely male. “It looks like I’ve stained another one of your shirts.” Two scarlet drops marred his collar.
“Don’t worry about it. I knew I was coming to meet you, so I wore an old one.” He removed the tissue from his face. “See, stopped bleeding already. Probably because I’ve got no heart.” His eyes sparkled.
Was he flirting? Wendy’s heart did a funny little flip flop. Then she realized this was exactly what she feared: she’d been out of the dating pool so long she was drowning at the first flirtatious look a guy threw at her. She kept her voice professional. “I am sorry about your nose. I guess I absorbed more than I realised in my kickboxing class. What can I do for you?”
“I want to apologize for what I said the other day.”
Her first instinct was to offer her own apology. After all, she’d been rehashing and regretting her impetuous words since Friday. She stifled the urge, however. Crofton had been rude and aggressive, and she wanted to hear him say it. She quirked an eyebrow and stayed silent.
“Kim told me that she was the one who mixed up the flowers. Not you.”
This was just what she feared would happen. “You shouldn’t fire her for that,” Wendy said quickly. “It was a one-time mistake.”
Crofton looked taken aback. “Of course I’m not firing Kim. She’s my right-hand woman.”
“Oh.” His face held such surprise that Wendy felt foolish. He seemed so angry on Friday and she assumed that anger would make him vindictive and punitive, but she’d misjudged him. Her explanation was defensive. “You were in a firing mood on Friday. I knew I could get by without your business, but I doubted Kim could manage without a paycheck.”
“That’s very generous, but you shouldn’t be so soft-hearted. You need to be tough to succeed.”
Wendy jutted out her chin. “I stick by my friends.”
Crofton met her eye. “I believe you. Let me take you out to dinner, to apologize for flying off the handle.”
OK, so that was definitely flirtatious. She was tempted to say yes. James Crofton was handsome and smooth and confident. Problem was, she had had her heart ripped out by exactly that kind of guy before. She wasn’t going to make that mistake again. As his “love ‘em and leave ‘em” bouquets proved, he was more interested in the conquest than her as a person. “No thanks, Mr. Crofton, I’m busy.”
“Come on,” he persisted. “Just a quick dinner. I feel terrible about what I said.”
She quirked an eyebrow. He was laying it on a bit thick. “Is that right?”
He looked offended. “You don’t believe me?”
“Powerful businessmen don’t usually care that much if their florist’s feelings are hurt. I suspect you have an ulterior motive.” There had been a current of sexual tension pulsing through their previous meeting. This guy was interested in more than her gladioli.
He laughed. “You’re right. There is something I want from you.”
Again, that little thrill of excitement zipped down her spine. She wondered what it would feel like to be swept up in his seduction.
He glanced around the alley, “This isn’t the place to discuss it, though. I think you’ll be more amenable with a glass of wine and some soft candlelight…”
“A date?” she said.
“No, no,” he said quickly. “A business meeting. Strictly business.”
Ugh. She had completely misread things. Heat flushed her cheeks and she looked down. He hadn’t been flirting after all. Of course he wasn’t. Men like Crofton didn’t date women like her. She took a deep breath and spoke crisply. “I won’t go to dinner with you.” She’d be a fool not to listen to his business proposition, however. “We can walk on the path by the canal. I need to stretch my legs after standing all day.”
“What?” he asked. “A walk? Now?”
It was too late, however. Wendy was already striding towards Strathcona Avenue. Crofton was forced to follow.
They reached the Rideau Canal pathway and paused for a moment. It was lovely. The street lamps were decorated with tinsel sleigh bells and red bows, which blew in the gentle breeze. The lights were just starting to come on, their reflections dancing like silver stars on the water’s dark surface.
The canal was low in preparation for the freezing that would allow it to become a long skateway. Crofton slipped on the icy path and Wendy glanced down. His expensive boots looked good, but didn’t have the giant treads that enabled her to march with confidence on the slick walkway. Good. This guy was dangerous and it was smart to keep him literally off-balance as they discussed his business idea. Wendy’s years with Martin had made her very sensitive to an impending male con.
Crofton leaped out of the way as a winter cyclist barrelled past, bell ringing officiously. He regained his balance and cleared his throat. “I apologize for being so irritable the other day. I behaved very badly. I hope you can forgive me.” He paused, obviously expecting Wendy to proffer her own apology.
She was determined not to give him the satisfaction. “We all give in to our baser instincts sometimes.”
His eyes turned a stormy gray. Wendy enjoyed watching him struggle to control his annoyance. He swallowed hard. “Yes. I guess we do.” He forced a smile.
Wendy grinned. He’s probably given in to his baser instincts more times than he can count. “Listen, Mr. Crofton. You’re a very important man. I’m sure you’ve got better things to do than hang out with me. Why are you here, really?”
They sat down on a bench by the canal. Wendy’s long parka protected her tush from the cold seat, she could only assume that Crofton, in a short jacket, wasn’t as comfortable. The idea delighted her.
“OK. I’ll tell you my ulterior motive.”
Wendy waited. Her stomach clenching with sudden worry. What if he was going to do a hostile takeover of Love’s Bouquet? What even was a hostile takeover?
“I think you know Harry Hepple? He owns a bed and breakfast near here?”
This was not what she was expecting and she could only nod.
Crofton continued, “He was a very good friend of my father’s, but I’m worried about him. He’s lonely. He and Helen would have celebrated their fiftieth wedding wedding anniversary this weekend. She passed away five years ago. I think Harry should meet someone new. I want you to help me set him up with someone.”
“Huh?” Of all the possible things Crofton could have proposed, she was not expecting octogenarian matchmaking. “Harry’s tough and can look after himself.”
“Beneath that crusty exterior beats the heart of a shy, retiring man who just needs the love of a good woman.”
Wendy snorted. “No, beneath Harry’s grouchy exterior beats an equally grouchy heart. I thought you said you knew him well. What are you really after, Crofton?”
He hesitated. “Fine, I’ll tell you.” He relayed his problems with Minna Smythe. “I’m meant to be defending my decision to initiate an on-site daycare tomorrow. According to Minna, tending to employees’ childcare needs is a passing fad, and I should be using that money to up my profits. Will you help?”
Wendy smiled broadly. “While I feel for your terrible plight, I’m mostly enjoying the thought of someone making you miserable.” She stood.
“Wait.” Crofton was pleading now. “I built this company from scratch. It’s been a tough struggle. I think you know what that’s like. I’ve made a deal with a devil, and now I need an angel to save me.” He stared at her with a puppy-dog gaze.
Wendy had softened as he spoke, until he got to his last cheesy line. He was too slick. “I don’t like the idea of using Harry to get you out of some business mess.”
“I respect your integrity. Despite what you think of me, I wouldn’t involve Harry unless I thought he and Minna might be a good fit. I’d never intentionally hurt him; he was there for my father throughout his final illness. I owe him a lot.”
His eyes flashed with pain when he spoke of his father, and Wendy knew he was sincere. She thought of her own visit with Harry on Friday. He had looked tired, haggard and a little lost. Crofton might be right. She sat back down on the bench. “I’ve noticed that Harry’s been spending more time at the shop, like he doesn’t want to go home. That still doesn’t mean he should be thrown to the lions.”
“Minna is forceful, but Harry needs a challenge. He doesn’t want some soft-eyed lady, worried about the temperature of the tea or whether her cats are happy.”
Wendy almost smiled. “Fine, I’ll help, but I need something in return.”
“What do you want?”
Wendy laughed at the nervousness she saw in his face.
Chapter 10
“In return for helping you pair up Minna and Harry,” Wendy paused, enjoying the look of fear growing in Crofton’s eyes, ”I want to do the flowers for your upcoming party.”
“The LCC Holiday Event?” He looked surprised. “That’s not my decision. My Coms Department manages that.”
“You’re the boss, Mr. Crofton. I’m sure you can tell them that you’ve got a fantastic flower shop in mind.” She could see him formulating excuses, so she continued. “Otherwise, you can look somewhere else for help with your match-making.”
He paused before answering. “Can you handle it? It’s a gala event.”
Wendy bristled. “Love's Bouquet is small, but we’re the best. This is my chance to put the store on the map.”
He stared at her with an unreadable look. “I take back anything I said about your business instincts. You’re good.”
“We’ve got a deal then?”
He nodded. “I’ll let my Director of Communications know, and I’ll call you with the details tomorrow.”
“Perfect.” Wendy smiled and he grinned back. Mmm, you could drown in those blue eyes. She forced her mind back to business. “So how are we going to get Harry and Minna to fall in love?”
Crofton looked flummoxed. “I have no idea. You’re the woman, surely you know how to do this.”
Before Wendy could reply, his phone pinged. He glanced down at the text message and she couldn’t help sneaking a peek. It was from Norah: “C U tonight…I’ve bought a teddy.”
He had been trying to dump Norah when the bouquets got muddled. Apparently he’d had a change of heart. The thought made her irritable and she spoke in a clipped tone. “So, Minna and Harry. Generally, people have to spend some time together, get to know one another.”
“Maybe they could go out to dinner.”
“That would be perfect. Except, I doubt Harry would agree to a blind date.”
“Yeah, and Minna is clinging to me like a barnacle on a ship.”
“We need to ease them into a meeting.”
“Like trick them, somehow?”
Wendy frowned. She didn’t like that framing. “Not a trick exactly, but since you know both of them, why don’t you get Minna and Harry to meet you at a restaurant? Then they can talk.”
“Oh no! I’m not going to be the third wheel at an awkward first date. If we’re doing this, then you’re coming too.”
“What? How are we going to explain my being there? I’m not going to ask Harry out on a date.”
Crofton furrowed his brow in thought and then spoke excitedly. “You don’t have to. We can tell him that he’s won an in-store promotion. The grand prize, God help him, is a dinner out with you!”
Wendy ignored the jibe. “How do we convince him that he won a contest he never entered?”
“A visit in that ridiculous Santa outfit might do the trick. It can be a holiday giveaway.”
“Ridiculous? I’ll have you know that costume has been getting rave reviews all over town.” Wendy glowered at him.
Crofton laughed. “No one in their right mind would pay to see you in that baggy get-up. Now if you pared the costume down significantly…”
Wendy flushed red and stood. “Did you seriously just say that? We’ve just agreed to work together. That’s sexual harassment, you ass.”
He stood as well, his cheeks also reddened “I didn’t mean it in a sexy way. I meant that stupid suit was way too big for you. You looked like a little girl playing dress up.”
Wendy’s anger evaporated and she felt deeply embarrassed. How could she have thought he was making a cheap come on? She knew how she looked in that dingy suit and it was a far cry from sexy. She didn’t reveal her emotions, however, preserving her dignity by faking her anger. “Well, good. I don’t need a man like you complicating my life. This is going to be strictly business.”
“Don’t worry, you’re not my type.”
Wendy should have felt relief at hearing his words instead she was piqued. She turned and walked swiftly down the path, back to the street.
Crofton hurried after her. “Listen, Wendy, can’t we try to get along, for Harry’s sake?”
Again, he looked sincere. For all his faults, she could see that he cared about the older man. “Okay, Crofton. Let’s try not to rub each other the wrong way.” As soon as she said those suggestive words, she could have bitten off her tongue. She stared at him, but he seemed oblivious to the double entendre. Good lord, was she inadvertently sexually harassing him?
“Exactly, we can be professional about this.” He stuck out his hand. Wendy grasped it, shaking on their new partnership.
They walked back to her vehicle, finalizing their plans for Saturday night. She clambered in the passenger side of the car and wiggled over to the driver’s seat. He raised an eyebrow as he watched her manoeuvring.
Once in the seat, she rolled down the window and leaned her elbow out. “I’ll deliver the flowers to Harry tomorrow, and we’ll get things rolling for Saturday.”
“Perfect. It take his mind off his impending anniversary and get Harry out of the house.”
“Out of the house and into what?” Wendy inquired as she started the car.
Crofton had to raise his voice to be heard above the high-pitched whine of the motor. “You worry too much. This will be a cakewalk.” He waved her off, and she left him standing in the blue fumes sputtered out by her car’s exhaust.
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