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done, with her treasures rehung. Her personal
space was shaping up, and so was she. She ran for
her health at least three days a week now, but
walked on the non-running days for at least thirty
minutes in order to unwind. She was stopping to
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smell the roses figuratively, of course, because she
was allergic to most flowers but she appreciated
their beauty.
One area of her life continued to stink, but she
couldn t fault anyone else for it. She accepted that
she d blown her chance with Jackson, despite their
last, poignant coupling. For a while, she d hoped he
might attempt to see her again, but she wasn t
surprised when he didn t. He d even turned down
her offers of work, and after a week of hearing his
refusals, she d stopped asking him. The suit, now
dropped, had probably been the last straw for him.
She sipped her diet soda, thinking about how
things had turned out.
While Lena wasn t actively looking for a
boyfriend yet, she tried to remain open to
possibilities. One of her suppliers had begun flirting
mildly with her. He didn t interest her romantically,
but the bantering they engaged in helped her
develop needed flirting skills. Heck, just being
friends with a man strained her abilities, but she
was trying. She was trying hard, partly because
Annie had asked her to.
Her cell phone interrupted her reverie, but she
recognized the number. Hi, Elyse.
Hello, dear. I need you to cater an engagement
party.
Yours and Bobby s engagement?
Let s just say an engagement, for now.
Her tone of voice was coy. Lena wondered
whose engagement it could be, if not Elyse s and
Bobby s. Will this be the party I traded for the
Range Rover?
Yes, it will. However, one teensy little detail
you should know is that Bobby insists you and
Yankee Elegance Catering work together on it.
Forget it. Jackson closed his business, and he
refuses to work with me. I m tired of banging my
head against that wall.
Even though that wall is all my fault.
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Your end of the deal was to give me the party
of my choice in exchange for transportation. All the
conditions were left at my discretion, except for the
number of people involved. I have it in writing. You
must do this.
Lena rose from the back stairs and paced the
yard while talking. Elyse, please, please reconsider.
I won t back out on our agreement, but working
with him well, maybe Bobby needs to lean on him
to make it happen. I can t.
No. You must do this, she repeated.
Lena sighed, shaking her head. All right, I ll try
one more time with him, but if he won t work with
me, I won t be able to do a damned thing about it. I
hope you understand that.
Of course, dear.
How many people? What do you want, when,
and where?
It won t be a society party. Just a few of my
closest friends. Let s say twenty-five. We ll hold it in
my home I have a large dining room that will suit
the occasion perfectly. Are you free tomorrow night
at eight?
Mentally, she waved goodbye to her first free
weekend in months. At least, she d have Sunday
off. Okay. Saturday night, eight. What do you want
to serve?
Jackson should create the appetizers and take
care of the drinks. I want you to make tea
sandwiches and light deserts, except for the cake.
The two of you will bake and decorate the cake
together. No words on it, though. That s declassé.
What? Lena yelped. Jackson can t bake for
squat, at least compared to me. And have you
forgotten that he probably won t work with me?
Why are you demanding that he help me with the
cake?
Not help, dear. Co-create. I insist on it.
Elyse, forgive me, but this plan sounds really
dumb. Why are you forcing me into this?
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I told you. It s not me; it s Bobby. Please be a
sweetheart and go along. Besides, she added,
Jackson s already said yes.
Lena lost her grip on her soda and nearly
dropped her phone. He has?
___________________
No! That s final.
Aw, Jackson, you know you d enjoy it, Bobby
said. You need to be coaxed like a shy virgin? You
need more money?
I d do the job by myself for free because you re
my best friend, but no amount of money could
convince me to work with Psycho Dream Woman
again. I d rather stick my hand in a whirling food
processor.
Who?
Jackson rubbed his face, scowling. Lena. That s
just my affectionate name for her.
But she s already agreed to work with you. You
two are gonna bake a cake together.
Oh, God, not a cake. I ll be reduced to gofer
status while she creates.
Won t that keep her off your back? She works,
you fetch. Besides, just a few weeks ago, you were
so hot for her that you were sweating the fact that
you d run out after sex because you took that call
from your lawyer. Remember the night we fought
over the Scotch, and how I suggested massive
amounts of flowers and candy to soothe any ruffled
feathers on her part?
My nose hurt for days, Jackson muttered.
Yeah, well, tough. So did my jaw. And you
started it. What happened to your plan to win her
back?
I woke up with a monster hangover but a
clearer head. The woman s refusal to work with me,
for no damned reason that made sense to anyone
but her, was the sole explanation for all my
troubles. Because of her, A, the food became
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contaminated, and B, I got sued. For a few days,
anyway.
And thank God that little prick Bradley s plan
backfired on him. The FBI arrested him and his
cohorts, and you were cleared one hundred
percent.
I say, thank God one of the rats turned on the
others and confessed all to the Feds. If you re
pissed at the guys who run the place you work, you
get another job, or report them if they re doing
something illegal. You don t poison the entire board,
hoping to kill a few. Jesus, what wackos.
You can be sure Bradley s no longer on my
Christmas card list. But I never understood why he
wanted both of you to cater.
Jackson rubbed his neck. Way I understand it,
he figured the two of us would distract each other
with our bickering while he did the poisoning. Or
something idiotic like that. What I can t believe is
that the CEO s administrative assistant was the one
who masterminded the whole thing and bought the
salmonella, let alone that she and Bradley were
knocking boots.
Yeah, she s a hottie with a number on her
prison duds now. Personally, I don t know what she
saw in the toad, either. But back to Lena, whom
you re now free to have. What s wrong with you,
boy? The best woman who ever came into your life
wants you, and you re holding a little thing like a
canceled lawsuit against her?
There s also the fact that she single-handedly
killed Yankee Elegance Catering. Jackson crossed
his arms, staring at the floor, the emotions flooding
through him throwing him off-balance. He did want
her. Why didn t he do something about it?
Bobby snorted. You ve been cleared. Public
apologies have been made. You even locked up a
grateful UniMed s catering business for the next
decade. Your business is hardly dead.
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Maybe I don t want to be in the catering
business any more. Maybe I want to move
someplace else, get a fresh start.
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