Rita Estrada - Million Dollar Valentine

“It was the most fun I’ve had with my clothes on.” Crystal got a slap on the bottom for that wild remark.

Instead of commenting on the hit, she took the matching chair, propped up her feet and leaned back, loving the luxury of doing nothing. “It’s a great little store. I brought the receipts home with me so you can show me what to deposit and how to call in the charges, then enter them into Hugo, over there.” She aimed her chin toward the computer hidden in the armoire section of the wall unit. “Were you so afraid of my cooking you had to put yourself through hours in the kitchen?”

“Not at all,” Aunt Helen said calmly. “Michael brought over a pie, Kenneth and his daughter made a pot roast with potatoes and carrots, and Mab, next door, just made homemade rolls.” She grinned. “So we have dinner compliments of my friends.”

“How nice. Better still, what nice friends.” Crystal meant it. Her aunt seemed to draw people to her like moths to a flame. It was no wonder, she had warmth and a sense of fun that was contagious.

“I’m lucky, and in more than one way, darling. Most of the men my age are looking for a wife, and they’re ready to do whatever it takes to have one so they’re not alone.”

“And you’re willing to help them in this?”

“Not at all. I don’t have time,” her aunt replied calmly.

“No? Come on,” Crystal said, disbelieving.

Her aunt sighed dramatically. “So many men, so little time.”

“I can’t believe you really said that.”

Aunt Helen chuckled. “Don’t worry. It’s not true. I’m a widow and at an age when most single men are getting panicked because they don’t have someone to take care of them in their old age. They’re beating the bushes at the same time they’re showing eligible women how self-sufficient they are.”

“And are you?” Crystal said, finally stirring enough to realize her aunt probably needed a little something to drink. “Eligible, I mean.”

“Never. Not on a bet.” The older woman laughed. “I’m not about to ruin a good thing by allowing someone to think of me as a wife instead of a marvelous, seductive woman to be sought and captured…almost.”

Crystal stretched and sat up. It had been a long day. “Can I get you a glass of ice water?”

“No, thank you. I already drank enough to make a camel jealous.” She watched her niece walk into the kitchen. “Check the pot roast would you?”

Crystal did, then came out with two glasses of white Chablis. “Dinner will be ready whenever you are, Aunt Helen.” She handed her aunt one of the glasses.

“So, tell me about your day,” Helen asked eagerly as she took a sip of the cooled wine. “Did you meet Blake yet?”

“I certainly did. He’s as handsome as you said he was, but with very little humor and even less of an easy manner. In fact, he was the most uptight man I’ve ever met.”

“Blake?” Her aunt sounded confused.

That obviously wasn’t strong enough to make an impression on her aunt. Crystal decided she had to emphasize the fact that she felt cheated by his attitude. “Even the millionaires I work with aren’t that uptight.”

Helen’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Blake?” she repeated.

“Blake,” Crystal reaffirmed. “I spent half an hour with him this morning, then we walked around the mall a little.”

“Walked around the mall?” Now Aunt Helen sounded downright disbelieving.

Crystal nodded then continued. “In all that time, he smiled twice—well maybe three times. But that was it. The rest of the time he looked at me as if I were a two-day-old fish.”

“I’m so surprised,” Helen stated. “He’s always been so warm and fun with me. Although we’ve never walked around the mall, we’ve been friends ever since we first met.”

“Maybe he’s interested in you,” Crystal suggested. The words didn’t taste any better on her tongue than the thought had.

“If he was,” Helen stated, “it’s the best kept secret in the mall. Even I don’t know about it. But then, there’s too much of an age difference between us.”

“Men and women have had eighteen-year age differences before, and overcame it.”

“Yes, but not women and men. This is a different difference, and I’m not willing to have a relationship with someone that young any more than I’m willing to have one with someone that much older than I am.”

Crystal giggled.

“Now stop ignoring the topic of conversation and tell me what else happened with Blake.”

“Not much.” Crystal gave a shrug and glanced out the back window at the sharp edge of forest. “All he did was give me disapproving looks and tell me what he thought was wrong with my way of thinking.”

“Now, I wonder why I don’t believe that.” Her aunt didn’t meet her eyes. Instead, she rearranged her scarf. “You spent a long time with the man. Longer than anyone else he doesn’t know.”

“Really?” she asked, trying to ignore the flash of delight her aunt’s words delivered. “I didn’t notice. It’s probably because of his friendship with you.”

“Of course,” Helen stated dryly. “Why didn’t I think of that? You’re my niece so he’s sworn to spend an hour with you because he is worried about me. It’s his way of sending greetings instead of visits or dinner.”

“Well, it really doesn’t matter,” Crystal stated airily as she stood and walked toward the kitchen. “He’s just a friend of yours who, in his own stiff way, tried to be friendly to me for the day. It’s over and now I’ll get us dinner.”

“Methinks, my niece, that you doth protest too much,” Helen said, a lilt in her tone.

“Methinks, my aunt, that you have a problem perceiving relationship problems.” She refused to mention she was having lunch with Blake tomorrow. It was a secret she wanted to keep to herself for a little while longer.

They ate while watching the news, each one easy with the other’s presence. It was relaxing and nice, reminding Crystal of her teenage years when her own mother had died and Helen had become her surrogate mom. It had been a rough time, but Aunt Helen had made it bearable.

But dancing in the back of Crystal’s mind were some of the windows she’d seen in the mall. She wanted to try her hand at something different than the ordinary and average. She wasn’t sure how, yet. But if she studied the problem, it would come to her.

Solutions always did.

Half an hour after the news, she kissed her aunt good-night. “I’ll see you in the morning, dear. If you need me, call and I’ll hear you.”

“I’ll be fine, Crystal. I broke my arm, not my head. And I feel frustrated enough not being able to the do what I want,” the older woman groused. “Just give me another week or two, and I’ll find my stride again.”

“I’ll give you six weeks, Aunt. No less,” she promised, leaning over and giving her a kiss on the cheek. “See you tomorrow.”

But after Crystal was in her bedroom at the end of the hall for fifteen minutes, she found herself too keyed up to be able to sleep. No matter what, her thoughts wound back to Blake and their talk. She relived everything he said and did. Every movement he made. Every emotion that he brought out in her. And she became more awake by the minute.

He was so frustrating. Was there a wild, devil-may-care bone in his body? Did he ever run naked through his apartment? What about belly laughs that massaged his every organ?

Forcing herself to focus on something else, she lit one of the scented candles she’d brought with her from Santa Fe and sat cross-legged in the center of her bed. With her hands palms up and open to all kinds of possibilities, she took several deep breaths to cleanse her body of all the pent-up carbon monoxide she’d cultivated all day. After a few minutes, she did her transcendental meditation. If it was good enough for half the doctors in the world to proclaim it as calming medication for the heart, then it was good enough for her to quickly erase the provocative image of a more free, spontaneous, Blake Wright running through a field of mountain flowers in joyous abandon—naked.