Rita Estrada - Million Dollar Valentine

She hoped.

“SO FAR, your floral designs with the wild color combinations have sold like hotcakes!” Standing at the cash register, Linda sounded just a little shocked by that fact as she watched a woman holding one of Crystal’s floral arrangements walk out of the store.

Crystal, standing at the work counter, laughed. “It’s the price, Linda. My creations don’t sell for as much as Aunt Helen’s or yours because they’re not as elaborate.”

“Oh, I’m sure, and the colors aren’t found in the usual Entrée type of arrangements.” She sounded so puzzled that Crystal almost felt sorry for her.

“I know, but you see, customers get to walk out of here with an original from a very exclusive shop and feel as if they got a bargain.”

Linda’s face lit up. “Of course. They get the Entrée name without paying the full Entrée price or getting the Entrée colors.” Her words finally sunk into her own thoughts and her eyes widened. “Oh! I didn’t mean that your efforts weren’t good! I mean, they must be or they wouldn’t have sold at all and they’d still be sitting on the shelf and not being sold….”

Crystal gave her new friend a hug. “Don’t worry. I understand what you’re trying to say and I appreciate it. But I know they’re not the same as what the store usually stocks.”

Then yet another customer came up to the counter with one of Crystal’s creations and set it down. Without saying a word, she pulled out her Visa card and offered it in payment.

“The yellow, blue and cream,” Linda said, as amazed as she’d been earlier.

It took everything Crystal had to make sure she didn’t laugh aloud. “That will be thirty-six dollars,” she said as she ran the card through the machine.

Within seconds she had a funny feeling. A very distinct and definite funny feeling.

Blake was close by.

She handed the woman a pen while her gaze searched the front door area. But she’d waited too late to spot him there. He was already inside the shop and standing to the right of the register area, studying one of her creations with a quizzical look on his somber handsome face. Obviously, he didn’t understand the attraction, either.

Crystal would have bet that the colors and design were just a little too wild for Blake to take a liking to. It wasn’t his taste at all. Just like its creator.

Just then, he looked up and locked eyes with her. He stared at her as deeply as he had examined the arrangement. Just for a change of pace—and to shock him a little by proving she could do it if she wanted to—Crystal had worn makeup at full war-paint level and had wrapped her hair to the top back of her head, securing it with an Oriental hair pin. It ached to be let loose and fall and tumble about her shoulders. Small, golden tendrils curled around her hairline, emphasizing her features. Then she topped it off with a short-skirted navy suit with a bright-red blouse. And high—very high—heels.

It was an occasion. She donned this outfit maybe once a year and reveled in the double takes she got from people who knew her. Until Blake said something about it, she wasn’t going to comment, either. But his reaction was worth a thousand words. She just wanted to prove she could look the executive when she wanted to. He’d probably never see it again.

“Are you here to identify me in a lineup, or to take me to lunch?” she asked casually while separating the paper receipts. She turned back to her customer before he could answer. “Thank you for your business, and if we can help you customize an arrangement, please let us know. We’ll be glad to make one with your personal colors.”

“Thank you,” the woman said delightedly. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“So, you remembered we were having lunch today?” he asked, after the customer had left the store.

“Of course. I was just waiting for you to tell me where to meet you.” She grinned. “You could have saved yourself the trip and called with the info. I could have met you.”

His gaze wandered down her body, straying here and there and causing heat to rise in her like sap in spring. It was supposed to be the other way around. She was supposed to light his fire. But he never cracked a smile at her choice of wardrobe. “I always pick up my dates.”

“In that case, Blake, I’m ready.” Ignoring his formality, she moved over to his side, took his arm and gave a short wave to Linda, who was watching as if there was nothing else going on in the world.

“Where are we going?” Crystal said as they passed through the store and into the mall area.

He tightened his arm at his side as if to keep and capture her hand. “To my office. Do you mind?”

Crystal stopped and, unwilling to let her go, Blake stopped with her, waiting for her to speak.

“Are you attempting to ravish my body during lunch without permission?” she asked, cautiously.

A light flared in his deep-blue eyes. “No. I’d never do that.”

Darn. He was still in control and still building tension between them. Blake was some kinda guy. “Are your intentions honorable?”

His sculpted mouth twitched. “Of course.”

She laughed softly. “Liar.”

“That’s not true. If I say it, I mean it.” He finally let a small smile through. “Although I can only guarantee now, Ms. Tynan. I can’t guarantee later.”

An almost joke. He was warming up, and warming up her heart, too. She tugged on his arm. “Let’s go, then. You can’t do anything without getting between me and my food. I won’t stand for it.”

“Now I know where your priorities lie,” he said, his steady gait once more leading her toward his office.

She kept pace by taking two rickety steps to every one he took. But she wasn’t going to admit how hard it was for her to walk on stilts. Instead, she continued to trip along. “You seem like the kind of guy who always knew where you stood. Since the age of two, anyway.”

“What makes you say that?” he asked, obviously surprised at her observation.

“Because you’re so controlled. So…” she began.

“Rigid?” His husky voice sounded as dry as dust.

This wasn’t the time to lie. After all, she didn’t know him well enough to lie, yet. For something like that, you had to have a history and want to save someone’s feelings. “So you know.”

“If I didn’t know before, I’ve got that feeling now.”

“From me?” she asked.

He held open the office glass door. Marilyn wasn’t at her desk. “Especially from you.” He took her arm and led her firmly past his office into the conference room.

“I’m so sorry if I…” Crystal stopped. The walnut conference table had a thick, white tablecloth draped over one end. The table was set formally, right down to crystal water glasses. “Oh, my,” she breathed.

She had expected cafeteria food on a tray or from a metal basket lined with paper. Or maybe sandwiches in clear, plastic sleeves. But this…well, this was far more than she’d imagined. The privacy, good linens, formal setting—all, made it so very special.

Plain white containers covered in shiny metal sat in front of the place settings. Crystal lifted a cover and sniffed. Then lifted another cover and sniffed again before looking over her shoulder at the man who watched her so intently. It smelled heavenly. “Thai?”

“Vietnamese.”

Her eyes lit up. “Um, spicy.”

“Yes.” He grinned. “I figured it fit you.” His slow grin was catching, to say nothing about sexy as all-get-out.

She gave a short curtsy, proud of herself for not letting her stiletto heels tip her over. “Thank you.”

Blake pulled out a side chair and offered her the seat. Feeling like the princess in a fairy tale, Crystal took it. Blake sat at the end of the table and reached for his napkin. Crystal followed suit, a little slower than Blake. She was so conscious of his every move—until the tantalizing scent of well-prepared food wafted her way again and reminded her stomach just how hungry she was.