9. Chapter 9
April
M iller respected Wren’s wish to move slowly, but that didn’t mean he made it easy on her. He’d stop in just to chat or bring her coffee and a treat from the bakery. A look. A touch. Stolen kisses in the backroom that left her wanting more, even though she didn’t think her heart could handle more. They were short term only, so Wren kept her true feelings for Miller hidden.
She brought out the ice maiden when she needed protection and tossed out a few “Counselors” to add additional emotional distance. That technique worked well since it reminded her of Miller’s goal to be partner. She wanted him to make his goal, but she wanted no part of it.
Several times she’d suggested he should take Michelle Swanson out to dinner or lunch. Mentioning Michelle also kept Wren’s defenses in place. Michelle was another reminder of what Miller wanted in the long term, and it had the added benefit of upsetting him whenever she suggested it. He insisted he and Michelle were nothing but colleagues, and even if he wasn’t in a relationship with Wren, he wouldn’t be in one with Michelle. Wren would then dig herself further into a hole by arguing that dating Michelle would be a surefire plan to get partnership in a family-owned law firm. Miller tended to end the why-don’t-you-date-Michelle arguments by kissing Wren senseless, a technique she couldn’t argue with.
Wren’s brain advocated short term, but her heart lobbied for long term. I don’t know whether I’m comin’ or goin’. She was staring out the front window, analyzing this for what felt like the gazillionth time, when Trouble walked in.
“Counselor.”
“Florist,” he greeted with equal coolness. He ruined the frosty atmosphere by leaning over the counter and kissing her thoroughly until she melted. “So, there’s this thing next week—” “Your firm’s fiftieth anniversary on Saturday?”
“Yes, how’d you know?”
“Big shindig with centerpieces.” She pointed to herself. “Florist.”
“Right, anyway, come with me.”
“Take Michelle.” Wren leaned away from the counter out of his reach.
“I don’t want to take Michelle, I want to take you,” he said with the same reasonable tone one would use with an overly tired toddler. He will make a great dad , she thought and then shook her head.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” she said as she chewed on a pen’s top.
“How could it not be a good idea? Open bar, great food, a little bit of close dancing in a dark corner.” He waggled his eyebrows at that.
“I don’t dance.”
“Then you can lean on me. Please?” He picked up a pen and started clicking it. Wren noticed he did that a lot. She wasn’t sure if it was from nerves or just a habit. Given the number of chewed pencils and pens that surrounded her, she couldn’t judge him for it. If people didn’t know better, they might think she had a beaver working for her.
Miller went with his closing argument. “It would also give you a chance to network. We’ll have business clients there along with the crème de la crème of Haven society.“ Wren stopped chewing. “You’ll be home by ten.”
“Alone?”
Miller groaned. “Yes, if that’s what you want.” It’s not what I want, you big dummy, but what’s the safest . Wren chewed and contemplated the pros and cons of his request.
“Please, for me?” Miller traded the pen in his hand for her hand. “Don’t make me beg.”
Wren laughed. “You already did.” She sighed. “All right.”
Miller turned her hand over and kissed her wrist. Her body responded to the slow caress of his lips. She found it hard to breathe and difficult to think. And from the confident look he gave her when their eyes met, she was sure he’d felt her pulse race.
She would have happily stayed rooted like that in their own little bubble, but reality crashed in. Diane Swanson knocked on the front window and waved. Wren smiled and wiggled her fingers in return but dropped the hey-I’m-happy-to-see-you-too act as soon as Diane was out of sight.
Luckily, they hadn’t been holding hands and Miller hadn’t turned around. He’d been too busy looking at his smart watch. The last thing she needed was Diane to know about her and Miller. He looked up and she gave him a reassuring smile. At least she hoped it was reassuring.
“Thank you. I’ve got an appointment in five, so I need to run.” He dropped a quick kiss on her forehead. “Remember to wear something nice,” he told her as he opened the front door.
Wren watched his quick retreat. Nice? Wear something nice? Wren couldn’t believe he’d said that. Didn’t he trust her to make a good impression? Didn’t she have good taste? Every time she thought about it, her blood boiled. It was happening all over again. She was going to a firm event where she’d have to smile and agree with everyone. She’d just need to nod and look pretty. Wren had promised herself she wouldn’t be that person. She wasn’t doing this again!
That evening, Wren combed her closet for something “nice” to wear. Maybe this was for the best. Maybe Miller would finally see what she’d been telling him. She wasn’t good for his career. And maybe this would put an end to their short-term relationship. She’d get over the heartbreak now instead of waiting for it to happen later.
“H i, beautiful,” Miller greeted her Saturday morning as he strolled into Wallflowers and handed her a to-go cup of coffee.
“Thank you.” Wren reached for the cup. “What are you doing here?”
“I’ve got a morning’s worth of work to do waiting for me next door. Let me know if you want me to bring sandwiches over for lunch.” Wren nodded her head as she shifted through the work orders.
“You OK?” he asked.
“Never better,” the ice maiden replied. Wren wished Miller would leave. She felt like a field mouse being studied by a hawk. She was sure he saw her guilty conscience.
“Let’s try it again, but this time with an honest answer,” Miller insisted. Wren sighed. Miller had become an expert at calling out her bull. Usually, she told him the whole truth, but today she couldn’t. He’d get a piece of the truth, but not the whole thing.
“Just tired. Diane ordered additional centerpieces yesterday, which meant I had to get up early this morning and schlep to Minneapolis to pick up the special flowers. And, she added corsages and boutonnieres for the staff. Plus, I need to finish the regular orders for the day, and Cindy wasn’t feeling well, so I told her to stay home.”
“Overall, more business sounds like a good problem,” he pointed out reasonably. Wren wasn’t in the mood to be reasonable.
“Thank you for reframing that, Counselor.”
“All part of being a full-service boyfriend.” Wren choked on her coffee. Boyfriend?! That didn’t sound short term to her. Crap! Crap! Crappidity, crap! She bit the inside of her cheek to keep herself from saying something stupid.
“So,” he continued when Wren said nothing, “I’ll pick you up around 5:30.”
“Why don’t I meet you there? I won’t be ready by that time, and I don’t want you to be late.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.” Very sure. If Miller picked her up, he would see the dress. Wren was counting on shock and awe. He needed to see people’s reactions. He needed proof that she wasn’t what he needed. This would force his hand. He would have to break off their so-called relationship, because she didn’t have the will to.
It’s so tight, they’ll be able to see my religion , Wren thought as she shimmied into the shiny gold dress later that day. Even with extra-tight magical shape wear, it was a snug fit. She’d last worn it three years and fifteen pounds ago to a New Year’s Eve party in Knoxville. It was backless with a plunging halter-style neckline and a mid-thigh hem with a front slit on the left. If not for the slit, she didn’t think she’d be able to move.
From the back of the closet, she dug out the shoe box with her favorite Jimmy Choo heels. After being on her feet all day, they didn’t slip on. Wren contemplated switching them out for a lower-heeled shoe, but the outfit wouldn’t have the same zing.
It’s good the party is tonight , Wren reassured herself as she stuffed her feet into the sleek heels. He’d said boyfriend today, who knew what he would say in a few weeks? Nope, this had to end. Tonight would be the beginning of the end of their short-term relationship. Someday he’d thank her for this. He wouldn’t tonight, but someday.
Wren took a final look in the mirror. She’d always hated this dress, but Michael had insisted on it for a New Year’s Eve party at his friend’s house. She didn’t like what she saw. The old Wren stared back at her. The Wren she didn’t respect, didn’t want to be, and thought she’d left in Knoxville with her old life. She grabbed her coat and her clutch and carefully walked down her stairs.
Traffic was heavy, and because of a broken water pipe there was a detour through downtown. Wren cursed her bad luck as she finally pulled into a parking space—the furthest from the door.
Here goes nothin’, Wren thought as she slipped out of her full-length wool coat and handed it to the young lady at the coat check. The girl’s eyes widened in surprise. Wren rubbed the goose bumps on her arms. The venue was colder than her apartment. There wasn’t much to her dress, but at least the material was thick and the bust was lightly padded. She wouldn’t need to add ‘nippy’ to the list of fashion faux pas .
She stepped into the ballroom. It was a sea of little black dresses and covered shoulders. She would stick out like a three-legged dog in a horse race. This was a stupid idea . I’m going to embarrass both of us. She turned to leave, but a firm, warm hand grabbed her forearm.
“Wow.” Miller appraised her from head to toe, spending more time on some areas than others. “I’ll be the envy of every guy here.” Wren squirmed under his scrutiny as she adjusted a strap and smoothed down the skirt. “Cocktail hour’s almost done,” Miller said through a tight smile. He led her across the room. His hand was warm against the small of her back. “Let’s get something to drink before we mingle.”
As they walked across the room, Wren saw more than a few raised eyebrows and leers. Even Rica had looked surprised when they’d passed her group. Miller ordered a glass of red wine for her, but she changed the order to a Shirley Temple. Her heels were difficult enough to walk in without the added challenge of alcohol, plus she would need all her wits about her tonight. It was a fine line between embarrassing Miller and ruining his career. Not to mention minimizing the negative impact on her business.
Wren adjusted the strap of her dress again as they approached the Swansons. Diane and Michelle wore traditional, conservative black dresses. The dresses were almost identical except Michelle’s was a trendier, shorter length. Diane had accessorized with pearls, but Michelle had an array of colorful bracelets on her arm.
“Wren,” Diane greeted through a tight smile. “What a pleasant surprise!” Diane’s tight smile didn’t reach her eyes, and she sounded anything but pleased. Wren nodded and said hello. “You must be cold in that dress, poor thing.” Diane tsked.
“I’m fine, but thank you for your concern.” Wren smiled tightly and turned to Michelle. “Your bracelets are incredible. Are they from a local artist?” Wren couldn’t stop herself from reaching out and touching them. Diane laughed, and Michelle took a hearty sip from her highball, light on the ice.
“Oh, that’s just Michelle’s little hobby,” Diane said. Wren didn’t join in the laughter.
“You’re very talented,” Wren said.
“Thank you.” Michelle smiled warmly at her. Diane broke up their group by announcing it was time for dinner.
They made their way to the seating chart and found they were at separate tables. Diane apologized for the oversight. Miller and Michelle sat at a table with clients, and Wren was on the opposite side of the room. She carefully seated herself between Rica and a middle-aged man.
Dinner started out well, and Wren was grateful she sat near Rica. They exchanged news and commiserated with each other on Emily’s first choice for bridesmaids’ dresses. Neither of them looked good in orange, and they hatched a plan to change Emily’s mind.
Wren introduced herself to the gentleman seated on her other side. “Greg Ball,” he said with a big smile as he handed her his business card. The name was familiar to Wren, but she couldn’t place it.
He was charming and attentive, but Wren saw the telltale tan line from where his wedding ring usually sat. More than once she’d caught him talking to her chest instead of her face. “Are you here alone this evening?” he asked, draping an arm over the back of her chair. Wren inched closer to Rica.
“No, I’m here with one of the associates, Miller Lynch.” Wren wiped her mouth with her napkin and was careful to cover her lap with it when she was done.
“Miller, nice kid. He and my boy, Eric, grew up together.” Wren didn’t think Miller would take too kindly to being referred to as a kid. She scooted her chair closer to Rica and his arm dropped from the chair’s back.
“That’s why your name is so familiar.” Wren was pleased to have solved the puzzle. “You’re my landlord! I’ve been meaning to talk you about my lease. It’s month-to-month now, but I’d like it to be annual.”
“I don’t like to discuss business at social functions,” he said and placed a hand on her bare thigh, “unless it’s business and pleasure.” He winked. Wren took his hand and planted it on top of the table.
“Good to know. I’ll call and make an appointment for next week.” She returned the wink, hoping it would soften the blow. His attentions were about as welcome as an outhouse breeze.
“In the meantime, how about a dance?” the older man asked. The band had just started a classic swing tune as the servers began to clear the tables. A few AAS staff members were out on the floor, including Miller and Michelle who were struggling with the rhythm.
“You must be very successful, if you’re this relentless in business, too.”
“I am, very.” He stood and extended his hand. “Looks like your date is occupied.”
“I’ll wait.” Wren knew it was rude to ignore a dance invitation, but she didn’t want to encourage him. She turned her attention back to Rica.
“I don’t get what your problem is, lady,” Greg complained. He finished his drink and slammed the highball glass on the table. “Diane said you’d be great company.” Miller arrived at their table before Wren responded.
“Greg,” Miller said as he shook the older man’s hand.
“Dance?” she asked, interrupting Miller before he and Greg could start a conversation.
“It would be my pleasure,” Miller said. He guided her out to the dance floor. Wren adjusted her dress as she walked.
Just as he’d promised earlier in the week, Miller found them a dark spot on the dance floor and let Wren lean on him. They stayed that way for several slow-tempo songs. Wren leaned in, but Miller maintained a stiff posture. She looked up at him and faked a yawn behind her hand. “I’m fading fast. I should go home.”
“All right, let’s get our coats and go.”
“No. This is a big night for AAS and for you. You need to stay and mingle.” She patted his solid chest.
“Wren, if you’re this tired, I’m taking you home.”
She looked up at him and felt the tears building. “Miller, stay. I don’t want you to be mad at me about leaving, too.”
“What do you mean ‘too’?”
“Admit it, you’ve been mad at me all night.”
Miller scowled, but he didn’t relax his hold on her.
“Please, let’s not make a scene. I’ve embarrassed you enough this evening,” Wren pleaded.
“You think I’m mad because you’ve embarrassed me?” Miller pulled back and studied her. “Sweetheart, I’m mad because I don’t know why you’re wearing a dress that makes you uncomfortable. You’ve spent all your time tugging and pulling on that damn thing,” he growled near her ear.
Wren swallowed around the lump in her throat and fixed her gaze on his tie. It was bad enough she heard the disappointment in his voice, she didn’t need to see it on his face, too.
“Not to mention the goose bumps covering your arms. I don’t get it.” Miller shook his head. Wren blinked rapidly. She needed to leave. Now.
“Good night, Miller. I’ll text you when I get home.” She pulled out of his embrace and left him stranded on the dance floor.
Wren clenched the steering wheel as she drove home and bit the inside of her cheek. Hard. She didn’t know whether she wanted to cry or hit something. Too bad it was too late to knock some sense into her.
How could I have been so stupid? Wren threw her clutch on the couch and tugged off her coat. She pried-off her Jimmy Choo’s and wiggled her toes in relief. Tender red blisters covered her heels and a few toes. Serves me right, she sniffled as she hobbled into her bedroom.
As Wren scrubbed off her makeup, she remembered the condescending looks she’d gotten from the people she’d hoped to network with and shuddered. I was as welcomed as a hair on a biscuit. They’d looked at her like something they’d find on the bottom of their well-soled shoes. So much for being a successful business owner , she thought with disdain.
She bent over and vigorously brushed her hair. She stood up and continued the assault. What were you thinking? she yelled at her reflection and pointed the hairbrush accusingly. No answer. She grabbed her toothbrush and continued the verbal assault. With the toothpaste foam around her mouth and her freshly washed face, she looked like a crazed woman. She rinsed her mouth and spat into the sink. He said wear something nice , she defended herself to her reflection. If I’d worn something nice then I’d have been toeing the line and the old Wren would have been back . Wren clutched the edge of the pedestal sink, hung her head in defeat, and let the tears fall.
This wasn’t about Miller, this was about leftover garbage from her marriage. She owed him an apology and an explanation.
And to make the fiasco of an evening even worse, Miller hadn’t been mad about the dress! Her entire plan had backfired. Instead of forcing Miller to break up with her, because she was too cowardly to do it herself, all she’d done was embarrass herself and her business. Wren paused.
Why would I want to break up with an incredible man who cares more about me than what people think? She’d be stupid to let him go. She should just ride their short-term relationship wave for as long as it lasted. When it crashed, it crashed. The only regret she’d have would be not switching into high-gear sooner. No more taking it slow. She knew there’d be a few broken pieces of her heart to pick up and mend when it was all done, but she wouldn’t regret it. They both knew what they were getting into. If Miller still wanted her, that was.
But, this needed to stay between them. She wasn’t going to jeopardize Miller’s career again. No more public appearances together, unless they were with a group of people. And no public displays of affection. Not even a lingering touch, stolen kiss, or smoldering look. Miller was an expert at those. His baby-blues made her burn.
Wren finished dressing and grabbed her car keys. The drive to Miller’s house wouldn’t take long. Hopefully, he’d be willing to talk to her and she could put this terrible mistake behind her. Behind them.
M iller’s headlights caught Wren huddled in a blanket on his front porch as he pulled into the driveway. He saw her unwinding herself from the step as he waited for the garage door to open. Miller pulled in and let the car idle. He rubbed his hands over his face and let out a pent-up breath. He didn’t want to deal with this now.
The evening had been a total bust. After Wren had left, he’d spent the rest of the evening making small-talk with clients and Michelle. He hated these types of events, but in the days leading up to it, the thought of having Wren with him had made it more palatable. But she hadn’t been with him. She’d shown up late and had left early. Kind of like she is in our relationship , he realized with a start. She always had one foot out the door. And she was always suggesting that he do things with Michelle. Who dates a man and suggests another woman for him? He slammed the car door and stalked to the front porch.
Wren had sat back down on the step. Evidently, he’d stalled in the garage longer than he’d thought. With one look at her face, he remembered how tired she was and felt guilty. He stopped in front of her. She moved over and made room for him on the step. Miller didn’t budge. “Why’d you do it, Wren?”
“I’m sorry, Miller. I really, really am,” she blurted. Not an answer. He was mad. He was pissed. He was tired of playing nice.
“I don’t need an apology,” he growled. “What I need it to know is why you did it.”
“Sit, please?” She patted the space next to her. “This is hard enough to talk about without you towering over me.” Miller sat stiffly and crossed his arms on his chest. “This is so embarrassing…”
“Temperature’s dropping and it’s getting late, Wren. Start talking.” He sounded like an ass even to his own ears, but he didn’t care. Wren moved closer to him and he saw the faint blush on her face and felt the shiver run through her. Miller roughly scooped Wren onto his lap and rearranged the blanket around them.
He considered inviting her in, but that felt too much like forgiveness. He wanted to make this difficult for her. He wanted to see if she was willing to put some effort into their relationship. And he was still pissed. She owed him this. Yep, I’m an ass .
Problem was, it was difficult to hold on to his anger when she was in his arms. Why couldn’t he enjoy the company of an easygoing woman? Why did it need to be a woman who vacillated between ice maiden and prickly?
“Quit stalling and talk,” Miller said, sounding more patient than he was. He’d give her another minute, then he was heading inside, alone.
“Remember when you told me to wear something nice?” Miller thought back over their recent conversations.
“No,” he admitted.
“Oh, great.” She sounded sarcastic. “Now I look even more like a crackpot. I went off the deep-end on a comment you don’t even remember making.” She stopped and blew out a breath. Miller saw faint traces of the puff. Wren needed to get to the point before the temperature dropped much more. He didn’t need to wait too much longer.
“Michael used to tell me to wear something nice. I never liked it when he said that. It was a reminder that I wasn’t a natural fit in his world. Like I was a liability that he needed to monitor. And like I wasn’t enough.” Her hands were in her lap and Miller wondered if she was playing with her ring. He’d noticed she did that a lot when she was upset. “I reacted and didn’t think. I’m sorry.”
Miller relaxed and tucked her head under his chin. This had nothing to do with them, but with Wren’s baggage. Baggage he wished she’d lose.
“Wren, what’s it going to take for you to realize I’m not him? We’re not them?”
“Who’s them?” she asked.
“Them. Who you and Michael were. You’re not the same woman now that you were with him, so in my mind that makes you a separate person, makes you a them.” Miller knew he wasn’t expressing himself clearly. He added Wren’s ability to drop his substantial I.Q. to her list of flaws. “Does that make sense?”
“Yes, in a way. And I know you’re not Michael, even though you share a lot of similarities.”
“Because we’re both lawyers.”
“And you’re both good-looking. But you’re off-the-scale scorchingly hot.” He was desperate enough to take the compliment. Wren reminded him of his flaws often, so when she said something nice, he took it.
“Wren, law is my job, it’s my interest, but it’s not who I am. I think you know me better than that.”
“I know. I just panicked. I’m sorry.” She reached up and touched his face. Her fingers were cold. Miller covered them with his hand.
“And just so we’re clear, you are not a liability. If the Wren I know had shown up tonight, she’d have been a huge asset for me.”
“I need more faith in myself. I should probably call my therapist and make an appointment. I’m obviously still struggling. Broken.” He heard the disappointment in her voice.
“I think that’s a great idea,” Miller said as he turned his head and pressed a small kiss on her icy palm. She dragged her hand away and tucked it underneath the blanket. “Did you know, in Japan they sometimes patch a broken bowl with gold?”
“Is this a pottery lesson?”
“No, it’s a life lesson so pay close attention. They see the gold, or the flaw, as an important piece of the bowl’s history that adds to its beauty.” He slid his hand to her chin and tilted her face so she had to look at him. Her eyes looked like she’d been crying earlier. Sadist , Miller acknowledged to himself. He was glad she’d cried over this. It was proof she cared about their relationship. “Your flaws make you beautiful, but you do need to work on patching them. And you need to have more faith in us.” Wren nodded her head in agreement.
She pulled his head closer and placed a gentle kiss on the corner of his mouth. Miller slipped his hand to the back of her neck and fisted his hands in her thick hair urging her closer. He angled her head and took full possession of her lips. They quickly warmed under his. Wren slipped her arms around him and he pulled her closer, deepening the kiss. Remembering they were sitting on his illuminated front step, Miller reluctantly broke the kiss and tucked Wren’s head against his shoulder.
“By the way”—he shifted and tried to create some space between them —“where did you get that dress?”
“It was in the back of my closet. I should have tried it on before committing to wear it. Last time I wore it, I was really thin. It was a tough squeeze tonight. Now I know how a sausage feels.”
“Well, if that’s the case, you were the hottest sausage there.”
“You cleaned up pretty good, too.” She rubbed her palm against his chest. He nuzzled her ear and nipped the lobe. Wren squirmed on his lap.
“I want that dress,” he growled.
“I don’t think it’s in your size.” Miller lightly pinched her butt, and she laughed.
“Do you like the dress?” he asked.
“No, and I didn’t really like it when I bought it either,” she confessed.
“Give it to me.”
“Why?”
“I’m going to burn it at the first bonfire of the summer.”
“I don’t think fabric like that burns, it just melts. But we could shred it with scissors,” she suggested, getting into the spirit of it. Miller liked the sound of ‘we.’
“Good plan. We’ll kill the dress before it creates more havoc.”
“Evil dress,” Wren agreed.
“Keep the shoes, though,” Miller commanded. “The shoes were great. With shoes like that, you wouldn’t need to wear anything else.”
“I’ll take that under advisement, Counselor.” Wren pushed off his lap and dropped a quick kiss on his surprised mouth. “If I stay much longer, I’m going to turn into a human popsicle. I’d better go. Good night, Miller.”
He reached for her hand. This was a bad idea. They’d both been through the emotional wringer tonight. A smart man would let Wren go, but right now he desperately needed connection. He didn’t want to be smart, even if he could be. Wren had obliterated his normal intelligence the minute she’d walked into the ballroom that evening.
“Stay. I’m not ready to say good night,” Miller pleaded.
Wren looked down at him. Her forehead scrunched in concentration. “I don’t know, Miller. My insides are cold, I’m tired, and I’m all talked out.”
“I know a good way to warm your insides and my mouth will be too busy to talk.”
“You forget I’m tired, too.”
“Lady’s choice, but either way, I want to hold you in my arms until I’m asleep and wake up with you in the morning.”
Wren sighed loudly and acted put out.
“Someday I’m going to win an argument with you.”
“But not today, right?” he asked hopefully.
“Less talk, more action, Counselor.” She tugged him to his feet and led him through the open garage and into the house.