Chapter Three #2
Tammy threw up her hands. “Absolutely nothing! Hank wanted you to date. To take a chance on love, not sit at the nursery and wait for love to find you and smack you over the head.” She grinned at Lily’s frown.
“It’s not too late. Go to New York with Rhett.
Have some fun. At least take the risk and give the guy a chance to be worth it. ”
“I’m scared,” Lily admitted. “I want to make the right choices.” Her stomach twisted into a knot. “Maybe me going to New York is a big mistake.”
“No! Finding something wrong with every guy you meet is a big mistake. If you don’t take a risk, you’ll never find Mr. Right.”
Lily glowered. “Dad said he fell in love with Mom on their first date.” She shifted the truck into gear when the traffic finally started to move.
“Yeah and your mom at least accepted the first date and gave your dad a chance. And a second chance and a third chance. All I’m saying is, it’s okay to believe in love at first sight, but be ready to take some risks. Be ready to take a chance on love.”
“Dad had hoped I’d save my first time for love. How will I know when the first time is right?”
All laughter left her friend’s eyes. “Trust. Plain and simple. You’ll trust the guy, and you’ll trust the guy with your first time.”
“Trust comes with love.”
“And trust can come before love,” Tammy corrected. “Will you at least keep an open mind? If it feels right, at least give Rhett a chance.”
Lily hesitated, then nodded solemnly.
“Atta’ girl!”
~ ~ ~ ~
Lily met Rhett at the Jupiter airfield at three that afternoon. Rob grumbled about giving up his Porsche for a week just so it could sit at the airfield, but in the end, he gave in as Lily knew he would.
She was glad she had made the rush trip to Niemen Marcus with Tammy to buy clothes.
She’d never spent so much on outfits before, but she didn’t care.
Rhett noticed how she looked, and he made her feel beautiful.
Every time a twinge of guilt over her deception bubbled up, she thought of his kisses on the moonlit beach, and the resultant sensual overload stifled any guilt-induced pressure.
She wanted Rhett like she had never wanted any guy before, and she had known he was different after their brief couple of hours together at the nursery.
The man made her laugh. He liked how her crazy mind worked, and he seemed to enjoy the chaos.
Sharing their childhood memories last night had been special, tender.
She wanted more time with him and refused to worry about the consequences of her deception until later.
After her talk with Tammy, Lily was determined to take a chance on love. With Rhett.
Hindsight said telling Rhett about the nursery right away would have been better, and the longer she waited, the greater the chance her deception could damage their fledgling relationship.
But telling him could also make him bolt, and that niggling fear kept Lily silent.
She just needed a little more time to hopefully forge their bond tighter, so nothing and no one could break it.
If he cared for her, he would forgive her and maybe she wouldn’t need her own room in New York.
Rhett stood waiting next to the plane when she arrived and greeted her with a hug and a kiss, right in front of his pilot. Lily loved it. He looked so handsome and sexy in his polo shirt and jeans, she didn’t want to let him go.
The pilot grabbed her luggage, and Rhett bundled her onto the plane. She tried not to gape at the furnishings as he gave her a tour of the aircraft and then seated her for take-off. He took her hand in his as the plane roared down the runway, and his tender gesture put a lump in her throat.
“I have a surprise for you tonight,” he said and brushed his lips across her knuckles, sending a swarm of her stomach butterflies on their own flight that had nothing to do with the plane lifting off the runway.
“Oh?” She tried to sound casual like one of his jet-set crowd, but it came out breathless anyway. Just looking at the man made her breathless, and she feared she was already lost.
“I’m taking you to dinner and then on a carriage ride in Central Park.”
“A carriage ride?” she said and stopped short of a squeal. “Just like—”
Whoa, girl! You say Cinderella and your jig is up.
He grinned. “Just like what?”
“Just like I was hoping we could. Carriage rides are so romantic.”
Would she never stop feeling like Cinderella? The name echoed with a fresh twinge of guilt.
“I’ve never taken one, but I imagined taking one with you would be romantic,” Rhett said, then leaned over and kissed her.
~ ~ ~ ~
Delia wheeled her Jaguar into the Bloom & Grow parking lot on Sunday afternoon.
Her father had promised to find out what he could about the mysterious Lily, specifically any available dirt, and she knew Chester Armstead would come through.
Daddy wanted Delia married to Rhett Buchanan more than Delia did.
Too impatient to wait for her father to pry, she decided to take matters into her own hands and investigate the nursery where Rhett had met his slutty blonde.
Someone there might know something about the slut.
Plus, if the woman bought plants regularly, they should have her address.
Delia could then make a covert run past the woman’s house, and Delia prided herself on being able to guess someone’s net worth just by driving past their house. She was rarely, if ever, wrong.
Delia intended to fight that blonde for Rhett, and if she had to, she would fight dirty.
Rhett Buchanan fit all her husband requirements—richer than anyone on the eastern seaboard, capable of supporting Delia’s spending habits, and sex with him was better than with any other man she’d met.
Except Raoul. Who listed toward mild perversion.
Thinking of Raoul forced a frown. The Argentinean polo player had dumped her two months earlier when he left for South America at the end of polo season.
Had a girl back home he loved, or so he said.
Damned if Delia would lose both of her favorite sex partners to other women.
She conveniently chose to ignore the fact she hadn’t slept with Rhett in a long time—and even then, slept with him only a handful of times—before she tumbled into Raoul’s bed.
Rhett had backpedaled on her long ago, but she had given up the chase when her Argentinean lover appeared on the scene. Rhett had flitted in and out of her life a half-dozen times already, and she had always let him go because she loved playing the field and knew he did too.
Rhett Buchanan would never settle down.
For the first time in her life, Delia didn’t feel quite so sure of herself. Rhett hadn’t been able to take his eyes off the blond slut Friday night, and Delia hadn’t liked the hungry look in his eyes. She had never connived to corral Rhett in the past, but she intended to score that feat now.
Climbing out of her Jaguar, she glared in disgust at the gravel entrance drive and mulch path to the nursery office. Trudging toward the little office building could ruin her manolo blahniks. When this was all over, she would see to it Rhett bought her another pair. No, make that two.
One glance through the open doorway showed the office to be deserted. Delia started back toward the parking area and spotted a gardener in the adjacent field of container trees, a watering wand in his hand.
He glanced up when she approached. “Can I help you?”
She stifled the urge to wrinkle her nose as she neared the disheveled man. His hair was shaggy, damp sweat spots peppered his shirt, and the oldest sneakers in the world hugged his feet. Stopping well short of aroma range, she put up a hand to shield her eyes.
“Yes, you can,” she said, squinting. “I’m trying to locate a client of yours. She left a scarf at my party last night, but I don’t know where she lives, and I don’t have her phone number. I just wanted to return her scarf. She said she buys plants here.”
The stupid man accepted her story—hook, line, and sinker. But then, why wouldn’t he?
“That’s nice of you,” he told her, “but we have hundreds of people come through here month to month.”
“I know that.” She waved him off. “But she said she was just here on Friday afternoon.”
“Do you have a name?”
I would have said it outright if I did, moron.
She had been so focused on getting to Rhett at the party and squeezing the blonde out of the way, she hadn’t paid any attention to the woman’s name. It was Lily something. Delia’s father would find out eventually, but she hadn’t felt like waiting. Delia wanted Rhett back now.
She had grown even more worried when she’d gone by Rhett’s house that morning—late morning—and he wasn’t there.
The mansion had looked deserted. Even his housekeeper was gone, and Rhett only gave the housekeeper time off when he left town.
Delia had worked herself into a frenzy and driven straight to the nursery.
Rhett better not have slept with that blond bitch.
She waggled her fingers at the dirty gardener. “It was Lily something.”
He grinned. “Something is her last name?”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “No. I don’t know her last name.”
“Like I said, ma’am, we get hundreds of folks through here every month, and I don’t see or meet them all.”
“You can’t even recollect who came through here Friday afternoon?” she snapped.
He stiffened.
Delia softened her tone significantly. If she angered this man, he wouldn’t help her. “Look, the woman talked to Rhett Buchanan when he was here to inspect trees, of all things. Surely, you know who he is.”
“Yes, I know who the man is,” the young man said evenly. “I’m the one who pulled his order, but the only Lily I saw talking to Mr. Buchanan was Lily Foster.”
“That’s it!” she exclaimed, suddenly remembering the introduction on Friday night. “That’s her name.”
He frowned. “She’s no client. She’s the owner.”
“The owner of what?” Delia asked, exasperated.