Finders Keepers Part 2

Cora handed Molly the day's totals and then grinned, waiting for the praise that never came.

"What's wrong with you?" Cora asked. "It's not often we run that much during mid-July. I thought you'd be excited." And then she noticed the pallor beneath the heat flush on Molly's face. "Did something happen?" She frowned and swiped a hand across Molly's forehead to test for unnecessary warmth. "I knew Harry should have made the deliveries. You didn't have a wreck or anything, did you?" She looked over Molly's shoulder toward the van parked in front of the store.

"No. Nothing like that. I just did something I wish I hadn't," she said.

Cora crossed her arms and waited like an anxious parent for Molly to confess.

"You've yet to do anything I'd consider foolish," Harry offered, as he patted Molly gently on the shoulder.

"So...what's the secret?" Cora persisted.

Molly sank down onto a tall stool behind the counter, buried her face in her hands, and groaned.

"You remember I told you that the house next door sold."

Cora nodded. "What's that got to-"

"Let her finish," Harry said, interrupting his wife before she had time to create a new and bigger argument.

"I turned down an offer to go to dinner with the man, and he's as close to a Mel Gibson look-alike as I'm ever going to get," Molly said.

"That's too bad," Harry said. "You don't go out enough as it is. If I was twenty-nine and single, you wouldn't catch me puttering around in my backyard every weekend like you do. You should go. It'll be good for you."

Cora frowned. "I thought you said that the man next door had children."

Molly nodded, then looked away.

"Then why are you regretting not dating the man? I'd have thought with your history, it would be the farthest thing from your mind."

"Cora!" Harry said, shocked at the abrupt way his wife had reminded Molly of past sins.

"It's okay," Molly said. "Cora's not saying anything I haven't already told myself." She hugged the older woman for a.s.surance. "He says he's not married. I just don't know if I can believe him. It wouldn't be the first time I got burned for trusting the wrong man."

The bitter smile on Molly's face made Cora angry. "If he's lying to you, better to find out now, before it's too late," Cora warned.

Molly nodded, then glanced at the clock. "Why don't you two go on home? I'll lock up. Thanks for staying, and I'll see you tomorrow."

Cora hid her worries behind a quick hug just before Harry hustled her out the door.

Molly gathered up the bank bag for a night deposit and headed for her car, all the while, wondering what dinner-and other things-with Joseph Rossi would have been like.

Two.

A week came and went with no further contact between Molly and the hunk. She satisfied herself with an occasional glimpse of his car and a few regrets for what might have been. But there were too many skeletons in her past for her to dwell too long upon her missed chance.

Even if the man's eyes were the color of semi-sweet chocolate, rich, dark, and just as impenetrable. Even if he swore he wasn't "that kind of man" either. She gave up the dreams and concentrated on the facts. And the facts were, she was busy having one of the most hectic, but profitable, summers the shop had ever run.

Cora's shout echoed from the back room. "Molly, you'll have to get the phone. I'm up to my elbows in orchids."

Molly sighed and dropped her scissors. Dismayed, she watched the bow she'd been trying to tie come undone as she ran to answer the phone.

"Garden of Eden. May I help you?"

"Yes," a very familiar, very male voice said in a slow, Mississippi drawl. "If this is the Garden of Eden, then I need to speak to Eve. Is she there?"

Molly took a deep breath. She recognized this voice. She'd been hearing it in her sleep for several days now. And in spite of her reluctance to admit she was glad to hear it, she was thankful he couldn't see her expression. She would have hated for him to know she was smiling. Enjoying his own joke, he chuckled in her ear. She s.h.i.+vered, then perversely decided to play along.

"Well, sir, if you mean the Eve, then I'm sorry to say she's not. I hate to be the one to tell you...but I'm afraid I had to let Eve go. There was a, uh, slight infraction of the rules."

He chuckled again, and Molly's stomach jerked at the slow, s.e.xy laugh that bounced across her eardrum. She closed her eyes, counted to ten, then gripped the phone a little tighter as the game played on.

"So, since Eve's not here, you'll have to settle for me."

"Lady, I'd settle for you any day," Joseph said, and then added before Molly had time to reject his statement outright, "And...I have a question. Do you make house calls?"

"Depends on whose house," Molly said.

Joseph's eyes narrowed at the sound of her voice. Blindly, he stared at the panorama beyond his office windows, unable to appreciate the fine landscaping or the beautiful day, and then he hid a sigh of frustration. He was going to have to remember to be careful around this woman. For some reason, she was antsy as a bee-stung bear around men.

"I guess I should identify myself. This is Joseph Rossi."

"I knew that," Molly said, and then rolled her eyes at her stupidity. Why don't I just tell him I'm interested and get this chitchat over with? But her instinct for survival held her tongue, and so she waited for his response.

He grinned. So...you recognize my voice? That was an interesting fact to consider. "Could you come to my office?"

"What's wrong?" Molly asked.

"I think I have a sick tree."

Molly glanced at her watch. "The one I delivered? Gee, that's too bad. Hang on and let me check," she said, then covered the phone. "Cora, do you think you can handle the shop alone for an hour or so? We've had a complaint about that rubber tree I delivered over on Sixty-third Street last week."

Cora's eyebrows rose. She remembered more than the location of the delivery. She distinctly remembered that Molly's neighbor was the recipient of the tree.

"No problem," Cora said, and then waggled her finger to remind Molly to be careful.

Molly made a face and stuck out her tongue, and then uncovered the phone.

"Thanks for holding," she said. "We always guarantee our stock, and on an order that size, I have no problem with checking it out in person. I'll be right there."

"Good," Joseph said. "I'll be waiting."

He'll be waiting? For what?

Molly s.h.i.+vered as he disconnected. She shrugged out of her smock, grabbed her purse, and headed for the van. It didn't take long to make the drive from her shop on Pennsylvania Avenue to his office. In less than fifteen minutes she pulled into the parking lot of the high-rise and exited on the run.

"What am I doing?" she muttered, as the elevator doors slid shut behind her and she glared at her own reflection. "Stop running, calm down, and act like this is no big deal."

But her flushed face, wayward curls, and the loud thud of her heartbeat told her otherwise. The elevator opened its doors and spit Molly out into the corridor with little regard for her nervous antic.i.p.ation. It had places to go and people to retrieve.

Marjorie Weeks looked up from her desk and managed a formal smile at the young woman who entered the offices of Red Earth Designs.

"Well," she said shortly. "I didn't think they'd send just a delivery person. I expected someone more...knowledgeable."

"h.e.l.lo, it's nice to see you again, too," Molly said sweetly. "And I own the shop. I'm about the best you're going to get."

Marjorie huffed. If this snippet was telling the truth, then she definitely needed some instruction on how a proper business owner dressed. In her estimation, this constant appearance in brief attire was not seemly.

"So," Molly continued, as she considered the source and ignored the snub, "what seems to be the problem?"

Marjorie pointed. "It's that tree you delivered. The leaves are beginning to turn, and some have even fallen off. You sold us a diseased plant, and I demand full rest.i.tution."

Joseph walked out of his office in the middle of his secretary's accusations and tried not to frown. He knew quite a bit of Marjorie's personal history, and made it a point to overlook most of her a.s.sertive, possessive behavior concerning him and his business.

"That won't be necessary, Mrs. Weeks." The sound of his voice obviously surprised both women as they spun toward him. "Let's hear Molly out first and then we'll decide what needs to be done."

Molly looked away, pretending great interest in the tree, and Mrs. Weeks looked down her nose in disgust, then relaxed as Joseph patted her gently on the shoulder.

"So, Molly, what seems to be the verdict?" Joseph asked.

"Give me a minute, okay?"

She knelt, sticking her fingers into the soil around the plant, then frowning at the soupy moisture content as a rush of very cool air from an overhead air conditioner vent coincided with a blast of heat off the ma.s.sive wall of windows beside her. It was a simple diagnosis, and one she should have thought of when the tree had been delivered.

"Move it," she said.

Marjorie Weeks jumped, then took two steps backwards in reflex to what Molly ordered.

Molly's mouth twitched. She looked everywhere, and at everything, except the expression on Joseph's face. She knew if she did she would burst into laughter, and thereby earn even more of Marjorie Weeks's wrath.

"I'm sorry," Molly said, and started to explain further. "I didn't mean you, ma'am. I meant the plant."

Mrs. Weeks's face turned a bright red as she stared long and hard at Molly, daring her to add insult to injury by laughing in her face. When she did neither, she could only follow Molly's lead and try to ignore the situation. She c.o.c.ked her head, pretending to absorb Molly's explanation, and all the while wis.h.i.+ng her to parts unknown.

"It's in a bad location, and it's been watered too much," Molly continued. "It's too wet, too hot, and too cold, all at the same time. How about"-she looked a moment, choosing a corner close to the door and away from the intense heat of the wall of gla.s.s-"over there?"

Joseph wasn't blind to the undercurrents between the two women. And while he would never allow anyone to tell him how to run his business, he couldn't have cared less where the d.a.m.ned plant was put. What he did want was to mend some fences with his pretty new neighbor. He hated being thought of as a cheat. He'd had enough of dishonesty in his own life without lying to someone he'd just met. Wisely, he let the women settle the situation between themselves and stood aside, waiting for Mrs. Weeks to okay the decision.

Marjorie looked around the room, relis.h.i.+ng the fact that it was solely up to her to prolong the decision. But even she could see the wisdom of the suggestion, and finally settled the issue by nodding her agreement.

"Great," Molly said. "I think you'll see a marked improvement after the new location." And then she added, "But don't hesitate to let me know if you don't."

"Indeed I will," Mrs. Weeks said. "I take care of my responsibilities."

"Yes, ma'am," Molly said, and bent down to grab hold of the pot, intent on scooting it to its new location.

"I'll get it," Joseph said. "It's too heavy for you."

"Oh! Mr. Rossi! You'll get yourself dirty," Mrs. Weeks argued. "You shouldn't bother yourself with such menial labor. Let her do it. It's why she came."

Joseph calmly ignored his secretary's fuss as he knelt in front of the rubber tree. He was eye level with Molly before he spoke.

"Is it?" he asked.

"Is it what?"

"Why you came?"

Her eyes widened at his audacity, and she forgot to breathe. Joseph got lost in eyes so blue they looked clear, then he blinked, believing that he could see his own reflection, and tried not to imagine how stormy her eyes might get when she was aroused with pa.s.sion. He'd already seen them darken in anger and wondered if she kept them open when she made love, or if she closed them instead, leaving a man with nothing but the tentative flutter of those ridiculously long lashes.

Molly shuddered, tried not to focus on his less-than-subtle innuendo, and grabbed onto the pot.

"If you want to help, you pull, I'll push. Then neither of us will strain anything important."

He grinned and complied, and the tree was soon moved to a new location. As soon as it was in place, Molly felt the itch to leave.

"I'll be going now," she said, refusing to acknowledge his lingering interest. "Mr. Rossi, thank you for your business. Mrs. Weeks, it was nice to see you again. If you ever have need of our services, don't hesitate to give us a call."

Molly resisted the urge to run as she headed for the elevator. But she could have saved herself the haste, because once again, Joseph followed her down the hall.

"So, Molly Eden, dare I take the chance, and repeat my offer of dinner?"

Because she refused to stop, he followed her to the elevator, waiting for an answer he wasn't sure he'd get.

Molly punched the DOWN b.u.t.ton and prayed for a speedy response.

"Well...are you going to keep me in suspense, or is this a brush-off and I'm just slow in getting the message? You'll have to tell me if it is. I've been out of the dating scene so long, I wouldn't know."

It was the defeat in his voice that got her attention. She turned and stared. "You're serious, aren't you?"

He nodded. "As serious as I can be, lady. Will you trust me?" The minute he spoke, her expression darkened. He figured it was a safe bet that somewhere along Molly's life, someone had badly betrayed her trust.

Finally she shrugged. "I just might. But no promises...not yet. And nothing more than dinner, okay?"

He grinned. "It's a deal. And just to prove what a gentleman I am about the whole deal, I'll even provide a chaperon. Course, he's not housebroken, and he does still spill milk into his food on occasion, and I'm having a h.e.l.l of a time getting him to quit sucking his thumb, but he'll do in a pinch."

The description of his son's behavior and habits made Molly grin. "What time?"

"Seven okay?"

"I'll bring dessert," she offered. "Is the host or the chaperon allergic to anything important?"