Zoya Hart has been eluding her gold-digging stepmother for the last few years. Knowing that this woman will do anything to gain control of her and her late father's company, Zoya finds herself hiding out on a farm. Now, with a PI on her trail, Zoya'...
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Friday morning, Zoya got to work early. As hard as she tried, she couldn't get Mariana and Tommy off her mind. The last few days she'd tried to get Roman to talk about Flynn but didn't get much out of him.
If he was Tommy's father, then why didn't Mariana think him worthy enough to tell? Maybe he thought only of himself and did whatever it took to get what he wanted.
She flipped a page in her notebook and studied the instructions for her next client, seventy-four-year-old, Clyde Rickards. Men were so much easier than women. With a little foundation and a dusting of powder, they were good to go. Well, it took longer if they needed a haircut which Clyde didn't because he'd been a member of a local country western band and wore his in a ponytail.
She removed the protective cape, tightened the knot on his tie, then smoothed his shirt and jacket. After checking him off the list, she studied her word of the day. Alacrity meaning eager, willingness or readiness. She'd been judging Flynn with alacrity which wasn't fair. She'd not even met him.
At two o'clock, she sat in the break room eating a peanut butter sandwich and enjoying the solitude. The area was small with only one table, four chairs, fridge, and a couple of vending machines. One for snacks and the other for drinks. Since she was just about the only person who used it, she wished she could redecorate. A pretty rug would improve the commercial tan tile and the place could be cheerful if she gave the white walls a splash of color. Original artwork wouldn't hurt either.
Her musings shattered when Joshua's voice echoed down the hallway. He was headed her way. She hoped he wasn't making a last ditch effort to escort her to the banquet. At least she had a legitimate excuse.
The door flew open. He stepped inside and gave her the eye. "Hey, how's it going?"
"Fine."
"You coming tonight?"
Her stomach clenched. "Yeah."
"Good. I'll save you a seat."
Before she could answer, Mrs. Walters, the secretary peeked inside and pushed a white box tied with a ribbon toward Zoya. "Handy I found you here because I think this will need to be kept in the refrigerator."
Zoya took it and stared at the imprint. Arcadia Blossoms. The local shop delivered funeral arrangements all the time, but to see a tag with her name on it surprised her. She unpinned the envelope from the bow and read the card. Looking forward to tonight, Plus One.
A rush of adrenaline pushed a knot into her throat. She tugged the satin. Inside she found a wrist corsage of white orchids surrounded by baby's breath tied with ribbon. She wanted to cry. Dad had given her a bouquet at her art show. She'd picked flowers with Stella and then Charamel, but she'd never gotten a corsage. Much less one from a man. A man like Roman.
"Looks like I won't need to save you a seat."
She'd forgotten Joshua was in the room. "Uh? Oh, yeah. I'm bringing someone."
