A Wedding She'll Never Forget. Robyn Grady
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She’d rather stab herself in the heart than pick her teeth in public.”
Daniel thought about how he loved to shovel popcorn while watching a game. How he abhorred routine and attending functions because it was expected. He recalled how he got off on revving his motorbike to the max down the Great Ocean Road when the urge struck. Then he imagined Scarlet sitting behind him wearing Catwoman leathers, clinging on, arms lashed around his waist with the wind making flying ribbons of her long red hair. At least he guessed that, when it was free, her hair was long. Past her shoulders. Maybe halfway down her back.
He smiled.
Bet it felt like satin.
Daniel pushed to his feet. “Think I’ll ask her out again.”
“You’re incorrigible.”
“I have a good feeling.”
Max chuckled. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Max had to answer another incoming call and the men signed off. Daniel dialed the number for the committee and, putting justice rather than his own aversions first, agreed to come in when requested. Then for the next couple of hours he battled over that other, far more enticing matter.
He’d decided against calling Scarlet. He didn’t like the idea of showing up again unannounced. He’d had an idea earlier. Around three, he had it perfected.
He’d heard Max about the Everett Matheson character being a contender. But Scarlet wasn’t spoken for, and Daniel’s fair and reasonable barometer said, Go for it. She might be playing near impossible to get but she was definitely interested.
After some research on the web, he chose a florist located near Scarlet’s place of business.
“I need some flowers delivered as soon as possible today,” he told the woman who answered the phone. “An added charge is no problem.”
“I’ll deliver them myself,” she assured him. “What kind?”
“They’re called heaven’s trumpets.” To complement an angel. When a silence followed, he prodded. “Something wrong?”
“You’re aware that plant is highly toxic.”
Bending close to his laptop’s screen, he scrolled down, read on. Damn. “I missed that.”
“They are beautiful blooms, distinct perfume—”
“And poisonous.” He couldn’t see Scarlet Anders chewing on a petal, still … not the message he wanted to send.
The woman went on, “Could I suggest something more traditional. Perhaps roses.”
“I don’t do traditional.”
Unless …
As the idea took shape, Daniel explained what he had in mind and, laughing, the woman on the other end of the line assured him that his instructions would be followed to a T. When details for the bouquet were set, he gave his name and credit card details as well as Scarlet’s name and address.
The woman coughed as if she’d lost her breath. His jaw shifted. “You okay?”
With a smile in her vaguely familiar voice, the woman replied, “Mr. McNeal, I’m positively floating.”
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