Send Me No Flowers (19 page)

He laid newspapers across the floor, then set an ottoman between his dresser and the wall, effectively barricading the sleeping puppy in the corner. That should keep her out of trouble if she awoke.

After dressing with meticulous care, he stood in front of the mirror in the upstairs bathroom, running an electric razor over his stubbly jaw. A splash of cologne and he’d be out the door.

“Hey, Drew, could you come in here a minute?”

Drew clenched his jaw. Russell. He still hadn’t moved out yet. How long did it take to pack a knapsack?

“I don’t have a lot of time,” Drew said, hurrying toward the guest room. “What do you need?”

Russell stood in front of his bedroom closet. “I just wanted to tell you goodbye.” He held out his hand. “Thanks for everything.”

Drew reached out to shake hands, then his eyes widened in horror. Russell’s entire hand was covered with bright red blood.

His head grew woozy. He reached out to grab the closet doorknob as his knees buckled. From far away he heard the sound of Russell’s voice. He sounded amazingly calm for a man bleeding so profusely.

“I know I don’t deserve her, Drew. But I won’t let my Lovebug get squashed by a heel like you.”

Then everything went black.

Her mouth hurt from smiling, but she didn’t know how else to hide her growing uneasiness. He was late. Only five minutes late, but the patrons in the crowded restaurant were already starting to whisper. She glimpsed Gina and Pam sharing a table in the corner. They were trying very hard not to look worried.

Rachel ordered a glass of wine from the waiter, then sat back in her chair, her gaze riveted on the door. Any moment now, she’d see him walk through it. And he’d have a wonderful excuse for running late. There was a lot of tourist traffic on Valentine’s Day. The streets were still a little icy, so he had to drive slow. Maybe he even had car trouble.

Seven-fifteen and still no sign of Drew.

News reporter Candi Conrad got out a cigarette and moved to the smoking section of the restaurant to flirt with a muscle-bound waiter. One of the cameramen made a call on his cell phone. The violinist hired to serenade the most romantic couple bellied up to the bar.

By seven twenty-five Rachel had memorized the entire menu. She’d give him five more minutes, then order the bottomless bowl of chicken soup so she could drown herself in it. As the seconds slowly ticked by she realized she couldn’t even wait that long. Not with everyone staring so pitifully at her. With a fake smile to all the reporters, she pushed back her chair and headed for the ladies’ rest room. Gina and Pam followed close on her heels.

“I can’t believe he stood you up!” Gina exclaimed after the door closed behind them with a swoosh.

Rachel checked under all the stalls in case a reporter lurked inside, but they were empty. Then she turned on the heel of her Italian suede pumps. “Me, neither. Now what am I going to do? I can’t go back out there and pretend nothing is wrong.”

Pam held out both hands. “Just stay calm. This is a small crisis. We can handle it.”

“It’s a disaster,” Rachel exclaimed, pacing back and forth. “I’ve just been stood up in front of the entire town. It will probably be the lead story on the local news tonight. How will I ever live this down?”

Gina shook her head, her mouth pressed into a thin, angry line. “You were right about Drew Lavery all along. The only reason he was romancing you was to stop the boycott. But I can’t believe he’d have the nerve to embarrass you in public like this. Talk about poor sportsmanship!”

“And to think I believed him when he asked me to be his valentine last night,” Rachel said, slumping against the sink. “He looked so sincere. I actually felt guilty about turning him down. Was that really just another ploy?”

“Face it, Rach, the guy is a rat.” Gina narrowed her eyes. “And do you know what we do when we come across a rat?”

“Scream and put the house up for sale?” Pam ventured.

“No, we exterminate them,” Gina said. “Do you remember that movie
Thelma & Louise?”

“I’m not ready to blow him away. Yet.” Rachel closed her eyes. “Even though hurtling off a cliff sounds preferable to facing Candi Conrad and her cotton candy questions. What am I going to do?”

“Stay in here until the restaurant closes?” Pam suggested. “I have a deck of cards in my purse.”

Rachel shook her head. “No, I’ve got an even better idea.”

“A Twinkie binge?” Gina guessed.

“No more Twinkies for me.” Rachel kicked off her shoes. “I’m going out the window.”

“Rachel, no!” Pam exclaimed, grabbing her by the arm. “I won’t let you throw your life away. Especially over a jerk like Drew Lavery.”

“Relax, sis,” Rachel said, “we’re on the first floor this time. I’m only going out the window to avoid all those reporters. I don’t want any distractions when I track down Drew. Especially when I tell him exactly what I think of him.”

“Track him down? I’m not sure that’s such a good idea,” Pam warned. “Why don’t you just try to forget about him? He’s not worth the effort.”

“But I am.” Rachel reached up to unlatch the window. “When Russell left me last year, I just let him go. I never tried to find him or contact him. I never demanded any answers. Instead I wallowed in Twinkies for six months trying to figure out why he didn’t want me anymore. I’m not going through that again.”

“But you were engaged to Russell,” Pam countered. “He did owe you answers. Drew is a different story. You two have only gone out on one date.”

“Pam’s right,” Gina said. “Drew never should have humiliated you in public this way, but just think how much more embarrassed you’ll be if you go chasing after him.”

Rachel considered their arguments. It would be so easy to give up. To go home with some of her pride still intact. But her heart wouldn’t let her surrender so easily. Especially since she’d fallen in love with the man.

“Look, I can handle rejection.” Rachel looked from Gina to her sister. “But I can’t handle not knowing the truth. I need to find out if I ever meant anything to him, or if our date and that kiss, and last night were all part of the game.”

Pam looked as if she might cry, and Gina looked even more homicidal than usual.

“Don’t worry,” Rachel assured them, as she swung one leg over the windowsill. “I’ll be fine. Just try to distract all the reporters until I make my getaway.”

She dropped down into a snowdrift on the outside of the building. Shivers coursed through her as Gina passed her shoes through the open window. But they were shivers of anticipation. She couldn’t wait until she got her hands on him. Literally speaking. By the time she was through with Mayor Lavery, he’d wish she’d stuck to snowballs.

Rachel waded through the snow until she reached the parking lot, then slung her shoes on her frozen feet. “Ready or not, Drew. Here I come.”

DREW OPENED HIS EYES, wincing at the bright, bare lightbulb shining above him. He blinked twice, his head still foggy. A faint hint of mothballs mingled with the musty odor invading his nostrils. He sat up on his elbows and looked around. He was in the closet.

It was actually a small dressing room that he’d converted into a walk-in storage closet. The lightbulb illuminated the shelves lining the walls, piled full of boxes. He lay on the dusty wood floor, wondering how he got in here. Then he remembered Russell and all that blood. His head swam again for a moment, then cleared.

He had a date with Rachel.

He swore under his breath as he checked his watch, then lunged for the door. It was locked.

He frowned at it for a moment, trying to make sense of the situation. Why was he locked in the closet? How did he even get in here? And where was Russell? Drew pounded on the solid oak door with his fist. “Russell, are you out there? The door’s locked. I’ve got to get out of here right now.”

“Give it up, Lavery,” Russell called from the other side of the door. “It’s no use.”

“What are you talking about?” Drew shouted. “Open this damn door before I break it down.”

“No way. I locked you in there to keep you away from Rachel. So you might as well get comfortable. You’re not going anywhere for a while.”

Drew gave the door a vicious kick, barely making a dent in the wood but almost breaking his big toe. He hopped around inside the closet, gritting his teeth at the pain. Breaking down the door was not an option. He’d have to use his brains instead.

“Listen, Russ, just open the door and We can talk this out. I know you’re upset about losing Rachel...”

“You don’t know anything, Lavery,” Russell said. “Rachel Grant is the most decent woman I’ve ever known. And I won’t let her be hurt by a user like you.”

“Hey, I’m not the one that left her for a dung beetle,” Drew shouted, his temper overcoming his good intentions. “Why didn’t you just stay lost, Baker, instead of coming back here to stir up trouble?”

“It’s a good thing I did come back,” Russell countered. “To save Rachel from making the biggest mistake of her life.”

“You were the biggest mistake of her life. You hurt her once, and now you’re determined to hurt her again. How do you think she’ll feel when I don’t show up on our date tonight?”

“Relieved,” Russell exclaimed, “once I explain the reason.”

“You’re planning to tell her you kidnapped me? That will be hard to do from a jail cell. Think it over, Baker, you’re a smart man. And kidnapping is a crime.”

“This isn’t kidnapping,” Russell said, not sounding at all worried at the prospect of studying insects behind bars. “You fainted in the closet, the door accidentally closed and I’m looking for the key. Don’t worry, I should find it in a couple hours.”

Drew resisted the urge to kick the door again. A couple of hours? So much for his date with Rachel. He didn’t even want to imagine her sitting at the restaurant. Alone. Waiting for him. He closed his eyes and groaned, envisioning the media attention always given to the Most Romantic Couple contest. He could see the headline now: Mayor Comes Out Of The Closet. Would Rachel ever forgive him? What if she didn’t believe his story? It was his word against Russell’s, and getting kidnapped by an entomologist sounded even more unbelievable than getting lost in the African bush.

“You might as well get comfortable,” Russell said. “There’s a thermos of coffee in there on the floor and a couple of entertaining entomology texts. You never know when that kind of information will come in handy.”

“I don’t want to get comfortable,” Drew said, fed up with this ridiculous situation. “I want Rachel.”

Russell snorted. “Give it up, Lavery. You never wanted Rachel. You just wanted to win your bet.”

Drew closed his eyes, dread filling him. “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t you remember the wager you made with your mother? Fifty bucks to get Rachel to drop the boycott by Valentine’s Day. I was standing outside the kitchen this morning long enough to hear it all.”

“You don’t understand.”

“Oh, I understand perfectly. And I’ll wager that the only reason you’re so hot to make it to that restaurant is because you’ve got another bet on the line.”

Drew decided at that moment to donate all the money from those ridiculous bets to charity. And he’d kick in an extra hundred to pay for his stupidity. “It was a mistake. I made those bets before I even knew Rachel.”

“Bets? Plural? See, I was right. You really are a jerk. And you’ve been stringing Rachel along for the sake of a few lousy bucks.”

This time Drew wanted to kick himself instead of the door. “You don’t know anything about me. I happen to love her.”

His heartfelt proclamation was greeted with another derisive snort. “Right. Well, we’ll just see how she feels about you after I tell her about your little gambling problem.”

Drew pounded on the door with both fists. “Just let me out of here and I’ll tell her myself.”

“So you can put your own spin on it? No way, Lavery. You politicians can make anything sound good.”

“You can’t keep me away from her forever,” Drew countered, looking frantically around the closet for a hairpin so he could try to pick the lock.

“I don’t need forever. I’m going over to her place right now to tell her the truth. By the time I’m through she’ll never speak to you again.”

Drew dug through boxes, throwing old trophies and track medals on the floor around him and tipping over the thermos of coffee. Small drops of coffee seeped through a crack in the lid, soaking into the cover of a book entitled:
The Wonderful World of Insects.

“She won’t take you back, Baker,” Drew shouted, “no matter how she feels about me. So if this is some ploy to win her heart, it’s going to backfire on you.” He heard heavy footsteps on the other side of the door, then the distinct sound of a coat zipper.

“I know it’s over between Rachel and me,” Russell said, sounding resigned. “We can’t ever go back. But I still care about her. And I refuse to let you hurt her.”