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Authors: Kristin Gabriel

Send Me No Flowers (6 page)

BOOK: Send Me No Flowers
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Candi folded her hands in her lap, more serious now as she settled into the interview. “Tell us, Dr. Grant, why do you hate men?”

Rachel blinked back her surprise. “What?”

“Declaring a boycott against Valentine’s Day in Love, Michigan, is tantamount to declaring a boycott against men. A rejection of romance. Is this the result of relentless teasing in your childhood? Teenage insecurities? A recent relationship gone sour?”

Panic suddenly gripped her that Candi knew all about Russell.
Knew what?
That her fiancé had abandoned her for an African dung beetle?

She cleared her throat, refusing to let this interview degenerate into a tabloid talk show. This was her opportunity to make the citizens of Love understand that not everybody
loved
Valentine’s Day. “This is one of the misconceptions I’m happy to clear up, Candi. I’m very much in favor of romance. And of love. It’s very important in our society. But when we blow that importance out of proportion, it can become a problem.”

Candi nodded as she turned back to the camera. “Let’s see what our audience members have to say about this very interesting issue.”

Rachel squinted out toward the bleachers, where she saw Dave holding a microphone for a bleached blond teenage girl snapping a big wad of bubble gum. “I think Valentine’s Day is way cool. And maybe the doctor lady wouldn’t have so much trouble finding a boyfriend if she did something different with her hair.”

The audience applauded their agreement while Dave shoved the microphone in front of a middle-aged man wearing a Hooters T-shirt. “I kinda like her hair. She’s got a great lookin’ body, too. I think we should nominate her for Miss Valentine.”

Rachel’s head began to throb. How soon until they went to commercial? Then maybe she could make a quick and dignified escape from this circus.

Candi shuffled some papers on her lap. “Our research department reports that you are thirty years old, Dr. Grant. Do you blame men for your single status? Is Valentine’s Day a slap in the face? A wake-up call that you’re not getting any younger?”

“Let me get one thing straight, Candi,” Rachel said, forgetting about her hair and her dress and her promise to herself to maintain a cool, professional demeanor. “This boycott is about choices. The choice not to celebrate a day that many people find depressing. It’s certainly not a slam against love or romance.” Rachel opened the file on her lap, hitting her stride. “Candi, did you know statistics show that calls to mental health hotlines triple during the week before Valentine’s Day? This boycott is a way to remind people that we don’t have to surrender to all the hype. That it’s okay
not
to be in a relationship. And most important of all, that love is not a
requirement
for happiness.”

Candi steepled her fingers under her chin, looking pensive. “So this isn’t a personal vendetta against men? You’re not opposed to romance?”

Rachel almost laughed out loud with relief that she’d finally gotten her point across. “Of course not. I’m a romantic at heart. I love to read romance novels and watch a good love story on television.”

“But what about romance in real life?”

“I’m all for it,” she replied. “I enjoy dating.” Enjoy might not be the right word to describe her last date, but she was here to talk about the boycott, not dissect her love life. “And I certainly enjoy the company of men.”

“So are you dating anyone right now?” Candi asked,

“Well, no, not at the moment,” Rachel replied, aware of a stirring in the studio audience. “But back to the boycott...”

“Then do we have a surprise for you,” Candi announced, beaming into the camera. “A date with Love’s most eligible bachelor. Mayor Drew Lavery!”

Rachel’s mouth dropped open as Drew walked out of the wings, carrying a huge bouquet of red roses. He walked right up to Rachel, looking impeccably handsome in a gray pin-striped suit, his blue eyes twinkling.

“Surprise,” he said, presenting her with the bouquet. Then his gaze flicked up somewhere above her eyebrows. “What happened to your hair?”

 

DREW STOOD HOLDING the roses out to Rachel, feeling like an idiot.
What happened to your hair? Smooth, Lavery. Very smooth.
And on live television, too. Besides, her hair didn’t look that bad. It was a little poofy. And kind of flat on top. But he liked the way it made her appear taller. Statuesque. Even with that hair, Rachel Grant was a knockout.

Too bad she was a kooky knockout An angry, kooky knockout, judging by the sparks in her big brown eyes. He never should have agreed to surprise her on the show. But when the station had called, asking if he’d like equal time to comment on this Valentine’s Day boycott, how could he refuse? Especially since the Chamber of Commerce had held an emergency meeting yesterday. The merchants of Love were worried about the economic repercussions if this boycott grew in popularity. And they all expected him to do something about it.

Except they didn’t know Dr. Rachel Grant. So far, she’d thwarted his every attempt to discuss this boycott in a reasonable, rational manner. Even refused to return his telephone messages. Just to get her to listen to him, he’d had to resort to this surprise ambush of her on television.

“These are for you,” he said, hoping she’d accept his conciliatory gesture. They’d gotten off to a rocky start. She’d believed he was impotent, and he’d believed she was a kook. He still thought she was a kook. But maybe just a misinformed kook.

Candi squealed. “
Oooh,
just look at those beautiful roses!” She turned to the camera. “Courtesy of Fiorelli’s Florist at Ninth and Baltic. Fiorelli’s can make your Valentine’s Day a rosy one. Stop in and take advantage of their Sweetheart Specials.”

Drew inched the bouquet closer to Rachel, feeling even more foolish when she folded her arms under her breasts and glared at him. How long did she expect him to stand here?

“Don’t they make a cute couple?” Candi gushed, while the audience hooted and clapped. “Mayor Lavery, why don’t you tell us what Valentine’s Day means to you?”

He cleared his throat, eager to take advantage of this opportunity. “Valentine’s Day is vital to our economic prosperity, Candi. Hundreds of couples come from all over the state to celebrate the most romantic day of the year in Love.”

Candi whirled around to Rachel. “What do you have to say to that, Dr. Grant.”

Rachel leveled her frosty gaze on Drew. “I’d say that Mayor Lavery sounds more interested in the city’s pocketbook than its citizens. A recent study shows that some holidays, especially Valentine’s Day, can trigger feelings of loneliness and depression in a significant percentage of the population.”

Candi turned to Drew. “And your response, Mayor Lavery?”

“We all know studies like that can be biased. But numbers are black-and-white. If we want our city to prosper, we can’t afford to give into a bogus boycott just to indulge some bleeding hearts.”

“Bleeding hearts?” Rachel echoed, her voice rising. “I’ll have you know that the supporters of this boycott are tax-paying citizens who deserve to have their voices heard in this city. Especially when those taxes go to support an overblown Valentine’s Day budget that includes extravagant decorations and sponsoring a sexist beauty pageant.”

Drew dropped the bouquet onto her empty chair, ready to do battle. “Listen, Rachel, that pageant is the highlight of the celebration. Little girls all over Love dream about becoming Miss Valentine.”

She rolled her eyes. “I think you mean little boys dream about Miss Valentine, especially when she’s wearing a red-hot bikini. In the middle of February! And that includes all the
little boys
sitting on the judges panel.”

The audience gasped. Everybody in Love knew that the mayor headed up the judges panel.

Drew wondered when he’d lost control of this debate. If she wanted to fight dirty, he’d oblige her. “Jealousy is not a sound reason for a boycott. Not every woman can be Miss Valentine.”

“Jealousy?” she sputtered. “I’m not jealous. The only thing those contestants get out of the pageant is hypothermia.”

“That’s not true,” Drew countered. “The winner receives a gift certificate to Victoria’s Secret...among other things.” He cleared his throat. “Miss Valentine is also the grand marshall of the Cupid Parade. A parade your boycott is threatening to ruin. Float entries are down twenty-five percent this year.”

“My boycott is about choices, Mayor,” Rachel declared. “If you have to strong-arm people to participate in your parade, maybe that’s a hint.”

“What kind of hint?” he asked, edging closer to her.

“A hint that Valentine’s Day is more popular with the city’s merchants than with its citizens. Maybe people are sick and tired of all the hoopla surrounding this holiday.”

To Drew’s dismay, her remark provoked a spattering of applause from the studio audience. But before he could respond to her barb, Candi Conrad stepped between them as if she were a referee at a professional wrestling match.

“The sparks are flying, folks, and Dr. Grant is holding her ground. Do you think a date with our handsome mayor will make her have a change of heart?”

The audience responded with hoots and wolf whistles. Drew saw Rachel visibly pale at the prospect.

“I don’t need a date,” she said firmly.

Drew smiled at the camera, fearing their appearance on “A Look at Love” had done more harm than good. He had to hand it to Rachel, she’d actually defended this crazy boycott with style and substance. Unfortunately she still didn’t realize all the possible repercussions. He needed another opportunity to point them out to her. “Since I know Dr. Grant is both fair and open-minded, I’m sure she’ll agree to just one little date. Unless she’s afraid I’ll make her change her mind about the boycott.”

Candi Conrad turned her megawatt smile on Rachel. “How about it, Dr. Grant? This is your chance to prove you’re not a man-hater. That this boycott isn’t some personal vendetta against romance. Do you accept Mayor Lavery’s proposal?”

He realized Rachel found herself trapped in a very tight corner. But he was trapped, too. This Valentine’s Day boycott meant big trouble for the city’s economy. He knew he could prove that to her if they just had a chance to talk one-on-one. No studio audience. No patient eavesdropping in the closet. No overcaffeinated hostess.

He wanted Rachel all to himself.

The audience grew fidgety as the silence stretched between them. Drew held his breath as he awaited her answer.

“It sounds like an offer I can’t refuse,” she said at last.

He smiled, knowing by the gleam in her eye that the battle had just begun.

 

“I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU ambushed me!” Rachel cried, as she strode across the snowpacked parking lot of the television station, trying to lengthen the distance between herself and her nemesis.

His long strides easily caught up with her. “Look, I already apologized after the show. But I think you’re overreacting just a bit.”

She whirled on him, her breath coming in fast puffs of white. “Overreacting? Just because you staged an attack on me on live television? Just because you coerced me into accepting a date with you? If you’re that desperate for a date, maybe you should consider an escort service.”

“Hey, I don’t have any trouble finding a date,” Drew said, standing toe-to-toe with her. “And just for your information, I don’t have any of that other kind of trouble, either.”

She arched a brow, perfectly aware of what he was referring to, but willing to play the dumb blonde just to see him squirm. “What other kind of trouble?”

He tugged at his shirt collar and cleared his throat. “You know. That thing we talked about in your office.”

He was squirming beautifully. A crowd gathered behind him, watching and listening to their heated conversation. She recognized the girl with the bleached blond hair and several other audience members. Rachel tapped her chin with one finger. “Let’s see...what did we discuss in my office? I’m sorry, Drew, I just can’t remember. I’ll have to check your file.”

“File?” he exclaimed. “You’d better not have a file on me. There’s
nothing
wrong with me.”

“That’s what they all say.”

He leaned closer to her, his body blocking the brisk north wind. “Well, you can believe me, Dr. Grant I’m not...you know...what you accused me of before.”

“What? Of having an overinflated ego?”

He shook his head in exasperation. “You never said that. You said that I’m impotent!”

His words elicited several gasps from the crowd, followed by a snort of laughter. He glanced over his shoulder, suddenly aware they weren’t alone. Then he turned back to Rachel, his cheeks Bushed red from either cold or mortification. “Happy now?”

“Revenge is sweet,” she replied. “And now that we’re even, I suggest we call a truce. Let’s forget about this ridiculous date and go our separate ways.”

“No way. As you pointed out, we just made that date on live television. No matter how unpleasant it is for either of us, we have to go through with it now.”

“Let’s not and say we did.”

He shook his head. “I’m the mayor of this city. I can’t lie to my constituents. And believe me, Candi Conrad is going to want a follow-up story.”

“Just my luck,” she said, shivering slightly from the cold. “An honest politician. Fine, I’ll go through with it.”

“You’re enthusiasm overwhelms me. How does Saturday night sound?”

BOOK: Send Me No Flowers
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