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The clerk dipped down and was gone for a moment. When she came back up, she handed Buck back his box, then gave Mari hers. “Thanks for shopping with us.”
They turned and headed for the door, the pain of not being able to…what? Spend the evening with him? Or the whole night? Who was she kidding? From the moment she placed those cocktail dresses in her suitcase, she had anticipated they would have breakfast together before she left tomorrow, and she knew it.
She turned to go, embarrassed that she was actually going to try to track him down. Surely, she shouldn’t feel so letdown. It was a fluke they had met at all. She couldn’t expect him to be free.
“Mari, wait,” he said.
She shook her head. “I’ve got to go. I can’t have coffee. I’ve got a meeting.” She ducked her head, took a deep breath, and plowed through the crowd. When she looked behind her, he was following, and she just couldn’t handle his pity. She increased her speed just as one of the women he’d pulled apart grabbed onto his arm. After that, she didn’t look back again.
She set the box into the backseat of her rental car and drove to the real estate agency where she would see several buildings that could work as their headquarters in San Diego.
Feeling as if she was going slowly crazy, Mari looked at her watch again as the man droned on about one building compared to another. She had taken copious notes on which buildings she liked and which she didn’t.
For the first time in her life, she was having a very hard time focusing on work. Every time she thought of Buck, she got disoriented. Trying to reclaim some control, she closed her eyes, willing some sense of calm into her body. This was an important meeting, and she couldn’t let her fizzled attraction to Sam Buckard distract her from a trip that was going to elevate her beloved family into more prosperity.
She shifted, keeping her business smile on her face to go with the hot pink linen suit and the white blouse beneath. “Thank you so much, Mr. Martin. I’ll review all these properties and get back to you as soon as I can.”
Someone made a snorting noise, and Mari refused to look to see who had actually fallen asleep. Gritting her teeth to keep from laughing, she rose and gathered up her tablet, briefcase, and her purse.
When she was in the elevator, she collapsed back against the wall, disappointed all over again. She looked at her watch. Three. She had a full night to go over everything, but that didn’t seem to bring her any joy. Once she was back in the car, she drove to her hotel and was back in her room in twenty minutes, carrying everything, including her sister’s dress.
She was staying at a former Trasker Hotel, the hotel mogul who had been responsible for the terrible No Safe Haven terror attacks in Paris, La Paz, London, and finally Sydney. It was now under new management, like all of his holdings. She indulged herself when she traveled and this particular luxury hotel was a favorite of hers with its regal and elegant eleven-story architecture, a palatial lobby with sparkling chandeliers, glossy tile floors, and Corinthian-style columns.
After dropping everything on the big bed in her suite, she changed into a pair of jeans and a big woven gray sweater with a large turtleneck. She huffed as she stared out the window, not even able to count the times she’d been here and done nothing whatsoever in the way of sightseeing. It was always about work. The view showed a bustling city, and especially this area as the hotel was near the Gaslamp Quarter, giving her access to the Zoo and Balboa Park.
It was so different from her quiet, serene home in the jungle of Costa Rica where she was so content in her roaster shed. Emotions crowded her, and she automatically shifted gears. Hmm, Gaslamp Quarter. She wondered what kind of properties were available there. Maybe on her return trip, she would scout it out…or instead of staying here inside and working, she could walk on over to the quarter and see what was going on.
Maybe her sisters were right.
She sighed, deciding to open the box and check the dress, then call her sister to show her the real deal before she buckled down to work, and blandly thought about ordering room service as her stomach rumbled.
She untied the ribbon, loving the packaging as she lifted the lid, then moved the tissue paper away from the garment. Her eyes widened and panic twisted in her gut as she looked into the box and saw…midnight blue fabric. She reached into the box and pulled out the dress. It was a gorgeous piece with gold thread and stars. She frowned. “Oh, no. Oh, God,” she cried in a strangled voice, dropping her head back. She’d gotten the wrong dress. How had that—oh, right, the clerk had mixed them up after Mari’s elbow had knocked Buck’s box off the counter. That meant…Buck had Carmen’s dress, and she had Daisy’s dress.”
She looked at her watch again, deciding whether she should go to the store now. They would be able to contact Buck, and he could bring her sister’s dress back to her.
She carefully repackaged the dress and stuffed her feet into a pair of soft leather slip-ons with a flat sole, grabbed one of her favorite coats, a knee-length, reversible tobacco brown and sky blue. It was currently on the brown side, and she slipped into it.
She grabbed her purse and the box and raced out of the suite. After getting back to Windsor, she had to fight another crowd of women back to the counter. The clerk who helped her was still there.
“Excuse me,” Mari said, flagging down the harried woman. “I’m afraid you gave me the wrong dress when you handed the boxes back to us. That man. Sam Buckard. He has my sister’s dress, and I’m leaving tomorrow. Could you contact him and tell him about the mix-up and if he could meet me back here.”
“Oh, sorry,” she said, obviously not the least bit. She tapped on the computer then wrote down a number and passed it to her. “This is where you can reach him. Good luck.”
She grasped the number and worked her way out of the store, glad to be back on the open walkway. She spied the Golden Grain and decided to wait for him there. Once she had a table and a blessedly warm cup of coffee, she pressed in the numbers.
“Hello,” he said.
“Buck?” There was that stupid breathless quality to her voice.
“Yes…Mari? Is that you?”
“Yes.”
“I got the wrong dress,” they said again in unison.
“You are going to owe me two Cokes,” he said, a teasing note infusing his deep, sexy voice. She laughed, wistful and captivated by him all over again. Was that hope that she had been wrong about him not being interested?
“I’d be happy to pay up as long as you bring my sister’s dress back.”
