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Good, he thought, then gunned the engine. She wouldn’t sleep much tonight.
There again, neither would he.
CHAPTER SEVEN
HOLLY was doing two hospital orders the following Monday morning, day-dreaming about Richard’s call the previous night at the same time, when the bell on the shop door tinkled and his mother walked in.
Holly tried not to panic. Richard had warned her last night during his two-hour-long phone call that he’d told his mother about taking her out to dinner on Saturday night. Mrs Crawford had been surprised, apparently, but pleased.
The look on Mrs Crawford’s face, however, was not the expression of a woman who was pleased. More like one who was perplexed.
“I came to thank you for the lovely flowers,” she began with a puzzled frown wrinkling her high forehead. “And to tell you how pleased I was to hear that Richard had taken you out somewhere nice on Saturday night. But I just noticed the FOR SALE sign on the window. Richard never mentioned that. Why are you selling, dear? Isn’t the business going well?”
Holly heaved a great sigh of relief that this was what was bothering Richard’s mother, not Holly’s social or educational status. For a second there, she’d worried that Mrs Crawford thought a suburban florist wasn’t good enough to date her precious son.
“It’s not my idea, Mrs Crawford,” she said. “The business is actually doing quite well nowadays.”
“Don’t tell me. I can guess. It’s your stepmother.”
“Afraid so.”
“But that’s terrible. She has no right. I knew your father. He wanted you to have the business. You have to take that woman to court, Holly. Get what’s rightfully yours.”
Holly winced. Like mother, like son.
“I’d rather not, Mrs Crawford. Going to court is always so time-consuming. And nasty. And expensive.”
“Richard has an excellent legal team at the bank. I’m sure he could help. I could ask him for you.”
“He’s already offered,” she confessed, “and I refused.”
Mrs Crawford rolled her eyes. “You’re just like I used to be. Too soft. Life is cruel to soft women, Holly. You have to stand up and be counted. Act like a man, sometimes. I used to kowtow to Richard’s father all the time. Frankly, I used to kowtow to everyone. But not any more. I don’t intend spending the rest of my life turning the other cheek, or staying at home all the time. I’ve always wanted to travel, but I was too nervous to go alone. But I feel perfectly safe with Melvin. He’s such a sweetie, and so knowledgeable about the world.”
Holly didn’t want to douse the woman’s excitement by saying that she’d already had a detailed report about Melvin’s good points from Richard last night, including his opinion that, the sooner the pair of them got married, the better.
“Sounds like Melvin might become more than just a travelling companion,” Holly ventured.
A self-satisfied expression zoomed into Mrs Crawford’s blue eyes. “Maybe. I’m not about to rush into anything. But you know, Holly, there’s no better way to find out a couple’s compatibility than to go away together somewhere. Being together twenty-four hours a day finds out the flaws in a relationship, I can tell you. I can still remember my honeymoon,” she said, and actually shuddered. “If Melvin and I are still happy with each other after two months, then we might tie the knot. I have to confess that I have liked what I’ve seen so far. Melvin is a very good-looking man. And he has the most beautiful home. It’s in one of Strathfield’s best streets.”
“Yes, but can he play bridge?” Holly asked, rather mischievously.
Mrs Crawford laughed. “You know me well, don’t you, my dear? Yes, of course he can play bridge. It was the first thing I asked.”
“In that case, you have my seal of approval. I…” The phone suddenly ringing made Holly forget what she was going to add.
“Would you excuse me a moment?” she said.
“A Flower A Day,” she answered.
“Won’t keep Richard at bay.”
Holly immediately went hot all over. For a man who was on the conservative side in the flesh, he was quite the flirt on the phone. By the time he’d hung up last night she’d been as turned on as she’d been the previous night, tossing and turning in her bed into the small hours of the morning. And he hadn’t even touched her. Just talked to her.
How would she react when he started making love to her? And he was going to. Next Saturday night. She just knew it.
“I’m sorry,” she said, a shiver running down her spine, “but I have a customer and I can’t talk right now. Could you possibly ring back a bit later?”
