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“My girlfriend.” He grinned saying the word, not even knowing whether it fitted.
“Hi, Mr. Quigley. Your flowers are ready.” The plump, cheerful florist handed him a bouquet with a yellow rose, a blue-and-yellow iris, and another blue-purple flower Justin recognized but didn’t know the name of.
“Thank you, Patty.” The old man nudged Justin. “These are for my wife. We got married on Valentine’s Day. Our wedding bouquet was supposed to look like this, all yellow and blue. But the florist shop burned down that morning and we got nothing. I promised her I’d give her the same flowers every year to make up for it, and I have. Sixty-one bouquets on sixty-one Valentine’s Days. Women love flowers. Your girl will, too.”
“I hope so.”
“I know so! You going to marry her? Nothing like a Valentine’s Day proposal. They love those, too, right?” He beamed at Patty, who nodded agreeably.
Justin chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck, oddly excited. “We haven’t been dating long.”
“Ach, don’t give me that ‘too soon’ crap. You know or you 196
don’t. How did you feel the first time you met her? On your first date? Giddy? Crazy like you drank too much?”
“Yeah.” Justin glanced at Patty, who was smirking, but not unkindly.
“Then she’s the one!” The man smacked his hand down on the counter. “You young people make everything about love so bloody complicated. Marry her! You won’t regret it.”
The excitement peaked. What the hell was Justin doing even listening to this guy? “I wasn’t really planning to—”
“Trust what you have together.” He raised a long, bony finger. “Be honest, play fair and pay attention when she talks.
You’ll do fine.”
Justin started feeling as if he’d landed in some alternate universe. Ask Candy to marry him? When he was nervous even buying her roses? “That’s all it takes, huh?”
“Simple, simple.” Mr. Quigley’s pale eyes gleamed. “Is she beautiful?”
“Very.”
“Sweet-tempered?”
“Yes.”
“Generous?”
“Absolutely.” Justin found himself chuckling. The guy was too much.
“Strong, too? So she won’t lean on you all the time?”
“Definitely.”
“You know what?” The old guy leaned closer, nudged Justin again with his sharp elbow. “I think you’re the lucky one.”
Justin joined in with the man’s wheezy giggle. “I think you might be right. Thank you, sir.”
“Ach, you don’t need to thank me.” He waved Justin away and turned to Patty, digging his wallet out from worn, baggy pants. “Now, what do I owe you?”
Justin left the shop, strangely moved by the encounter. If the way he felt on the first date really was an indication, Justin would have asked Candy to marry him halfway through his appetizer at Cempazuchi. And then had to wait while she laughed herself under the table.
At least tonight would be a memorable evening. He had the flowers and was on his way to Sendik’s supermarket for a box of Omanhene dark milk chocolate, made in Milwaukee from beans grown exclusively in Ghana, which Troy told him was some of the best chocolate in town.
Miraculously, he’d called around this afternoon and landed a cancelled reservation at Bartalotta’s Lake Park Bistro, one of Milwaukee’s finest restaurants.
Take-out pizza and Star Wars? Nope. She was getting the works. Minus a ring, which he really thought would be over the top no matter what Mr. Quigley decided.
The only possible flaw was that Candy wasn’t likely to dress up enough for the restaurant if she was expecting to hang out at home. Justin didn’t care, but she might not like to go to a fancy place in jeans. He’d go over early with the flowers and let her know she should be dressed for another surprise.
Justin grinned and whacked his steering wheel. He couldn’t wait. Couldn’t wait to see her. Couldn’t wait to please her.
Couldn’t wait to make love to her.
He passed a jewelry store on Silver Spring and, as if it had a mind of its own, his car turned, his foot hit the brake and he pulled into a parking space just vacated outside.
