Finders keepers, p.2
Finders Keepers, page 2
Well! He turned off the charm real fast.
Joseph realized he’d been rude, but short of explaining a miserable family history, which he had no intention of doing to a complete stranger, his best bet was to make as graceful an exit as possible.
“We’ve got to be going, and thanks again for finding my son. Is it okay to leave the same way I came in?”
“Yes, and as for rescuing Joey…” She resisted the urge to brush a dusty lock of hair from the child’s eyes. “It was my pleasure.”
Moments later she was alone and looking down at her burned supper. She made a face, then tossed the lot into the garbage, and headed for the kitchen to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. After this, the idea of a solitary picnic had lost its appeal.
“Found momma?” Joey muttered, tugging at his father’s hair to get his attention as they entered their own house.
Joseph stumbled. That he was in shock was putting it mildly. He looked down at the expression on his son’s face. It was the last thing he’d ever expected to hear him say.
“No!” he said abruptly.
Joey’s eyes grew wide at the tone of his father’s voice. He stuffed his thumb back in his mouth and began to work it against his tongue in a tense, almost frantic movement.
Joseph softened the tone of voice and cupped the child’s face with the palm of his hand. “She’s not your momma, son. She’s not your momma.”
Joey frowned and looked back over his father’s shoulder and out the window overlooking their front yard.
“My momma.” His answer was as abrupt and distinct as his father’s rebuttal. He glared at his father, as if daring him to argue.
Joseph grinned. His son’s developing personality took some getting used to. Although he was going on three, it looked as if he was already going to be as single-minded and hardheaded as his old man.
“Come on, boy. Let’s get cleaned up. We’ll worry about mommas later.”
It was hours later before it dawned on Molly that Joey had not asked where his mother was, but if she were his mother. The puzzle kept her awake until two in the morning. It was only by dogged determination and the knowledge that she had a busy day ahead of her that she finally closed her eyes, quit thinking of dark-haired men, and fell asleep. And when she did, she dreamed of little boys with sticky hands and kisses and never knew that she cried.
More than a week had passed since their ill-fated meeting, and in that time, Molly had yet to see sign of a Mrs. Rossi anywhere. Except for a brief glimpse of a silver-blue Cougar periodically turning in and out of the driveway next door, she’d seen nothing else of her new neighbors.
And, she kept reminding herself, after her initial reaction to Joseph Rossi, it was probably for the best. The last thing she wanted to do was even dream of another married man, although in her own behalf, she knew that it would never have happened the first time if she’d known the truth.
With one hand firmly on the steering wheel of her delivery van, she glanced down at her wristwatch, making a mental note to remind herself to take the Sixty-third Street exit off of the Centennial Expressway, and then swerved to dodge a cat who was trying to make its way across the freeway.
She grimaced, refusing to look in her rearview mirror to see if it had survived the crossing. In Oklahoma City traffic, on a Friday afternoon and forty-five minutes before quitting time, the chances of that happening were slim to none.
One more delivery and then it’s quits for the day, she reminded herself as she took the exit.
It wasn’t often that Molly Eden made her own deliveries any more. As sole owner of a flourishing flower shop called the Garden of Eden, she had good, competent help in her store, as well as a regular delivery man on the payroll. But it was summer, and to accommodate the employees’ vacations, Molly was putting in extra hours herself rather than hire temporary help.
She glanced at the rubber tree behind her, and breathed a sigh of relief as it rode out the sharp turn she’d been forced to make. The delivery van was equipped with safeguards to assure safe arrival of all sorts of plants and flowers. But there were still occasional accidents, and Molly would have hated to make the trip back to the shop to get a replacement this late in the day.
She pulled into the parking lot of the high-rise business complex, rechecked the address on the order sheet, and then jumped out and headed for the back door of the van. A few moments later, with the rubber tree firmly stationed on a small wheeled cart, Molly headed for the front door of the office building. The promise of getting out of this heat and into cool, air-conditioned comfort was what kept one foot moving in front of the other.
She went from the lobby directory to an elevator and punched the button, waiting for a car that would take her to the ninth floor and Red Earth Designs. Her luck was holding. When the car came, it was empty, giving her plenty of space in which to maneuver herself and the rubber tree.
The mirrored walls inside the elevator reflected her flushed face, weary eyes, wild curls, and the kelly green shirt and matching walking shorts that were the summer uniform for the Garden of Eden.
Before she had time to smooth her hair or catch her breath, the elevator came to a stop. She started moving before the doors were completely opened, anxious to get out before she and the tree were caught in the act of disembarking.
Red Earth…Red Earth.
She read sign after sign on door after door as she walked the length of a long, cool corridor. The wheels rolled silently along the carpeting, leaving behind small tracks in the thick pile. Once she glanced back to make certain that she wasn’t leaving a trail of dirt and leaves, and nodded with satisfaction when she saw the hall was as clear behind as it was before her. As she rounded a corner she saw the door she’d been searching for. She pulled the cart to the side and blew a loose curl from her eyes as she leaned down to retie her shoelace. Good impressions were almost as important as good products. With that in mind, Molly opened the door. The receptionist who looked up frowned at Molly’s unannounced arrival.
“I have a delivery from the Garden of Eden. It’s the rubber tree you ordered. Where would you like me to put it?”
Marjorie Weeks frowned. This young woman’s appearance had taken her aback. She’d expected the plant’s delivery, but not the fact that it would be delivered by a nubile young thing who was, in her opinion, not fully clothed.
“Be careful,” she snapped, as Molly started through the doorway with the cart. “I won’t pay for damaged goods.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Molly said, trying to ignore the fact that the woman’s frown was growing deeper by the moment, and wondered what she’d done to cause such anger.
“Just put it over there.” Marjorie pointed toward a narrow wall space in the middle of a large band of windows. “And don’t get dirt all over my carpet.”
Molly smiled and nodded, and then rolled her eyes when the woman wasn’t looking. Her carpet, indeed! If she wasn’t mistaken, this woman was nothing more than a receptionist—at the most, a secretary. She seriously doubted if she owned the darned building.
She pulled the cart around, then started to drag the potted rubber plant off the wagon and into place on the floor, moving her backside in rhythm to the motion of the pot as she slid it in place.
Joseph Rossi dumped a handful of papers into his briefcase, shoved a weary hand through his hair, slung his suit coat over his shoulder, and headed for the outer door to his office. He’d never been so ready for a Friday in his life.
The move from Mississippi to Oklahoma had been traumatic. Then losing Joey had set his teeth on edge for days. Trying to organize a new household and an office and find a competent day-care center all in one month had been, to say the least, a trying experience. He exited his office with one thing in mind. He had two days of freedom to be at home with his son.
“Mrs. Weeks, I’ll be…”
What he’d been about to say was lost at the sight of the shapely green bottom turned toward him. Her upper body—and he was in no doubt that it was a her—was lost in the leafy branches of the huge plant she was unloading. If he was any judge of shape—and, as a skilled architect, he was—he decided that the rest of her would probably do, too.
“Here, let me help,” he said, and dropped his coat and briefcase into Marjorie Weeks’s hands, unaware of the flash of anger on her face as he did so.
“No need,” Molly said, and quickly slid the plant into place. She stood and turned, started to dust her hands on her shorts, and then froze at the unexpected sight of the man in front of her.
“You!”
“Well…hello!” Joseph grinned in pleased surprise.
“My gosh! I almost didn’t recognize you with your clothes on.”
The minute Molly said it, she realized how it must sound, but it was too late to stop the angry flush of red on the secretary’s cheeks or the laughter that bubbled out of Joseph’s mouth. He took one look at the shock on Molly’s face and then laughed until tears came.
“Oh Lord, I needed that,” he muttered, when he could talk without laughing.
“Well, I darn sure could have done without it,” Molly said, then blushed when her remark brought another round of chuckles.
Marjorie Weeks glared. She was furious. In her eyes, the flip little female was nothing more than an ugly reminder of the circumstances that had pushed her back into the workforce at the age of sixty-one. Her husband of thirty years had left her for a sweet young thing half his age. She’d gone from a matron of some standing in their social circle to an aging divorcée with few job skills and a growing hatred of women under the age of thirty.
“Well! I never!” Marjorie hissed, and dropped her boss’s coat and briefcase onto the desk.
“Now, Marjorie…I didn’t either.” Joseph chuckled again and gave Molly a lingering look. “But don’t think it hasn’t crossed my mind.”
Molly gasped as the laughter died inside of her. This man was unbelievable. Here he was, a married man, and flirting outrageously in front of his hired help as if the woman didn’t exist. She smiled thinly, bit her tongue to keep from telling them both off, and tried to make a graceful exit.
But pulling an empty cart out a narrow doorway was not a simple task. The cart bumped both sides of the door, then ran over the back of her legs as well, before she managed to clear the opening. With head held high, she rounded the corner and headed for the elevator at the end of the hallway.
“Wait!” Joseph called, following in Molly’s wake.
She yanked the cart to a halt, punched the DOWN button, and stared mutely up at the wall, refusing to look at him as she waited for the light above the door to come on.
“Wait.” He slid between Molly and the door as he reached the elevator. “I haven’t had a chance to really say thank you for finding Joey the other day. You can’t know how frightened I was. One minute he was sound asleep on my bed, the next he was gone.”
The mention of the child made her give. But only an inch. Reluctantly, Molly looked up, then watched the expression on his face darken as he continued.
“You know…a new house…in a strange neighborhood. These days you never know what can happen. Joey means everything to me.”
Molly softened. She knew that the panic she’d witnessed on Joseph’s face that day had been real. She relented enough to answer.
“It was my pleasure. I’m just thankful I was home, and I’m usually not at that time of day. Summer is my busy time.”
Joseph vaguely remembered something about her working in the gardens, and today she’d delivered his plant. He came to a logical conclusion.
“So, you work at a florist?”
Molly nodded, then glanced back at the elevator and punched the button again, although she knew it was a futile thing to do. The last thing she wanted was to be standing here visiting with a man who was obviously willing to cheat on his wife.
“What’s the name of the place?”
“The Garden of Eden, and I don’t just work there, I practically live there. I own it. You know how it is, when it’s yours, there’s really no such thing as a day off.”
Joseph reassessed his perception of this woman. So, his pretty new neighbor did more than look good in shorts and rescue small boys.
“Okay, Molly Eden, when you’re not in the Garden, what do you do for fun?”
She frowned. She’d heard this come-on so many times it made her sick.
“I have friends. There’s plenty to do in a city this size.”
Joseph’s gaze kept drifting away from her face to her slender, tanned figure.
Molly rolled her eyes. Men! They were all alike. She breathed a sigh of relief as the elevator “dinged” its arrival.
“My ride is here.”
Joseph heard the elevator coming. Before he lost his chance and his nerve, he blurted out what had been on his mind ever since he’d followed her out of his office.
“Would you have dinner with me sometime?”
Disgust overwhelmed her. If she hadn’t been in a public place, she might have given in to the urge she had to punch him in the nose.
“I don’t go out with married men,” she snapped. “I’m not that kind of woman.” She was furious with herself for giving him the opening, and that her initial assessment of the man had been on target after all.
The elevator doors were standing open. Molly all but slung her cart inside and then followed, anxious to get away from the insult she’d just been dealt.
It took a moment for Joseph to get over the shock of her anger and then to realize that, from her point of view, it was more than justified. Just as the doors began to shut, he stepped into the opening, blocking it with outstretched arms and legs. The expression on his face went from teasing to tense as he answered quietly.
“I’m sorry as hell that I gave you the wrong impression. I’m not married, Molly.” He took a deep breath, then stepped back out of the doorway. “I’m not that kind of man.” The last thing he saw was the look of surprise spreading across her face as the doors slid shut between them.
Well, thank you for waiting until I’d made a fool of myself to tell me, Molly thought, then cursed herself all the way back to the florist shop where she came face to face with her assistant, Cora Tulius.
“I was beginning to worry about you,” Cora said. “I was about to send Harry to look for you.”
Molly shrugged as she shut the door and turned the lock, then swung the OPEN sign to CLOSED. She swiped a shaky hand across her face as she walked toward the counter where Cora was running the day’s receipts.
Cora’s husband, Harry, was busy sweeping up the floors and restocking the cooler where the flowers were kept for sale. The couple had worked for her since her first year in business, and now, after six years, they seemed almost like a second set of parents.
Cora handed Molly the day’s totals and then grinned, waiting for the praise that never came.
“What’s wrong with you?” Cora asked. “It’s not often we run that much during mid-July. I thought you’d be excited.” And then she noticed the pallor beneath the heat flush on Molly’s face. “Did something happen?” She frowned and swiped a hand across Molly’s forehead to test for unnecessary warmth. “I knew Harry should have made the deliveries. You didn’t have a wreck or anything, did you?” She looked over Molly’s shoulder toward the van parked in front of the store.
“No. Nothing like that. I just did something I wish I hadn’t,” she said.
Cora crossed her arms and waited like an anxious parent for Molly to confess.
“You’ve yet to do anything I’d consider foolish,” Harry offered, as he patted Molly gently on the shoulder.
“So…what’s the secret?” Cora persisted.
Molly sank down onto a tall stool behind the counter, buried her face in her hands, and groaned.
“You remember I told you that the house next door sold.”
Cora nodded. “What’s that got to—”
“Let her finish,” Harry said, interrupting his wife before she had time to create a new and bigger argument.
“I turned down an offer to go to dinner with the man, and he’s as close to a Mel Gibson look-alike as I’m ever going to get,” Molly said.
“That’s too bad,” Harry said. “You don’t go out enough as it is. If I was twenty-nine and single, you wouldn’t catch me puttering around in my backyard every weekend like you do. You should go. It’ll be good for you.”
Cora frowned. “I thought you said that the man next door had children.”
Molly nodded, then looked away.
“Then why are you regretting not dating the man? I’d have thought with your history, it would be the farthest thing from your mind.”
“Cora!” Harry said, shocked at the abrupt way his wife had reminded Molly of past sins.
“It’s okay,” Molly said. “Cora’s not saying anything I haven’t already told myself.” She hugged the older woman for assurance. “He says he’s not married. I just don’t know if I can believe him. It wouldn’t be the first time I got burned for trusting the wrong man.”
The bitter smile on Molly’s face made Cora angry. “If he’s lying to you, better to find out now, before it’s too late,” Cora warned.
Molly nodded, then glanced at the clock. “Why don’t you two go on home? I’ll lock up. Thanks for staying, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Cora hid her worries behind a quick hug just before Harry hustled her out the door.
Molly gathered up the bank bag for a night deposit and headed for her car, all the while, wondering what dinner—and other things—with Joseph Rossi would have been like.
Two
A week came and went with no further contact between Molly and the hunk. She satisfied herself with an occasional glimpse of his car and a few regrets for what might have been. But there were too many skeletons in her past for her to dwell too long upon her missed chance.
Even if the man’s eyes were the color of semi-sweet chocolate, rich, dark, and just as impenetrable. Even if he swore he wasn’t “that kind of man” either. She gave up the dreams and concentrated on the facts. And the facts were, she was busy having one of the most hectic, but profitable, summers the shop had ever run.
