Page 3 of Smarty Plants
There it is, just a few blocks away. I know I’ve driven by it before, but I’ve never had an opportunity to go in.
As I drive to the shop, it occurs to me that I have no idea what to say. Apparently, I’ve become the type of guy who rarely speaks to anyone outside of work while I wasn’t looking.
There’s nowayI would ask out the women who work in the cabinetry department. And my part time receptionist / assistant is my cousin, Dakota.
So far, I’ve managed to lead the company by being logical and working my ass off. Not sure how that’s going to work with asking a woman out.
My truck pulls up in front of the shop just as Iris is stepping out the door. I leap out and approach her, and she looks up in surprise. “Hi, Iris.”
She blinks. God, her eyes are stunning. “Ben, right?”
“Yes. I was in the neighborhood and wondered if you’d like to grab a coffee with me?”
She looks up and down the street, hesitating for only a moment. “Sure. Benji’s is just around the corner. Is that okay?”
“Perfect.”
A few minutes later, we’re sitting in the corner, practically the only people in the café as we clutch our coffees. Iris is so graceful, even in the way her delicate fingers curl around her mug with every sip. I’ve noticed beautiful women before. And sexy women. Never at the same time, though – and she seems very sharp, too.
“Look, I really want to ask you out on a proper date,” I begin. “You’re interesting, gorgeous, and I just feel…” I gesture between us with a finger. “Something magnetic. Do you agree?”
I love the way she blinks quickly when she’s thinking. “Yes. I do. Which is…well, strange, to be honest.”
“Hey, let’s just be super honest, okay? It’ll save a lot of time and trouble.”
Her smile sends a beam of warmth through my chest. “Good idea.”
“So, let’s think of this coffee as a meeting. The next few weeks are going to be pure chaos for me. Assuming I survive them, I’ll find somewhere for a proper date.”
“Assuming you survive? That sounds serious.”
I chuckle. “Well, I’m not being attacked by grizzlies or anything. Just some semi-impossible work stuff.”
Iris pulls that notepad from her purse, together with a pen. “I love puzzles. Shoot.”
I don’t know which is more endearing – that she wants to help me, or that she’s one hundred percent ready for action. Also, there is no question that I trust her completely. There’s a feeling that goes beyond the pull I feel toward her, making me want to wrap my arms around her and kiss those inviting lips. I need to be with Iris. It’s that simple.
“Are you sure you want me to drag you into this?”
Her smile is adorable. “Ben, I’m a problem solver. It’s what I do. Please – give me ten minutes.”
“Okay.” I stretch my shoulders, then lean forward. “The short version is, my uncle doesn’t think I can run Dad’s company, and wants to steal it out from under me.”
“Oh, gosh, I’m sorry.” Her fingers flutter to her lips. “Did your father pass away?”
“No – Mom had a serious crunch of their numbers and realized they had more than enough in savings to retire, like,yesterday. So she packed them up and Dad gave me two days’ notice that they were relocating to the south of France for the next six months while she plans out their next decade of travel.”
“Wow.” The tip of her pen taps rhythmically on the notebook. “The company was dropped on your shoulders?”
I can’t help noticing that her gaze drifts across the line of my shoulders when she says that. “Yes. But Dad always listens to his little brother Wayne, who is a lazy, sloppy, volatile idiot who’s already run two of his own business ventures into the ground and now wants to have a crack at this one.”
“Really?”
“Really. He’s always going on about how I don’t understand the business side of things. My buddy Steve heard him bragging down at the pub the other night. Wayne thinks all he has to do is stroll into my office, take some photos and find proof that it’s a disaster, then call Dad and tell him that since he’s older and supposedly wiser than I am, he should be taking over.”
“I mean, no offense…” Iris studies my eyes carefully. “But why does he assume the offices are guaranteed to look like a disaster?”
I sigh toward my coffee. “Dad… Well, he ran everything by the seat of his pants. We specialize in kitchen cabinetry, but do all kinds of built-in shelving, and minor home renovations too. Dad never paid much attention to the presentation side of our offices, and with his hasty departure it looks even more chaotic – tons of blueprints, sketches, and paper files everywhere. Wayne will say there’s no hope for me, that I’m unprofessional, and that he needs to step in to save the proverbial day. And Iknowhe’ll photograph everything to make it look much worse.”
