Page 1 of Love in Bloom

Friday, Labor Day Weekend

Millertookalongswig of his Kaliber non-alcoholic beer and grabbed a few onion rings from the basket Parker had just set down on the table. His appointment calendar at work was full for the next two weeks, and his billable hours had increased over last month, the sixteenth month in a row. The partners at Anderson, Anderson & Swanson seemed pleased with his performance. They’d even hinted this afternoon that Miller was well on his way to making partner next year.Life is good,he thought as he wiped the salty grease from his fingers.

Summer had run its course and fall was fast on its heels. Fall was Minnesota at its best. Bright skies, leaves showing their true colors of orange, yellow, or crimson, the acrid smell of bonfires in the evenings, the crunch of dried leaves underfoot, and coaching youth soccer.

Miller couldn’t wait to get back to “his” boys. He’d been coaching them for the last four years and they were now a feisty band of middle schoolers. He hoped this was the year he funneled more of their enthusiasm into solid skills, like passing and receiving. Last season, the single moms had been more adept at making passes than their sons were. Their target was Miller, but he blocked their plays and made sure they never scored.

Romantic involvement was the last thing on his agenda. He had a plan. Make law partner by age thirty-one, then get married, and eventually start a family. Miller was a planner. His first goal was only a year away. Once he accomplished that, he’d make dating a priority and try to see one woman for more than a few dates. That is, if he could find someone who held his interest. So far, that hadn’t happened.

Unlike the three determined women heading straight for them.This should be interesting, he thought as he watched them move through the Galley. It was packed, as usual on a Friday night, and the threesome moved with their heads turning every which way, like they were searching for something or someone.

Krista steamrolled her way through the patrons like a locomotive. Her dark brown ponytail zigged when she zagged. Miller knew Krista had two speeds—warp and off—which was useful in her role as the food and beverage manager at the Haven Hart Hotel.

Rica tried to keep up, but while Krista plowed through, Rica politely went around people. She was determined yet conscientious, the same way she was with her financial clients. And then there was the reluctant florist, Wren. She was the caboose on this train set. While Krista and Rica looked like they were on a mission, Wren looked like she’d rather desert.

Miller didn’t know her that well, and he sensed she’d like to keep it that way. He suspected she’d rather hit him than hit on him. Which was odd. Most women loved him, and they appreciated his jet-black hair and bright blue eyes. After all, he’d paid his way through college and law school by modeling. While he was no longer at his modeling weight and his six-pack abs had lost some of their definition—OK most of their definition, he thought honestly as he snagged another onion ring and fried cheese curd—he knew he still turned heads.

But Wren Busch was different. She wasn’t interested. He didn’t think she was playing hard to get in order to get his attention. No, she only seemed interested in avoiding him.

Miller watched the graceful way her willowy body moved through the crowd. Like Krista and Rica, she was searching, but at a more languid pace. She eventually scanned the center of the room and when their eyes met, Miller heated up, an odd reaction given her glacial stare. Opposing counsel gave Miller that stare, not women. Wren Busch challenged him, and he loved a good challenge.

Lifesucks, reflected Wren as she, Rica, and Krista walked across the Galley. She was short-handed at work and bone-tired. It was nobody’s fault but her own. She’d foolishly told her assistant to take a few days off since it was slow at Wallflowers, her floral shop, and they were heading into the Labor Day weekend. How could she have known Haven would be besieged with birthdays, baby deliveries, and funerals?

She’d started the morning earlier than usual so she could finish the flowers for the Johnson memorial service, and she’d ended the day with bridezilla and momma bridezilla for a wedding consultation. They wanted lilacs for a December wedding at the price point of carnations and mums.God, help the groom, she prayed as she remembered the meeting.

It had been a long day, and it didn’t help that the days were getting shorter. She didn’t mind fall, which was right around the corner, but she hated winter when Mother Nature replaced warm days and cool nights with cold days and frigid nights. She’d been through two Minnesota falls and winters, and while she appreciated the beauty of fall, she longed to be like the snowbirds who moved south in the winter. Life was hard enough without having to deal with Old Man Winter. And shoveling. And practical boots.

To add to her sour mood, their friend Emily had stood them up for dinner! Emily hadn’t answered her phone or responded to their text messages That wasn’t like her and the three women had picked it apart over their meals. They’d explored every possibility, ranging from Emily displaying passive-aggressive displeasure at their behavior during her closet purge a few weeks earlier to her lying dead in a ditch.

Wren didn’t think it was resentment over the closet purge. Emily had seemed truly appreciative of the support and advice they’d given her about her wardrobe and about Jackson. Since Emily lived near downtown and worked there too, she walked a lot, so Rica argued against the dead-in-a-ditch theory. Krista, however, wasn’t convinced by either argument. Against Wren’s better judgment, Krista had convinced her and Rica to go to the Galley to see if anyone there knew anything. That would also give Emily a chance to respond to their messages before Krista carried through on her threat and called the sheriff.

Smack dab in the middle of the crowded bar sat every single woman’s dream and Wren’s worst nightmare: Miller Lynch. Six feet of muscular, blue-eyed yumminess. The fact that the grapevine reported he was a decent human being, even though he was a lawyer, didn’t help. Wren avoided him like the plague because liking him would derail her new life.

Krista headed right toward Miller’s table. Wren hoped the men would have an answer. She wanted to go home, but she wouldn’t be able to relax until she knew Emily was safe.

“Guys,” Krista all but shouted at the men, “has anyone seen Emily?” The men exchanged glances and shook their heads no.

“Will left for the restroom a few minutes ago. He’s your best bet. As Emily’s assistant, he knows her calendar,” Croix said.

“Ladies,” Parker said as he stood up, “why don’t you sit down while you wait? I’ll go get you all something to drink.” Wren caught the pointed looks he sent to Croix and Miller. Finally, both men remembered their manners and stood.

“Sit.” Miller edged the chair closer to Wren.

“No, thank you,” she said in clipped tones. She turned her attention toward the television monitor on the far wall.

“Come on. You look tired. I bet you’ve been on your feet all day. Please, sit,” he encouraged.

“I am tired and I know I look it. You didn’t need to point it out.” She shook her head at his rudeness.

“You don’t look ugly-tired, you just look tired-tired.”Seriously, Captain Obvious?Wren shot him an icy glare and crossed her arms, but Miller stood his ground.“Look, we can stand here and argue, or we can sit down and argue. The choice is yours, but eventually I’d like to sit. If I sit and you don’t, these clowns will give me grief about it until the day I die,” Miller explained.

“So, it’s more about self-preservation than kindness?”

“Honestly? It’s a bit of both,” he conceded with a slight shrug of his broad shoulders. Wren studied him for a moment. She was tired, and he was trying to be nice about it in a slightly manipulative way. If she didn’t sit, he’d look bad in front of his friends and the Galley’s patrons. She knew how important image was to a lawyer.

“Thank you,” Wren said reluctantly as she dropped onto the wooden chair. “I have been on my feet all day and it does feels good to sit.” She gave him a weak smile.

“Move over, Rica. That’s my seat,” Parker ordered as he placed a bottle of chilled Riesling on the table along with three empty wine glasses. Rica frowned but moved over to share her chair. Parker settled in and poured the wine. Wren noticed he looked quite pleased with himself and with his new seatmate. Krista and Croix also shared a chair.

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