Page 20 of Love in Bloom

“Miller.” She greeted him with a fake smile plastered on her face.

“Progress, finally,” he teased and placed his hand on the chair across from her. “Mind if I join you for a few minutes?” Before she answered, the server arrived with her desserts. “Unless you have company,” Miller said, watching the server set two desserts on the white tablecloth.Oh, what the heck, she thought.You only live once.

“Please, stay. I couldn’t decide on dessert, so I ordered both.”

“My kind of decision,” Miller said, smiling as he sat down.

Wren crossed and uncrossed her legs under the table, not an easy task in her pencil skirt. She’d always loved the royal blue and purple accent colors against the black wool. Inviting Miller to dine was probably not a wise idea. But she was suddenly lonely, and she didn’t want to be alone anymore tonight.

“How was your party?” Wren asked, remembering her manners and breaking their much too comfortable silence.

“More duty than party, I’m afraid,” Miller said. “Dinner with the partners and their families is not my idea of a party.”

“Get used to it. When you become partner, you’ll have to do even more with them. It’s nice that you all seem to get along well, though.” Yep, she was on a fishing expedition. She should be ashamed, but she wasn’t.

“For the most part. Overall they’re good people.” Miller looked at her, waiting. “Really? No comeback? No lawyer slam?” He leaned forward and she saw the mischief in his eyes.

“Well, since your group keeps me in business, I really can’t complain.”

“The flowers in the center of the tables were pretty, by the way. Just like you this evening,” Miller said. Wren noticed that the mischief in his eyes had turned appreciative and a bit dangerous. She felt her face flush. It had been a long time since she’d had a personal compliment. Her shallow ego cheered.

“Thank you. I had a meeting at the First Lutheran Church to finalize the decorating plan, so I thought I should dress up.” Wren turned in her seat and stretched her legs out into the aisle. Miller surveyed her from the tip of her polished boot, past the silver hardware at the ankle, and up her zippered calf.

“An excellent choice for the church ladies,” Miller said.

“A safe choice,” Wren argued.

“Well, that’s where you’re wrong. Skirts with boots are a dangerous thing to most men.” Miller leaned closer and said, “Especially tall biker boots with attitude. Almost as dangerous as the prickly women who wear those types of boots.”

Wren took a drink of ice water, hoping it would cool her down. She didn’t know what to say. Miller was flirting with her, but she was out of practice. The best course of action would be to steer the conversation to safer topics. But, oh, she’d much rather flirt with this very appealing man.

“How was your Thanksgiving?” she asked. Miller took the hint, and they spent the next few minutes catching each other up on their lives.

The server returned with a set of silverware for Miller and the champagne. If he’d taken much longer, she would have eaten the desserts with her fingers. The server poured her a glass of champagne and then moved toward Miller’s flute, but he set his crystal flute aside and asked for a cup of decaffeinated coffee. She watched Miller’s incredible hands as he unrolled his silverware. They were manly and yet somehow still elegant. Her desire to sketch them and be touched by them grew.That’s just lonely talk, she reassured herself.

Miller ate a bite of each dessert. They’d agreed to share since neither of them could decide which one they wanted more. It worked out well since Wren was more focused on her champagne than the desserts. She’d forgotten how much she enjoyed the bubbles tickling her tongue.

“What’s the occasion?” he asked. His spoon was heavy with the warm apple crisp.

Before she could stop herself, her loosened tongue confessed, “Today, I received my Decree of Divorce from the great state of Tennessee.”

Didn’t see that coming, Miller admitted to himself as Wren tried to cover up her embarrassment. She straightened her spine, and even in the soft glow from the candlelight, he saw her blush. The server slipped Miller’s coffee in front of him and filled Wren’s empty flute.

“Well, that does sound like something to celebrate.” Miller lifted his coffee cup and Wren joined with her glass. Miller doctored his coffee with cream and sugar. Not his normal routine, but neither was finding out the woman who floated in and out of his thoughts was married. Or had been until a few hours ago.

He wasn’t against divorce or anything. In fact, divorce kept a roof over his head and added to his savings account each month. But if he controlled his caseload, he’d have fewer divorce cases and more estate planning and contract work. Wren tilted her head to the side and studied him. Was she looking for judgment? If so, she’d have to look elsewhere.

“I hope I haven’t shocked you.” Wren dug her fork into the chocolate cake. Miller was happy to see her eat something, considering all the champagne she’d been drinking.

“No. Not shocked, just surprised. I didn’t know you’d been married.”

“No one does, and I’m not anymore, so no one needs to know.” She took a sip of the champagne and gave him a look that seemed to plead with him to keep her secret. She shrugged and looked down at her lap before looking up again. “It makes sense to me and I’d like to keep it a secret.” Wren played with the crystal flute. She fidgeted and looked around the room as though she was checking to see if anyone else had heard her.

“Well, now that I know your secret, it makes more sense.”

“What does?”

“The things you have. Your stuff never seemed to match your hard-working, small-business-owner persona, and that always puzzled me.” Miller shrugged.

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