Page 5 of Love in Bloom

“Doesn’t matter what you call it, it still isn’t going to happen.” She shrugged her narrow shoulders.

“I wouldn’t be so sure. I’m pretty good at turning a can’t into a can and a won’t into a will.”

Wren studied him. “What are you going to do? Subpoena me?” She gripped the edge of the countertop behind her.

“I’d rather not, but if I have to, I will.” Miller looked her in the eyes. He didn’t want to, but it looked like this was the only way he’d get the records. He’d hoped to maintain a friendly relationship with Wren, but from her narrowed eyes and ramrod straight back, he guessed that wouldn’t happen.No friends-and-family discount for me then.

Wren walked around the counter, past Miller, and thrust open the front door. “Goodbye, Counselor,” she said through clenched teeth. Miller hesitated, hoping there was a way to salvage the situation, but he could tell that keeping her client’s information confidential was a matter of honor to Wren. She wouldn’t willingly betray their trust. Knowing this would make submitting the subpoena that much harder. He nodded his head in goodbye as he left. She pulled the door closed behind him.

Miller sprinted back to the office, avoiding most of the puddles, but the splashed water soaked the bottoms of his suit pants. The visit to Wallflowers was the last item on his calendar for the day. Miller shoved files into his briefcase, eager to get home and change into dry clothes. He had a busy night ahead of him—pizza, Twins’ baseball, and a hot date with a subpoena draft. “Stubborn woman,” he muttered as he turned off his office light and closed the door.

Wrengrabbedthepanof frosted chocolate brownies in one hand and her maxi skirt in the other and scampered up Jackson’s sidewalk. She was late, and she hated to be late. She’d like to blame it on the brownies—she could say they hadn’t cooled down quickly enough and she’d had to wait to frost them—but the truth was Wren had dilly-dallied all day long getting ready for Jackson and Emily’s barbeque. She hadn’t wanted to go and she didn’t want to be here.

She’d much rather be in her cramped apartment above Wallflowers, standing in front of her easel and blending the paints on her palette. A few hours of painting would soothe her soul instead of the thrashing it was about to take.

She liked Emily. They’d become fast friends since Wren had moved to Haven a few years ago. But the thought of watching so much happiness and love made her sick to her stomach. Wren knew that just because her marriage had ended in divorce didn’t mean everyone’s would. She truly wished the best for Emily and Jackson, and she was happy they were happy, but she still didn’t want to spend her evening surrounded by so much happiness. It brought back too many sad memories for her.

Instead of wallowing in self-pity, she focused on her current source of frustration: Miller Lynch. She’d thought it had been an idle threat, but less than a week after she’d turned him down, he’d subpoenaed her work orders. Leave it to a lawyer. She’d told him no, but had he listened to her? Oh, no. He ignored her and played his lawyer card to help his client. Didn’t her rights count for anything? Every time she thought about it, her blood pressure spiked.

Wren took a deep breath and reminded herself it would do her no good to get wound up when Trouble would also be at the party. In Knoxville, she’d been a prisoner of the high-society ladies-who-lunch-and-sit-on-social-committees. While there had been a few genuinely nice people in her old crowd, she knew most of them would stab a friend in the back as she threw her under the bus. You always had to watch your back and your step. Protect yourself and trust no one.

She’d dropped her superficial cold persona when she’d left Tennessee, but maybe now it was time to put it back on. It might be the only way to get through this evening without embarrassing either herself or Emily.

Armor up!she reminded herself as she put on her ice-maiden face and stepped onto the deck. Groups of people were scattered around the large deck, which overlooked the Poplar River. It was a perfect early fall day—bright blue sky, warm sun, and a gentle breeze. Ideal for an outdoor party. Wren caught the smell of burning wood and sweet barbeque sauce in the air. Her stomach grumbled, reminding her she’d forgotten to eat lunch again.

Wren nodded “hello” to a few of the women as she moved toward the long food table. Emily breezed up to her, the picture of happiness. “I’m so glad you’re here!”

Wren handed her the pan of brownies. “I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.” The lie slid off her tongue like melted butter.

“These look delicious, but you didn’t need to bring anything.”

“I know, but my momma always said to never show up empty-handed. Is there anything I can do to help?”

“No, I think we’re good. Jackson is babying his grill, because, you know, there’s fire involved and women can’t be trusted with that.” Emily rolled her eyes. “Let’s set these down and go get something to drink. Running around all afternoon has made me really thirsty.”

They made their way across the large wraparound deck toward the makeshift bar. A few bright yellow fall mums added spots of color to the otherwise manly-looking deck. Emily’s touch, no doubt.

Tables were scattered here and there, but it looked like it wouldn’t be a very large party, maybe twenty to thirty people.Crap, thought Wren. It was much easier to maintain her facade in a large group of people where everything was shallow and quick. Fewer guests meant longer, more detailed discussions with people. Intimacy. Wren doubled her resolve. This evening was important to Emily, which made it important to Wren. If it got too bad, she’d plead a headache and leave early or, at the very least, escape to the oversized lounger she’d seen tucked into a corner of the deck on the other side of the house. Cowardly, yes, but sometimes self-preservation was all that mattered.

“Hello, Wren.” She startled when she heard the deep, smooth voice. She’d been so busy surveying the scene and plotting how to survive the evening, Wren hadn’t seen the danger right in front of her. Trouble stood behind the bar.

“Counselor.” Wren hoped her voice sounded steady.Cool and calm. Be the ice maiden, she reminded herself.

“Another water, Emily, or are you needing something stronger?”

“I’d like something stronger, but I’d better stick with water.” Miller loosened the bottle cap and handed it to her. “Wren, grab something to drink and mingle. I need to go check on Croix and Krista.”

“They’re fine,” Miller said as he pulled off his sunglasses and stuck them into his shirt. “They don’t need a referee.” Wren didn’t know what they were talking about, and Emily must have noticed her confusion.

“They were arguing when they arrived, so I gave them the job of prepping vegetables. The kitchen is tiny, and I thought the close proximity would force them to solve their issue.” Emily cringed. “I gave them knives.”

“Bickering is their version of foreplay and if they ever figure that out, our world will be a lot more peaceful,” Miller said.

“Go check on them,” Wren encouraged. “And if there’s any blood, I’ll help you clean it up and get rid of the body.”

“A true friend,” Emily said. She gave Wren a one-armed hug before running off to check on the potential crime scene.

“What would you like? We have beer, hard cider, lemonade, and water.” Miller pointed out the various bottles and cans on ice.

---