I rolled my eyes. “I don't mix business with pleasure,” I said, primly.
“Neither do I, usually,” Royal countered.
I rolled my eyes again. “Right. You never date locals, only hook up with hot tourists who come through the hotel. If that isn't mixing business with pleasure—”
Royal’s smile slipped. “Not the same thing. Are you saying you don't want to have dinner with me?”
I ignored his question. “Anyway, I have a boyfriend,” I said.
Royal shook his head. “No, you don't.”
“I do,” I insisted.
“Who?” he demanded.
“J.T. Everybody knows that,” I said. It was mostly true. Kind of.
Royal leaned back in his chair again, crossing his arms over his chest and raising one eyebrow. “And that's not mixing business with pleasure? He works for you, doesn't he? In fact, if you look at it that way, it's a harassment case waiting to happen.”
I laughed at the thought. “J.T.'s been my best friend since middle school. He's not going to sue me for harassment.” Realizing that made us seem less like the romance of the century, I looked away. “I appreciate the invitation. I'm flattered. But I have a boyfriend and I'm not interested.”
“Lying again, Daisy?”
The heat that hit my cheeks had me standing. “Your first order will be delivered tomorrow. I'll include the invoice. It's been a pleasure doing business with you.”
Royal stood and followed me out, his fingertips landing lightly on my lower back as he guided me through the door. “You sure about dinner tonight?”
“I told you, I'm not interested.”
Royal’s laugh followed me into the empty reception area, all the way to the elevator.
“If you say so. I'll be seeing you around, Miss Daisy.”
I very much doubted that.
And I was very, very wrong.
Chapter Four
Daisy
Daze, you've got a delivery.” I knew that sing-song tone in J.T.'s voice. I finished adding the last flower petal on the cookie I was decorating and set the bag of icing down, bracing my hands on my lower back and stretching. I love icing cookies, but it’s murder on the back.
A delivery? A delivery shouldn’t have come to the front. My cheek felt better than it had the day before, but it looked awful. I wasn't leaving the kitchen. If J.T. wanted something, he'd have to come to me.
He did, pushing through the swinging double doors from the front of the shop. I looked up, expecting to see his handsome and well-loved face. Instead, an extravagant bouquet of flowers filled the doorway, so big it blocked most of my view of J.T.
“What did you do to deserve these?” he asked, crossing the kitchen to set the flowers on the small desk in the corner, away from the food prep areas. “I don't even want to guess what they must have cost.”
Before I could stop him, he plucked the card from the front of the arrangement and opened it.
“Hey!” I lunged across the kitchen, but I was too slow. The door from the shop opened behind me just in time for Grams to hear.
“You're my hero, Daisy Hutchins. Don't think I'm giving up on dinner. R.”
J.T. raised one dark eyebrow at me, but Grams said what he was thinking. “Dinner?”
I snatched the card from J.T.'s hand, trying to tamp down my thrill at the sight of Royal's dark, angular slashes of writing. I'd assumed his spontaneous invitation to dinner had been a whim. I took in the bouquet. Lilies, roses, and a few vibrant gerbera daisies in a blown glass vase I knew hadn't come from the flower shop.
J.T. was right, I didn't want to guess what they must have cost either. I only knew it was a lot.
“Dinner?” Grams prompted again, a gleam in her eye. Dammit. I knew that gleam.
“It's nothing. He's just… He doesn't mean it. He's Royal Sawyer.” They both continued to stare at me, expectant. “You guys, he doesn't really want to go out with me. He’s Royal Sawyer,” I reminded them again.
Grams raised an eyebrow. J.T. shook his head at me. “Exactly. He's Royal Fucking Sawyer. I assume your eyes are still working. Let him take you to dinner. At the worst, it's a free meal, and Royal Sawyer is not gonna take you out for a bad meal.”
“I'm not interested in being Royal Sawyer's piece of the week. He's nice to look at, sure. And he's grateful I helped them out with the thing the other day. He feels bad I got socked in the face. That's all. It's a small town and tourist season hasn't really kicked in yet. He's probably bored.”
J.T.'s eyebrow was still raised. “That's a lot of protests there, Daze. You sure you're not interested?”
“I told him I have a boyfriend.”
J.T. shook his head. “You know you don't have to—”
I cut him off. “That's not the point. I'm not going out with Royal Sawyer.” I looked to Grams, waiting for her to back up J.T. and try to badger me into going out with Royal. She just looked from me to J.T. to the flowers and shook her head.
“You're wasting your life buried in the kitchen here, baby girl. You don't have to marry the boy, but I don’t see the harm in letting him buy you a meal as a thanks for saving his bacon.”
“I already got a thank-you. J.T. delivered the first order to The Inn, and they paid the invoice before lunch. That's all the thanks I need.”
Grams shook her head again. I knew better than to think that meant she was dropping the subject. Grams knew how to bide her time. She also believed in letting people go their own way, so it could be she really was prepared to drop it. She'd speak her piece when she decided to and not a moment sooner.
In the meantime, I had to focus on my own problems, none of which had anything to do with Royal Sawyer.
“You should at least thank him for the flowers. That's just good manners,” Grams added.
I should have known Grams couldn't let it go without getting the last word. Fine. She was right. It was a beautiful arrangement that required thanks. Later. I had special orders to fill, and more business to drum up before I could take a break.
A knock landed on the back door of the kitchen. Still lingering by the bouquet, J.T. was closest, and he moved to swing the door open. The slight figure in the doorway took me by surprise.
“Mom,” I said, my heart giving a leap of hope.
If she was here, then maybe—