Love in Bloom by Arlene James

someone who puttered around with flowers and ribbons. How was he to know that she could create works of art with those things?
    Aware of his appearance as he hadn’t been before, Tate smoothed the front of his clean white shirt and straightened the buckle of his belt before reaching for the handle on the door of the shop. That was when he realized Lily already had a caller. He recognized the rotund, bewigged, loudly dressed fortyish gentleman on sight.
    Entering the building, he heard Dale Eversleigh say, “I think we’ll start with a standing order for a fresh arrangement once a month.”
    “That’s wonderful,” Lily said, scribbling on an order pad. She looked up long enough to greet Tate. “Hi. Be with you in a minute.”
    “No problem.”
    Smiling, she went back to business. “And what were you thinking of in terms of size and color?”
    “Nothing too large,” Dale told her, ignoring the new arrival. “Something suitable for our receptionist’s desk, seasonal colors.”
    While Lily and Dale hashed out the details, Tate occupied himself by studying the display shelves. She’d replaced a good bit of inventory; Tate assumed that meant she’d made many sales during their big Grand Opening.
    “I think it would be a good idea if we could have a copy of your catalog to keep at the funeral home,” Dale said. “That way we could show it to our clients there, perhaps even save them an unnecessary stop during their time of bereavement.”
    “That could work,” Lily said hesitantly. “Um, but were you thinking of adding a surcharge for the service?”
    Tate glanced over to see how Eversleigh took that. The corpulent undertaker shook his head, his obvious blond wig stiff and unresponsive. Capturing Lily’s hand, he patted it, pinky ring flashing. Tate folded his arms, wondering if Dale wasn’t being just a bit too familiar. Lily was not a client, after all.
    “I wouldn’t dream of it,” Dale said in a deep, velvety voice.
    Tate told himself that Dale spoke like that purely out of habit, then he caught himself thinking, That had better be the case. Shaken by the unexpected surge of possessiveness, Tate stiffened.
    Lily smiled at Dale. “I’ll have a copy of my catalog for you by Friday then.”
    “Excellent.” Dale patted her hand again. “I’ll pick it up on Saturday, shall I?”
    “That’s fine,” Lily said distractedly, removing her hand from Dale’s in order to make notes on her pad.
    Tate relaxed a bit—until Dale suddenly asked Lily, “Do you play golf?”
    Tate’s jaw dropped. Why, the old dog! Everyone knew that Dale Eversleigh had a penchant for the ladies and a passion for golf, but he was much too old for Lily. And to make a play for her with Tate standing right there! Frowning, Tate parked his hands at his belt, the list paper crinkling. Eversleigh glanced over his shoulder as if only then recalling that he wasn’t alone in the shop with Lily.
    “Ah, no,” she said, after a start of surprise. “I—I’ve never had any interest in golf.”
    Dale pursed his lips. “Pity.” He reached into the pocket of his plaid pants to jingle his keys. “Very well. See you on Saturday then. Good morning.”
    “Good morning, Mr. Eversleigh,” Lily said, “and thank you.”
    “My pleasure.” He nodded to Lily, then to Tate, and went out.
    “What a nice man,” Lily murmured as the door closed behind him.
    “Lily!” Tate erupted. “Dale Eversleigh was hitting on you.”
    “What?” She laughed and shook her head. “Oh, no, I’m sure he was just inviting me to join the golf club or—”
    “There is no golf club. Trust me on this. Dale Eversleigh considers himself Bygones’s gift to women. He was hitting on you.”
    Lily pointed out the door through which Eversleigh had so recently passed. “He… But he’s so…” Suddenly she clapped her hands over her lower face. A snort was quickly followed by giggles and several hard swallows and, finally, a deep breath, after which she lowered