could have kissed Rick. It felt so good to realise he understood. He had read Cynthia like a book. ‘It was all I could think of on the spur of the moment,’ she admitted.
With lazy nonchalance, Rick settled himself lower on the sofa. ‘This Byron fellow who rang tonight is your ex-fiancè. Right?’
Maddy nodded. ‘He—well, he called our engagement off just six weeks ago. And now—he’s engaged again!’ As a fresh wave of anger surfaced, Maddy clenched her fists. ‘And he has the gall to ring up and ask me to do the flowers for his—for crying out loud—his new wedding! But the worst thing is, he’s marrying Cynthia Graham!’
Rick’s eyes widened and Maddy couldn’t help noticing that up close, and when he wasn’t scowling, they were very nice eyes—grey with unusual little flecks of vivid blue. ‘The woman in the shop?’
She nodded.
‘So you know the bride quite well?’
Bride? The word brought sudden, stinging tears to her eyes. Six weeks ago she had been dreaming of being a bride. They hadn’t quite set a date. Byron hadn’t wanted to commit himself to a definite time frame. There were so many things to consider, he’d said. But still she’d been dreaming of an elegant white gown and a happy country-style wedding at home on her parents’ farm.
‘Yes.’ Maddy hugged her folded arms across her chest and drew in an angry breath, which emerged seconds later as a long, frustrated sigh. ‘Since the eighth grade when I arrived at boarding school. I really don’t know why I hadn’t already expected this. Cynthia has always wanted everything I ever wanted.’ She outlined for Rick a potted history of Cynthia’s competitive endeavours over the past decade.
Rick slanted her a sardonic half-smile. ‘She sounds like a real honey.’
His sarcasm was like balm to her smarting wounds. ‘Oh, she’s a sweetie,’ Maddy agreed. ‘The only area where she couldn’t compete with me was music.’ Maddy couldn’t resist a tiny grin. ‘I’m no singing star, but Cynthia didn’t have a musical bone in her body. At university she auditioned for our college choir—after I was accepted, of course. But the conductor told her she should confine her vocal talents to the bathroom, but to ensure that it had been soundproofed first.’
Rick grinned back at her. ‘That’s better,’ he said. ‘Just keep thinking nice warm and fuzzy thoughts about the two of them and then you’ll be able to pull it off.’
Maddy raised startled eyes to his. ‘Pull what off?’
‘Why, providing the flowers for their wedding, of course.’
Maddy shrank away from him as if he’d been going to strike her. ‘What? You’ve got to be joking! There’s no way I would even dream of going near that wedding. I don’t even want to organise for anyone else to do it!’
Rick grunted his disapproval and slid lower on the sofa, stretching his long legs before him. ‘That’s a pity.’
Maddy jumped up, angrily tossing her curls. ‘A pity?’ she cried. ‘What would you know about this? Have you any idea what’s involved in organising all the flowers for someone’s wedding?’
‘Tell me.’
She threw her arms wide open to try to convey the enormity of the task. ‘First of all I’d have to have them both—possibly a bridesmaid or two or even Cynthia’s mother as well—here at my flat for a consultation. Normally people come to the shop, but Byron knows I always bring special friends in here and make a little social occasion of it, so that’s what he’d expect. And while I showed them albums of examples and discussed all the different bouquet choices they would be billing and cooing all over each other! Then there’d be endless phone calls and—and decorating the church and the reception venue on the day!’ Maddy shuddered. ‘No one would expect me to do all that. Not for them!’
‘Obviously Byron does.’
His casual reply infuriated her. She clenched her fists. How could she expect this stranger to understand or care about her finer feelings?
‘But I don’t owe Byron anything!’
Rick’s puzzled gaze rested on her and Maddy felt the colour rise and fall in her cheeks. ‘No, you don’t owe him anything,’ he reassured her. ‘This Byron fellow is obviously a first-class fool. But you look like you’ve got plenty of spunk. I’m sure you can hold your own in love and war, Maddy.’
‘I wouldn’t be so certain,’ she answered softly.
‘Come on. You’re not going to let one whimper from your ex-fiancè send you crumpling in a heap like paper thrown on a fire.’ Rick raked a hand through his hair. ‘I kind of understand how you feel. In my line of work, I’ve seen plenty of defeated people. I’ve watched people fight and struggle for basic rights, only to be rejected once too often. That’s when they give up.’
‘Can you blame them?’
‘Not really,’ Rick admitted. ‘But that’s what’s so good about my work. Because it’s at that point that sometimes, by exposing the injustice, my film crew and I have been able to make a difference.’
Maddy had to admire Rick’s zeal. She could tell he genuinely cared about his work. But she didn’t see how her little problem was quite in the same league.
‘You’d be playing right into Byron and Cynthia’s hands if you let them know they’ve hurt you,’ he told her. ‘From what you’ve said, I think this Graham woman would enjoy knowing you were suffering.’
Maddy sat down again and met his grey gaze. She swallowed at the impact it had on her at this close distance. ‘Cynthia would certainly love it!’ she agreed.
She saw his serious expression brighten. ‘Then rise above her!’ he cried, thumping the sofa with a clenched fist. ‘Show her you don’t care. Don’t let either of them see that you’re hurting at all. I promise you, it will feel like a victory.’
Maddy narrowed her eyes as she considered his advice. ‘I don’t know.’ Her voice was low and uncertain.
Rick’s clenched hand reached out to trace her cheek with his knuckle. Maddy was surprised by his sudden show of tenderness. It must have startled him too. Abruptly, he rose to his feet. ‘Think about it. It’s up to you, of course, but my advice would be to take the wind out of their sails. Show them you don’t give a damn. Certainly don’t lose any sleep over them. They sound like they deserve each other.’
‘I will think about it,’ she said, standing beside him and following him to her door. ‘Thanks, Rick.’
‘Thank you for the dinner.’
‘Perhaps—another time—I could cook you a proper meal. I rather like cooking.’
‘Part of the little home-maker package?’ Rick asked.
‘I guess so,’ she said, then smiled. ‘Just look what Byron’s missing out on.’
He drew up his shoulders in an exaggerated shrug. ‘His loss. Just don’t let him gloat, by acting like a victim.’
He let himself out of her flat quickly.
Maddy
