The Playboy's Plain Jane
"…and I think a few lilies," Mrs. Johnson said sadly,
"Gertrude did love lilies."
Katie's eyes slid to the clock. Nearly one o'clock. She couldn't very well stop midorder—especially for something as sensitive as a funeral wreath—to go look out the window. But when Mrs. Johnson had come in a full ten minutes ago, she had indicated she was in a hurry. They should have been done by now!
Aware of a certain despicable powerlessness, Katie set down her pen. Well, she did own The Flower Girl, after all. She was the boss. If she wanted to go look out the window, she could do that!
"Excuse me for just a sec," she said.
"Something in the window, um, needs my immediate attention."
Ignoring Mrs. Johnson's bewildered glance toward a window that held an eye-catching display of nonattention-needing spring bouquets, Katie stepped out from behind the counter, walked swiftly to the window. She toyed with a vase of bright phlox that represented the new hopes and sweet dreams of the coming of spring.
Right on time, the man she despised more than any other rounded the corner of First Street, onto Davis. Dylan McKinnon was coming fast, a man who would have scorn ... read full excerpt from: The Playboy's Plain Jane ebook
