He had to come up with a whole new plan.
The roses arrived at the shop on Monday. Two dozen of them. They were a vivid yellow, tinged with fuchsia edges, t
he most unusual roses Grace had seen in a long while.
Nearly hidden by the enormous bouquet, Justin carried them into her office. “Are these delicious, or what?” he demanded, looking rather enviously at the blooms. “They must have cost a fortune. That man sure has a thing for you, Grace.”
Because Justin was one of the few people who knew the truth about why Bryan and Grace had been dating, she made a face at him. “He’ll get over it,” she muttered, watching as he set the vase carefully on Chloe’s empty desk. “Just like he did all the others.”
“Mmm. I wouldn’t be so sure. I’ve been watching the two of you.”
“Go tend to our customers, Justin.”
He grinned impertinently and flipped her the envelope that had been tucked among the roses. “Chicken,” he murmured as he left the office.
Grace felt decidedly cowardly as she held the small envelope in her hands, working up the courage to open it. When she finally did, she frowned as she read the words.
Chloe prefers pastel roses. These are much more suited to your tastes. Bryan.
He was right, of course. Chloe would have found these colorful roses a bit gaudy. Grace adored them. So what was Bryan trying to prove? That he knew what sort of flowers she liked, just because he’d twice given her roses that she found beautiful?
Hardly a basis for marriage, she thought with a sniff, annoyed with him all over again.
But they really were beautiful, she thought, unable to resist leaning over just to inhale their fragrance.
On Tuesday he sent her a two-pound box of dark chocolates. And she suspected that he was well aware that Chloe didn’t like dark chocolates. Chloe preferred milk chocolate, because she thought the dark kind was too rich. As far as Grace was concerned, the darker the better when it came to chocolate.
So Bryan knew her tastes in flowers and candy, she thought, glowering at the beautiful gold box of sweets. So he noticed things like that. Was she supposed to be impressed?
The gift she received Wednesday was harder to brush off.
She carried the wrapped package to her office to open it away from her employees’ avidly curious eyes. What would it be this time? Jewels? If so, she was sending them back immediately, she decided with a scowl. Surely Bryan was aware that she couldn’t be bought.
Lifting the lid of the small box she had unwrapped, she frowned and lifted out a beautifully carved wooden box. Not just a box, she realized, turning it over. A music box. She wound it up, then opened the lid. Two intricately detailed plastic figures inside began to twirl to the tinkling notes of “Misty.”
It was one of the first songs they had danced to together, she remembered. She had almost forgotten. It stunned her that Bryan remembered.
She closed the lid abruptly, stopping the music in mid-note. And then she picked up her phone and dialed his number without having to look it up.
“This has to stop,” she said when he answered, not bothering to identify herself. “No more gifts.”
“You haven’t liked them?”
“That isn’t the point, and you know it. It’s over, Bryan.”
His reply was a silky, “Not by a long shot, darling.”
She hung up on him.
She wasn’t at all sure what she had accomplished with that terse phone call, but something told her it hadn’t been what she’d hoped. Just hearing Bryan’s voice again had renewed the dull ache that hadn’t completely gone away since she’d all but thrown him out of her apartment last Sunday. And it had been clear from his tone that he had no intention of quietly giving up and going away.
She groaned and buried her face in her hands. Just what had she gotten herself into when she’d agreed to that crazy plan of his? And how was she going to get out of it without having her heart shattered in the process? Or was it already too late for that?
Chapter Fifteen
Grace didn’t bother trying to hide her actions as she left her apartment Friday evening, her car keys in her hand. Now that Wallace Childers had been captured and she and Bryan weren’t seeing each other, she doubted that he was having her watched as obsessively as he had been before the wedding.
She hadn’t seen him since last Sunday. Nor had she received any more gifts from him since she’d called him Wednesday. Maybe he’d finally gotten the message. And maybe she would survive if she never saw him again, but there were times—particularly in the middle of the long, lonely nights—when she doubted it.