Bidding on Her Boss(24)

"So, Faith," Lee said, "tell me why you love the Ruby Iris so much. What's special about this new flower?"

Faith steeled herself. She had to answer this time. She needed words. Any words would do. "Well, Lee, it's red."

Lee raised her eyebrows as if to say, Is that really what you want to go with?

Dylan leaned forward. "Of course, there are many red flowers, but there  haven't been any red irises before now." He nodded at Faith,  encouraging her to pick up the thought and run with it.

"That's true," she said, aware she was probably speaking too fast, but  at least her vocal cords were working now. "The most popular iris has  been the traditional purple, and a customer favorite is the white, and  there has been pink-"

"Okay," Lee said cutting her off, "how about you show us more about  this flower. We have a few things over here waiting for you."

"I'd love to," Faith said, relieved she could finally do something she  was comfortable with instead of mindlessly listing flower colors.

The guy with the microphone headpiece waved at her to stand and pointed  to the counter he'd shown her earlier. Lee followed him over, and the  cameras panned to track their progress.                       
       
           



       

Faith stood behind a gleaming white counter with all the flowers and  tools they'd brought along with them neatly laid out, and sent up a  silent prayer that she didn't mess this up. Hawke's Blooms was counting  on her. Dylan was counting on her.

Lee was at her side. "What are you going to make for us today?"

Faith's nerves were rising, threatening to take over; she tried to  breathe through it, but it wasn't working. Then Dylan appeared at her  other elbow and passed her a single white carnation. Faith took the  flower, and the moment it was in her hand, she relaxed. She could do  this.

As she trimmed the base of the stalk, she smiled at Lee. "I'm doing a  simple arrangement that anyone at home could try. I'm going to use the  Ruby Iris, but you can substitute your favorite flower-say, daffodils or  tulips."

For the next few minutes, she worked on the arrangement, bringing the  vision in her mind to life, giving a couple of easy jobs to Lee to do so  the segment was more interesting.

When Faith was done, Lee called Dylan back into the shot and thanked  them both for coming in. Then the guy with the headphones told them they  were on an ad break. Lee rushed back to the sofa to be ready for the  next segment, a girl with a ponytail guided Dylan and Faith off the set  and within minutes, they were in Dylan's car.

Faith blinked. It was over. She'd made her first-ever TV appearance and  it had consisted of her freezing and generally messing it up. Her head  was still spinning.

"I'm so sorry, Dylan," she said as he slid into the driver's seat.

He started the car and glanced over at her. "What for?"

"You worked so hard to get that segment and I ruined it."

"You were great," he said cheerfully as he leaned over and squeezed her  knee. She'd never met someone as skilled at manipulating the truth. If  she hadn't been in the studio herself to see the train wreck, she might  have believed him.

She raised an eyebrow at him and he grinned. "Okay, so you stumbled a  couple of times, but your demonstration was great. You were  professional, yet you explained things in ways the viewers would  understand, and your love for your work shone through."

"I've let Hawke's Blooms down," she said, trying not to grimace as she  said it. She didn't want pity. She wanted to apologize. "Let you down."

"Hey, you did us proud." Before he could say anything else, his cell  phone rang in its cradle on the dashboard and he thumbed the Talk  button. "Dylan Hawke."

"Dylan, it's Ben Matthews from The Morning Show. Thanks again for coming on today."

"Thank you for inviting us." Dylan pulled out to overtake a car without  missing a beat in the conversation. "Anytime you want someone from  Hawke's Blooms back, let us know."

"I was hoping you'd feel that way. I've just been talking to a producer  from our network office in San Diego. I'd asked them to watch out for  your segment today and they were impressed."

"That's good to hear," Dylan said, sliding Faith a grin.

"They've been considering a weekly gardening segment, but now they're  interested in making it about flowers instead. Maybe how to arrange  them, keeping them alive longer, that sort of stuff. What would you  think about Hawke's Blooms doing that segment? If it goes well, we could  talk about other guest spots on our LA show then."

Dylan squeezed the steering wheel harder, but his voice remained easygoing. "We'd be very interested in doing that, Ben."

"There's only one condition they've laid down. You need to have that  woman from today's segment as the florist. Our social media went crazy  for her when she was on air."

Faith gasped and then covered her mouth with her hand in case Ben could  hear her in the background. The producers had liked her enough to make  her involvement a condition? It was surreal. And people watching had  liked her enough to comment about her?

"I'll talk to her and let you know," Dylan said.

"Well, talk quickly. They want you down there for tomorrow's show. You'll need to be in the studio by five a.m."

"I'll get back to you within the hour." Dylan ended the call and threw Faith a grin. "I guess you didn't ruin it."

"They want me," she said, the awe she felt coming out in her voice.

He laughed. "They sure do. What do you think? Interested?"                       
       
           



       

"Absolutely." This was the biggest thing ever to happen in her  career-in her life-and nothing could make her let the opportunity pass.

"Then we'd better start making plans." He turned into her street. "I'll  ring Ben Matthews back and work out the details. I'll also have my  personal assistant book us flights and rooms in San Diego for tonight.  We'll catch a late flight down and one back after the show in the  morning."

His voice had been so calm, planning the details it would take to get  them there, that at first she missed the significance of what he'd said.  Then it hit her.

"A hotel?" she said as she wrapped one arm around herself. "Us?"

Gaze still on the road, he nodded. "They want us on set at five a.m.,  and I don't want to take any chances on delays. It would be much better  if we're already in town."

"But we agreed..." She let her words trail off, wondering if she was  making too big a deal out of this since he didn't seem worried at all.

"Don't worry about it," he said, his voice a notch lower than it had  been only a minute earlier. "I'll get rooms on different floors. We'll  be fine."

Okay, that seemed reasonable. Different floors should be enough distance if they were both on their best behavior.

He pulled up in front of her house. "You pack a bag and I'll let you know the time of the flight."

"Sure," she said and climbed out. As he drove away, she sighed and  hoped she could trust herself to be on her best behavior if Dylan Hawke  was sleeping in the same building.

* * *

The flight to San Diego was uneventful, and as soon as they arrived at  the hotel, Faith excused herself to her room. She told Dylan she needed  some quiet time so that her head was together for the show tomorrow, and  that she'd order room service for dinner and read the book she'd  brought.

But it wasn't that she needed quiet so much as a break from the tension  of being with Dylan. Or, more precisely, being with him and not  touching him as her body was screaming out to do. That particular  tension was going to drive her insane.

And going insane just before going on live TV representing Hawke's  Blooms would not help anyone. She tried to drag in a full breath but it  felt as if there was an iron band around her ribs, stopping her lungs  from expanding. It might have been okay to mess up last time, but  tomorrow had higher stakes. It was the first of what could become a  regular segment. The expectations would be higher. The crew would be  anticipating someone professional. Could she be that professional?

Her cell rang, and the sudden buzzing made her jump. She checked the  screen and Dylan's name flashed up. She took a breath and thumbed the  Talk button. "Hey, what's up?"

"Just wanted to make sure you're okay."

Even over the phone, his voice had the power to send a shiver down her spine. "I'm fine. I've stayed in hotels before."

"About tomorrow," he said, and she could hear the smile in his voice. "You freaked out a little bit last time."