"Just do what I've asked, Reece," Richard bit out. "And ring me back when they've agreed to the deal."
Reece sighed. "Okay. But be it on your head if you end up with a flower shop and no girl as well."
"I don't think that will happen."
Mondays were always slow days in the floristry industry. Holly hadn't had a customer all day. She was sitting behind her work table just after three, trying to write out a word-grabbing résumé when the doorbell tinkled.
Holly jumped to her feet just as her stepmother walked in.
Connie had always been an attractive woman. But she'd turned the clock back ten of her forty-seven years since Holly's dad had died, courtesy of a facelift done before he'd even been cold in his grave, paid for with his life insurance policy. Katie had had a few things done as well. Her big nose made smaller and her small breasts made much larger.
Holly had long been aware of the fact that Katie envied Holly her breasts. And her boyfriends. It was no surprise, in hindsight, that Katie had stolen Dave. Though Holly suspected it wasn't Katie's new big boobs that Dave wanted so much, but her source of money. Connie had never been able to deny her daughter anything she wanted. She was already talking about a big, fancy wedding.
Holly could only hope that, some day, some fortune-hunting man would come along and con Connie, as she'd conned Holly's Dad. The woman had never loved him. Holly could see that now as well.
Holly looked at her stepmother with genuine distaste as the woman walked towards her with a plastic smile on her plastic face. Even her blonde hair looked plastic.
"Hello, Holly," Connie said breezily. "I have some wonderful news."
"Really?" She couldn't imagine what.
"The shop was sold today, and I didn't have to drop the price I was asking at all."
Holly's heart started thudding. "But … but … nobody's even been in here to inspect it. Or looked at the books!"
"The buyer probably isn't interested in it as a flower shop. I dare say he just wants the property. He also wants a quick settlement. Contracts will be exchanged this Friday. Unfortunately, you have to be out of here by then. It's a vacant possession deal."
Holly felt as if someone had just punched her in the stomach. She'd thought it would be ages before the shop sold. Months and months.
"But you don't have to worry, dear," Connie continued in a sickly sweet, pseudo-conciliatory tone. "I've signed a cheque for you for ten thousand dollars. Here it is." And she placed the slip of paper on the table Holly was now holding onto for dear life. "That should be more than enough for you to live on while you find another place and another job. Which won't present a problem, I'm sure, since you're such an excellent florist."
Holly picked up the cheque, staring down at it before glancing up at her stepmother.
"You think this is enough to compensate for all the work I've put into this business?" she ground out. "I've worked six days a week since Dad died. I've taken a pittance of a salary and done the books as well. I deserve half the business, Connie. You know that."
Connie drew herself up straight, her tautly unlined face growing haughty at the same time. "I know no such thing. You've been paid quite adequately. After all, you've had a free flat to live in. Not to mention unlimited use of the delivery van. Free flowers as well!"
Free flowers! That did it. That absolutely did it!
"If you don't give me what's due to me, Connie, I'll take you to court."
Connie laughed. "Do that and you'll end up with nothing. Or less than nothing, once you've paid your lawyer and court costs. I was married to your father for eight years, missie. Judges are very sympathetic to widows, not vindictive young daughters who have the means to make their own way in life. For pity's sake, Holly," she spat, "don't be a fool!"
"I am not a fool. You're the fool if you think I'm going to let you sell my dad's business and give me nothing. You're a greedy bitch. You never loved my dad. You only married him for what you could get out of him."
"I held up my part of the bargain. Your dad wanted a sexy, good-looking wife. Well, he got one. It wasn't easy going to bed with a man I wasn't attracted to, but I did. I earned every cent I got from him and I aim to keep every cent, so don't you threaten me, Holly Greenaway. I'm a lot tougher than the likes of you. If you take me to court I'll have Katie up on the witness stand telling the judge how much of your dad's money you wasted on clothes and boys and drugs and God knows what. You want to play dirty, girl, then just watch me!"
Holly gaped at the woman. My God, she was more than a mercenary bitch. She was evil.
Connie's face turned ugly as it twisted into a sneer. "I suggest you take that money and run, because that's all you're going to get!"
Holly looked the woman straight in the eye as she tore the cheque into little pieces. "You think so? I'm going to get my dad's shop," she said with a bitter resolve. "All of it. And I won't even have to take you to court. Just you wait and see."
"In your dreams, girlie. Katie always said you were a dreamer. Be out of this place by Friday morning, or I'll have you thrown out." Spinning on her heels, Connie stormed out without a backward glance.
When Holly felt tears begin to threaten, she forced them back. No tears. Not this time. This time she was going to do what Mrs Crawford said a woman had to do sometimes.
Act like a man!
Flipping over her phone and address book, she memorised the number she'd entered under C just that morning, and which Richard had given her yesterday.
"Ring me any time," he'd said.
Her hand only shook a little as she picked up her phone, then punched his number in.
"Richard," she said when he answered. "It's Holly. I … I need to see you." Darn, but that didn't sound at all as a man would sound.
"Now," she added swiftly. "I need to see you now!"
Much better.
"My God, Holly, what's wrong? What's happened, my darling?"
Oh, dear. He shouldn't have called her his darling.
"I … I … "
"Yes?"
She tried again. "The thing is, Richard … "
"Yes?"
No use. She burst into tears.
Richard gripped the steering wheel of his BMW as he threaded his way through the city traffic, heading for Strathfield, and Holly.
"Damn and blast," he swore when he struck another set of red lights.
But it wasn't the driving delays that were distressing him the most, but his own disgusting self. What had possessed him to think he could play with a person's life as he had just played with Holly's?
There was no excuse. Buying the flower shop and having her chucked out, just so she would run to him, was the behaviour of an out-and-out bastard. When she'd broken down on the phone and sobbed out her confrontation with her stepmother, Richard had wanted to cut his own throat.
Holly's pain had been palpable, even over the phone.
Richard could not believe how insensitive he'd been to do something like that.
At the same time, he could not deny that there was a part of him that felt satisfaction. She had turned to him. Straight away. Without any hesitation.
No matter how cruel his strategy had been, it had worked.
For the rest of the drive to Strathfield, he tried convincing himself that the end justified the means. He would be good to her. Very good. He'd help her move, help her find a new job. He might even buy her another shop, if she'd let him. A better shop. Her life would be better, with him.
She'd stopped crying by the time he arrived, her face surprisingly composed as he hurried in through the door.
"I'm glad you came," she said, in a very odd voice for a girl who'd been beside herself less than half an hour earlier.
Richard slowed his step.
"I had planned to talk to you about this on the phone," she went on, again in that strangely cool voice. "But it didn't work out that way. We dreamers take a while to get our heads out of the clouds and into the real world."
Now she sounded bitter. And terribly hard!
"Anyway, I have a proposition for you."
Richard ground to a halt. "A proposition?"
"Yes. Do you still want to marry me?"
He blinked. Crikey!
"Of course," he said immediately.
"Buy me this shop and I'll marry you."
Buy her this shop. Hell, he already owned the damned thing.
"The contracts haven't been exchanged yet," she went on. "All you have to do is contact the real estate agency and gazump the bid. My stepmother will drop that other buyer like a hotcake. Contracts haven't been signed so it's still up for grabs."