Bought: One Bride(4)

"Yes, well, I'm a romantic fool."

"I'm a romantic fool as well."

Sara pulled a face. "Yeah. Most of us girls are. Oh well, you'd better go get that Herald before they're all gone."

Holly bought the last paper in the newsagent's and hurried back to study  the classifieds between customers, but the news was disappointing.  There weren't very many jobs for florists advertised that weekend. And  only two in the city. As for sharing a flat …

The reality of moving in with strangers after living on her own for two  years made Holly shudder. Yet she couldn't afford to rent somewhere  decent by herself, not unless her salary was pretty good. She certainly  couldn't afford to buy a place. She had some savings but not much. A  couple of thousand. Having Dave as a boyfriend had not been cheap. She'd  ended up paying for most things, his excuse being he was saving up for  their future together.

Like, how gullible could a girl get?

Facing her shortcomings was not a pleasant experience. But by the time  Sara left to go home at four o'clock and Holly began closing up the  shop, she'd come to terms with her own pathetic performance as a  supposedly adult woman. She had no one to blame but herself if her life  was a shambles. She'd taken the line of least resistance and allowed  people to walk all over her.

But no more. Come Monday morning she would get in contact with one of  the many services who did professional résumés. She'd never had to apply  for a job before but she knew you had to present yourself well. Then  she would apply for those two jobs in the city. Sara was right. The city  was the way to go.

But she wasn't going to fall into the trap of accepting any job that  paid poorly. She would need a good salary if she wanted to keep living  by herself.

She didn't have to rush. Businesses like A Flower A Day did not sell  overnight. She probably had a couple of months at least to make her  plans and execute them.                       
       
           



       

Meanwhile, she wasn't going to breathe a word to Connie. And she would stash away every cent she could.

The sight of a huge bunch of red roses sitting in a bucket in the corner  brought Holly up with a jolt. It was a phone order she had taken  yesterday afternoon. Not one of her usual clients. A man, who'd promised  to pick them up by noon today.

With a sigh, she checked her records, found his name and number, and rang.

An answering machine. Botheration. She hated answering machines.

After leaving a message saying she'd cancelled the order, Holly hung up with a sigh.

What a waste. Such lovely red roses. Expensive, too. He hadn't wanted  buds, but open flowers. They wouldn't last more than a few days.  Impossible to sell them to anyone else.

And then an idea came to her.

Mrs Crawford. She absolutely loved roses, and she wasn't due to leave on  her overseas jaunt till the end of next week. Holly could call them a  going-away gift. Plus a thank you for all the times she'd dropped into  the shop for a chat and a cuppa.

Nice woman, Mrs Crawford.

If Holly's thoughts drifted momentarily to Richard Crawford, she didn't  allow them to linger. Yet there was a time when she'd thought about Mrs  Crawford's precious only son quite a bit. She'd even woven wild  fantasies around him, about their meeting one day and his being bowled  over by her.

Sara was right. Most women were romantic fools!

Flicking her address book over to the Cs, she checked Mrs Crawford's number and rang to make sure she'd be there.

Engaged.

Oh, well, at least she was home.

Holly bent to scoop the roses out of the bucket, wrapped them in some  silver paper and tied them with a red bow the same colour as the blooms.  She would walk up to Mrs Crawford's house and give them to her  personally. It wasn't far and the day was still pleasantly warm. The sun  didn't set till late and it was only four-fifteen.

When Holly set out, it never occurred to her that Richard Crawford might  be at his mother's house, even if it was the weekend. Mrs Crawford had  told her just the other day that she rarely saw her son any more.  Apparently, he'd been promoted to CEO at his bank-the youngest ever!-and  was more of a workaholic than ever.

Holly took her time, strolling rather than striding out, enjoying the  fresh air and mentally running through her list of things to do in the  coming weeks.

Number one. Find a job, preferably in the city.

Number two. Find a flat, preferably near the city.

Number three. Find herself a nice bloke. Preferably one who wore a suit and worked in the city.

Holly pulled a face, then struck number three off her list. That could definitely wait a while.

Regardless of how much of a two-timing rat Dave had turned out to be,  he'd still been her boyfriend for over a year and she'd thought she  loved him. Had thought he loved her as well. He'd said he did often  enough.

Dave's dumping her for Katie had really hurt. Holly's self-esteem was  still seriously bruised and she simply wasn't ready to launch herself  back into the dating scene.

No, she would concentrate on the two things she could manage. A new job and a new place to live.

Finding a new boyfriend was not on her agenda, not for quite some time.





CHAPTER TWO





"I'M GOING now."

Richard looked up from his laptop, taking a few moments to focus on his mother, who was standing in the study doorway.

"You're looking very smart," he said.

"Thank you," she returned, her hand lifting to lightly touch her exquisitely groomed blonde hair. "Nice of you to notice."

Richard had noticed more than her new hair. She was a totally different  woman today, all due to Melvin's arrival in her life, no doubt.

"I'm sorry I'm going out, Richard. But you could have warned me you were  dropping by. I haven't seen hide nor hair of you for weeks."

"I've been exceptionally busy," he said, and let her think he meant at the bank.

In reality, he'd been busy, wining and dining his five final selections  from Wives Wanted. So far he'd taken out four of them. The first three,  on successive Saturday nights. Number four, however, hadn't been able to  make it tonight, so he'd taken her out last night.

The evening had proved as disappointing as the three previous dinner dates.

Richard had been going to go into work today-he often worked on a  Saturday-but he'd decided at the last moment, and in a spirit of total  exasperation, to come and tell his mother about his quest for a new wife  via Wives Wanted. He hadn't wanted to discuss his lack of success so  far with Reece, and certainly not with Mike, who knew nothing of his  wife-finding endeavours. Richard had even brought his laptop with him to  show his mother the Wives Wanted database.                       
       
           



       

But when he'd arrived she'd been so excited about her own date with Melvin that Richard had abandoned that idea.

And now he was glad he had. Because she would never understand why he  wanted a marriage of convenience. Not unless he told her the truth about  Joanna. And he refused to bare his soul like that.

"I won't be back till late," she said. "We're going to the theatre after  dinner. But there's pizza in the freezer. And a nice bottle of wine in  the door of the fridge."

"Watch it, Mum. You're in danger of becoming a party girl."

Her face visibly stiffened. "And what if I am?" she snapped. "I think it's about time, don't you?"

Richard was startled by her reaction. Did she think he was criticising her?

Possibly. His father had been a critical bastard. He didn't know how his  mother had stood being married to him. It had been bad enough being his  son. Richard had learned to survive by excelling in all his endeavours.  Difficult for a father to find fault when his son came first at  everything.

After his father had died several years back, Richard had expected his  mother to marry again. She'd only been in her late fifties at the time.  And she was a good-looking woman. Reginald Crawford wouldn't have  married any other kind.

But she hadn't married again. She'd lived a very quiet life, playing  bowls once a week on ladies day, and bridge on a Tuesday night. Mostly,  she stayed at home where she looked after her garden, watched TV and  read. Then suddenly, at sixty-five, the travel bug had hit.

Not wanting to explore the world alone, she'd placed an ad on the  community bulletin board at the local library for a travelling  companion. Melvin had applied a fortnight ago and was found to be very  agreeable. A retired surgeon, he was a widower as well. Not a man to let  grass grow under his feet, Melvin had already organised their world  trip to start this coming Friday.

"I wasn't being critical, Mum," Richard said carefully. "I think what you're doing is fabulous."

"You mean that, Richard? You don't think I'm being foolish?"