“He?” one of the other judges said, scratching his head.
“This is rather unorthodox,” another muttered. “Will we have to recalculate the scores?”
“Of course not, Hiram,” Elise said. “The next runner up was—”
“Sunshine Flowers?” Julie offered helpfully.
Elise didn’t miss a beat. “Yes, it was, the Sunshine Flowers display shows marvellous talent for one so young and untried. We all thought so, didn’t we?”
There was a murmur of consent. Julie thanked them quietly and returned to Sophie.
“Well?” her friend asked.
“It’s all worked out.”
“You’re amazing. Insane, but amazing.”
The judges conferred again and then one of them went to the podium that was set up in front of the room. Everyone hushed as he tapped the microphone.
“Thank you all for coming today and being part of the twelfth annual San Francisco Flower Competition. This year, we’ve had an unprecedented number of excellent entries.” He paused as people applauded politely, lifting the trophy off its pedestal. “Unfortunately, there can only be one winner. It gives me great pleasure to announce this year’s recipient of the golden Gerbera—”
“Golden Gerbera?” Sophie covered her mouth to stifle her laugh, but her eyes gave her away.
“
Shh.
” Julie elbowed her ribs. “It’s coveted.”
“—so without further ado”—the judge made a sweeping gesture—”Amy Bendel of Sunshine Flowers!”
Shocked applause broke out. Julie looked at the young woman, smiling at the stunned look on Amy’s face as she practically skipped up to receive her prize. Yes, she’d made the right decision.
Next to her, Sophie gasped. “Oh no, she isn’t.”
Julie became aware of the murmur traveling through the room. She looked where everyone seemed to be focused, and noticed Hyacinth—or Bertha—sauntering up to the podium.
There was stunned silence as Bertha reached for the trophy, her phony smile in full force.
“Dr. Gardner,” the judge whispered, not aware the microphone was still amplifying him. He tugged at the trophy as she pulled. “You didn’t win this year.”
“What?” Hyacinth blinked. Then she looked around the room, her cheeks staining beet red as everyone gawked at her. Then she saw Amy, standing on the other side of the podium. Horror widened her eyes, and she quickly stammered, “I know I didn’t win. I thought as reigning champion I’d hand the trophy to Amy. Here you go, Amy.”
“Nice save,” Sophie muttered as everyone clapped in disjointed disbelief. They watched Amy go up to the podium and pry the trophy out of Hyacinth’s gripping claws.
As the new winner gave a stammering acceptance speech, Elise wound her way through the crowd to join them. She put her arm around Julie’s waist, on the opposite side from Sophie, and whispered in her ear, “You’re the clear winner, darling, in so many ways.”
She had to swallow a couple times to dislodge the lump in her throat. “I hope Scott thinks that.”
“He does. Just remember that he thought that before the rest of us did.”
“Except me,” Sophie chimed in.
Julie grinned. Then she laughed, because it was so much better than curling up in a bundle of nerves.
Chapter Twenty-four
Megan Steiner perched on the stool and crossed her arms. “Okay, I’m ready to be turned on.”
Bull rubbed his hands together. He’d been looking forward to this morning for the past twenty-four hours, ever since Megan called and said she wanted to arrange a smoothie tasting for her and a potential investor. “You want to get it on without the other dude? Should we wait?”
“I like threesomes as much as the next girl, but if I have some advanced product knowledge I can move the conversation forward in a mutually beneficial way.” She pushed one of the shot glasses he’d lined up. “So hit me, baby.”
He poured three different shots: what he considered his basic smoothie, and two speciality juice blends. He watched like a hawk as Megan tasted each one, making notes.
He liked Megan. He could tell she was sharp from the first moment he met her, not to mention that she asked the right questions. He had a good feeling about their synergy, and for the first time in days he felt hopeful about at least one thing in his life. It almost made him not care that the personal aspects were in the shitter.
Almost, and only when he’d had enough whiskey.
The doorbell rang.
“About time,” Megan muttered as she wrote down some notes.
“I’ll let him in.” Bull hopped off the barstool and straightened his shirt as he walked to the front door. He didn’t bother to hold back his happy grin as he opened the door.
But it faded fast when he saw that, standing on his stoop, in addition to Megan’s colleague Smelly James, there was Josephine Belle Williams.
Bull wished that he could have been impervious to her charms, but even standing there in her coat, with her hair up and that vaguely unapproving schoolteacher expression he wanted her. Badly.
Smelly smiled and grabbed Bull’s hand, pumping it vigorously. “Smelly James. And you’re, of course, Bull Torres. I saw you in Vegas a couple years ago. I put down ten thousand on your fight, and you made me a happy man that night.”
Josephine looked back and forth between them, the space between her eyebrows scrunched, which was
not
a good sign.
Smelly glanced at her and then leaned toward Bull, whispering in a way that the entire neighborhood heard him. “Does she want you, too? Because I am
very
interested. Megan spoke highly of you.”
“Megan?” Josephine said, her brow lifting.
He grinned. His woman was here, and she was jealous. Both good signs, right? He laughed out loud and waved both of them in. “Come in and we’ll get this sorted out.”
As he closed the door, Megan yelled from the kitchen, “You’re never going to get lucky if you’re always late, Smelly James. I’ve already had a taste and I can tell you what you’re missing out on.”
“Maybe I shouldn’t be here,” Josephine said, stopping in the middle of the hall.
“Yes, you should,” Bull said as Smelly said, “No, because Bull is mine.”
Before she could think he was part of some freaky three-way, he said, “Smelly and another investor are here to check out my smoothies. They might invest.”
“Knowing what I do of you and your endeavors, I’d say it’s highly likely,” Smelly said. He pointed down the hall. “The kitchen is this way?”
“Yeah. Megan’s already there.” He waited until Smelly was out of hearing before turning to Josephine. “How did you know where I live?”
“Nicole gave me your address.”
“So it’s okay for her to give my address to you, but I’m not safe?” He rolled his eyes. “Thank goodness double-standards are dead.”
“It’s not Nicole’s fault.” Josephine shifted the weight from one leg to the other. “This is obviously not a good time, so maybe I should—”
“
No.
” He grabbed her hands to keep her from going anywhere. “This shouldn’t take long. Why don’t you sit in, and then we can talk? I still don’t understand why you came.”
“I really don’t either.” She pulled her coat collar closer to her neck.
“But you’re here.”
She looked him in the eyes. “Yes.”
He exhaled and then nodded. “Good. Okay.”
She put her hand on his arm. “You probably shouldn’t keep them waiting.”
“No.” He took her hand—he couldn’t help himself—and they joined Megan and Smelly in the kitchen.
Megan looked up, curious, as they walked in. “Who’s this?” she asked with all the forthrightness he gave her credit for.
“Josephine, Megan Steiner. Megan’s firm backs Nicole’s lingerie line.” He guided his woman to the stool where he’d been sitting and got out three more shot glasses for her from the cabinet. “Megan and Smelly are here to test my smoothies and maybe invest in my idea.”
“Maybe?” Megan snorted, pushing a shot glass across the counter. “I’m definitely in, and if Smelly isn’t he’s a fool. Did you see the business plan, Smells?”
The man nodded as he watched Bull fill the glasses. “It’s kind of brilliant. Aggressive marketing plan, too. I like it. I wouldn’t expect anything less from a man like Bull Torres.”
“This is my basic smoothie.” Bull filled their glasses. He should have been watching the reactions from the investors, but his gaze was glued to Josephine Belle’s, to see how she liked it.
She blinked in surprise, and then took another delicate sip.
Yes.
He grinned and returned his attention to the other two. “You know, Smelly, if we go into business together, we’ll be Smelly and Kelly.”
The man laughed like it was the funniest thing ever. “One day I’ll tell you how I got my nickname. It’s a doozy of a story.”
Megan rolled her eyes. “Try the other smoothies, Smells.”
For the next hour, they discussed branding, distribution, and roll-out strategies. Smelly was a little bit unfocused, but Megan had warned him about that. She’d also told him not to worry, that Smelly kept out of the day-to-day business, only wanting his investment to be paid off in the end.
Bull hadn’t been wrong about Megan—she was as sharp as he’d taken her for. He liked her raucous way of talking, too.
Josephine Belle sat there the whole time, listening intently without interfering except to ask for more of one of his juices. His heart swelled when she said she liked it. He was such a sap.
Megan declared that she had places to be and escorted Smelly out of the house with her, leaving Bull and Josephine alone in the kitchen with a lot of dirty shot glasses.
Josephine stood up. “I’ll help you clean up.”
“No way, babe.” He turned her around and trapped her against the counter. He didn’t touch her, even though it was killing him. The scent of her tickled his nose and it was all he could do not to bury his nose in her neck. “I’ve behaved myself long enough. Now you have to come clean about why you’re here.”
She swallowed audibly, staring at the open collar of his shirt before her eyes travelled up, over his tattoo, and then to meet his. “Maybe you were right.”
“Words I love to hear, but you’re going to have to do better than that.”
She glared at him. “I was scared, alright? I’ve been burned in the past, and I guessed if I was attracted to you, you were just as bad as the other guys. You have tattoo on your face, for heaven’s sake.”
He grinned. “You’re attracted to me?”
“
That’s
what you’re going to take away from all I’ve said?”
“It’s the only thing that came as a surprise to me.” He chanced touching her, just a brush of his finger on her hand. But part of him had doubts, so he said, “So you came here and saw my big house, and my business associates, and you thought I wasn’t so bad.”
She glared at him. “Don’t do that. I came here because I missed your harassment. I’d already decided that I wanted you, if you’d have me. I know I behaved badly.”
“Actually, you were a total bitch.”
“Fine.” She rolled her eyes.
“Just calling a spade a spade.” He sobered. “You can’t deny that you didn’t believe I was worthy without seeing all this stuff.”
“Yes, I can, and I can prove it.” She pushed him back and unbuttoned her coat.
He mouth fell open as he saw flashes of red. “You didn’t—”
“I did.” She pushed the coat off her shoulders and set it on the counter.
He staggered backwards, blown away by the sight of his corset on her body.
It was even better than he’d imagined, and he had a
really
good imagination. It propped her up like she was served especially for him, taunting him with her curves. It hugged her hips, creating a perfect frame for the tiny panties that covered her feminine delights. To top it off, she wore black thigh highs and come-to-me-poppa heels that almost made him swallow his tongue.
How hadn’t he noticed? He shook his head.
“Well?” she asked.
He put a hand over his heart. “I think it’s stopped.”
Her beautiful eyes narrowed, and she sauntered toward him in a way that made him break out in a sweat. “Do you need mouth-to-mouth?”
He managed to nod.
“I can do that.” She slid her arms around his neck. “Forever, if you’ll let me.”
“I’d be crazy not to,” he murmured as he pulled her closer.
“I like your kind of crazy,” she said, and then she kissed him.
Chapter Twenty-five
Julie winced as the woman with the comb yanked her hair for the millionth time. “Are hairdressers always so sadistic?”
“I’m a stylist, honey.” As if to punish her, the woman pulled her hair again.
“Ouch.” Julie glared at her. The upside to being made up in a private room was that there’d be no witnesses if she murdered her torturer.
Her second torturer, actually, because the makeup artist had already visited her. She frowned at herself in the mirror, trying to find fault with the woman’s work, but, truthfully, she was entranced by the magic the woman had worked on her. Elise had assured her that she wouldn’t look like a clown. She didn’t. Her makeup was subtle and barely there, but somehow enhancing.
Hopefully Scott would think so, too.
She reached for the glass of champagne someone had brought her, wincing when her hair pulled and then again when she remembered the glass was long empty. Damn it.
Alexis walked into the room, radiant with joy and happiness. “How are you doing?”
“I’m pretty sure I need to check on the orchids in the main parlor to make sure they’re draping properly.”
“The flowers look great. Mother told me.” Alexis patted her shoulder. “Don’t worry. This is going to work out.”
“Easy for you to say.” Julie pouted. “You’re the bride. Shouldn’t you be close to puking with nerves? You look way calmer than I feel.”
“That’s because my fate is signed, sealed, and delivered. Rob is mine, and I’m already deliriously happy. Today is just a formality.” She grinned. “You, on the other hand, don’t have anything settled, which is why you’re so jittery and unhappy.”
“Thanks,” Julie said drily, giving the hair lady a dirty look as she twisted her hair tight.
Alexis leaned in. “You’re going to be happy, Julie. I’m positive.”