Now for Plan B.
Oh, she’d seen them all right. Dwayne caught her quick sidewise glance as she drove past. Thoroughly disgusted with herself, Marla drove on home, parked, dragged her waste barrel to the front porch, and dumped all the dead and dying flowers. What was she, sixteen? Do I intend to forgive him or not?
She wanted to forgive him. It was taking more and more energy to hang on to her insult and anger. What was the point? She dragged the barrel to the side of the house, muttering all the way. “He’s sorry. What more do I expect him to do? He’s a man. Men are clueless about patching up a relationship. So, does that mean it’s up to me?” She kicked the barrel for good measure. “Dang it!”
The next day at her office Marla froze when she saw Dwayne walk in the door carrying another bouquet of roses. She heard him say, “Delivery for Ms. Danaher,” and then stroll right past the receptionist, straight for her.
He set the vase on her desk and leaned forward. “I’m coming to your house later, Danaher.”
“No!”
“Yes! I’m prepared to sit on your doorstep until you open the door.”
“What are you up to?”
“Plan B.”
Marla wracked her brain. “I’m…uh…I’m not going to be home tonight. I…um…have a date.”
“No problem. I’ll wait until you get home.” He turned on his heel, proceeded across the office and out the door.
Her mouth hung open. She snapped it shut and stared at the top of her desk, hoping nobody had noticed. Silly her.
“Oh, my, gawd! Who was the big hunk of eye candy? You’ve been keeping him all for yourself? Shame on you, Marla Danaher.” The bouncy receptionist hovered over her desk, fluttering like a flag in a stiff breeze. “My, gawd! I can’t breathe. Call 911.”
“For the love of goats, Jessie, stuff it.”
“Who is he? Does he live around here? I’ve never seen him in town. His shiny black pickup looked familiar, but I couldn’t read what it said. He doesn’t work for the florist—that I do know. Give. Give.” She picked up a file folder and fanned herself.
Marla snatched it back. “For somebody who can’t breathe, you seem able to talk endlessly.” She snapped a shoo gesture with her wrist. “Go away. I have work to do.”
“Not till you tell me who he is. Spit it out. I’m not moving.”
Marla rolled her eyes. “Okay, okay, his name is Dwayne Dempsey. He owns Big D Construction. I hired him to do the renovation on my condo project. Happy now?”
Jessie’s face morphed in to a sly, slit-eyed smile. “And why is he bringing you flowers, huh?”
“Because the project was successful?”
“There are different ways to define success. Whatever ‘success’ you had on the project must have been spectacular. He sent those other flowers here too, didn’t he?”
Marla grabbed her purse. “I give up.” She shoved her desk chair in and stormed past her co-worker, spun around, went back and snatched the flowers, then flounced to the door. “I’ll be back when I get back.”
She felt her face go hot when laughter and applause followed her out the door.
At seven-thirty, her doorbell rang. She’d been pacing for an hour and was surprised there was any hair left on her head the way she’d been tugging and twisting it. Okay, this was it. Now’s your chance to have it out with the big lout, Marla. Take a breath. Tell him exactly what you think of his unforgivable behavior. Let him have the full force of your anger and frustration. Teeth gritting hard enough to make her jaw ache, she tromped to the door and flung it open. “What!”
Edwin Plimpton gasped and stumbled back. “I…”
Mouth slack, Marla grabbed her throat. “Edwin, what are you doing here?” Color drained from his face. He looked as if she’d induced a heart attack. “Edwin?”
He waved a hand. “Let me get my breath. You startled me.” He sucked in some air and let it whoosh out.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you like that. Are you all right? You don’t look so good. Maybe you’d better sit down.” Great, she’d almost killed Edwin. The poor guy’s complexion went from death white to mottled purple. She extended a tentative hand. “Breathe, please, Edwin. You’re scaring me.”
He shook his head and waved his hands. “I’m fine, good. Let me catch my breath. I thought we could talk, Marla.”
“No, I, um, Edwin I’m…” Her eyes scanned the street for signs of Dwayne’s truck. “Tonight isn’t a good time for me.”
“Are you expecting someone?” The pathetic look on his face nearly evoked affection for him.
Without either of them having noticed his arrival, Dwayne strode to the porch. “She’s expecting me, aren’t you, honey?” He glared at Edwin, who actually shrank under Dwayne’s steely gaze. That had to be his Gunnery Sergeant glare. “You have business with my woman, Plimpton?”
Edwin’s mouth opened, his lips moved, but no words came out.
Dwayne slammed his hands on Edwin’s bony shoulders. “No? Good. Then I suggest you beat it.”
Marla sputtered, “What do you—?” She cleared her throat. “Edwin, I’m sorry, this man, he…” She wished she kept a baseball bat by her front door because Dwayne could use a couple of good whacks about now.
By way of answering, Edwin raised his hands, took a step back then another, and stepped off the porch. He scurried down her walk like a mouse outrunning a snake. She whirled on Dwayne.
“You! You!” She felt her eyes grow big and hair prickle on the top of her head. About to explode, she stamped her foot, clenched her fists. Dwayne grinned. “Damn you, Dempsey!”
He didn’t answer. Just stood there grinning.
She crossed her arms, daring him to move. “This is your Plan B? Threatening my friends? Showing up on my doorstep uninvited? You are the most arrogant, the most infuriating, obnoxious, maddening…stop grinning! What is there to grin about?”
The grin grew so wide it
