Sleeping with Anemone

Generous:

Kind:

Understanding:

Supportive:

Great with children:

Strong:

Soulful:

Considerate:

Devoted:

Calm:

Levelheaded:

Sensitive:

Helpful:

Earns a good living:

CHAPTER FIVE

Even though I had to park my Corvette in the city parking garage and tip the attendant extra to make sure no one touched my car, I was really glad to see Monday come, because Sunday was a serious bummer. After church, I was swarmed by concerned family and friends who’d seen the cable news report about the brick and had all kinds of warnings for me; after lunch, Marco and I saw a boring war movie-his choice, since I picked last time-and after supper, I had to do laundry that had piled up all week, while he watched a football game.

All of which made Monday a real treat, especially since the sun was out, the snow had melted, and Valentine’s Day was rapidly approaching, which meant an increase in profits for my struggling flower shop. Another bonus: The window repairman arrived promptly at eight thirty a.m., so that when Grace opened the shop at nine, a brand-new beveled glass pane greeted the customers. And there were lots of them, some making straight for the parlor to get their morning java, some browsing the arrangements and gift items on display, and others placing orders for the holiday.

I saw many of our regular customers and met new ones. Some who I thought were new seemed to know me, so I pretended to remember them when they stopped to say how terrible it was that a person couldn’t feel safe on her own town square. One woman in particular looked familiar-how do you forget hair that big?-and I nearly said something chatty to her, but then someone asked me a question about flowers, and I lost track of her.

Although we barely had a moment to breathe, it was a great morning, profit-wise. Amazing what the threat of a store burning to the ground could do to motivate shoppers.

Suddenly it was almost two o’clock and Marco was there to escort me to Nils Raand’s office.

“We had the most amazing day,” I told Marco as we pulled into the huge parking lot in front of the Uniworld Distribution Center. “I am so psyched. Mark my words. Before we leave Raand’s office, I’ll have a signed agreement in my hand.”

“I think you’re being a little naive, Sunshine. You’re talking about a huge conglomerate here. Nothing happens swiftly in that environment.”

We dodged a semitrailer truck leaving one of the dozen loading docks that ran across the front of the warehouse, then walked up to a small, steel door on the end of the building nearest to us. Marco held it open and I stepped inside, gazing around in wonder at the rows of two-story-high shelving stocked with boxes of goods. Small cherry pickers were at work loading and unloading more boxes, their beeps echoing through the enormous space.

Marco pointed toward the ceiling, where we could see an office with a big window that overlooked the operation. We headed toward a staircase that would take us to it, but before we were halfway up, a woman in a neat navy suit appeared at the top. She ushered us into a reception area and offered us a selection of beverages. Marco took a glass of water but I declined. I didn’t want to have to balance anything on my knee, especially if things got heated. I might end up dousing Raand with it.

When we stepped inside Raand’s office, he came around his desk, his gaze flickering over Marco, coolly assessing him, before lighting on me and turning downright icy. “Miss Knight.”

“Mr. Raand, this is Marco Salvare, my, er”-what should I call him? A boyfriend? It sounded so twelfth grade-“partner.”

Raand shook Marco’s hand, each man taking the other’s measure, while I glanced around. His office appeared to have come straight from an IKEA showroom-light wood, simple lines, and no personal touches at all. Not one photo, award, coffee mug, or pencil cup. The top of his desk, a long, straight-legged table, was bare, save for an intercom/telephone and a silver laptop. The entire room seemed sterile and off-putting, just like Nils Raand.

“Please. Sit.” Raand indicated a tan leather sofa against the wall. I put my purse on the floor by my feet, as Marco settled beside me. Raand looked comfortably relaxed in an adjacent brown chair, his hands resting on the chair arms.

“So. What can I do for you?”

“Give me an assurance that no hormones will be used on your cows,” I stated.

“Cows must have the lactation hormone in order to produce milk,” he replied.

“Their own natural hormones, not a synthetic version cooked up in a laboratory,” I countered. “I’m sure you’ve seen studies on the effects of syn-”

“Studies, Miss Knight,” he cut in sharply, “can be manipulated.”

“Your studies, perhaps,” I shot back, as his expression stiffened. “You saw the photos of those poor cows. Did they look natural to you? How would you like it if your mother-”

Marco put his hand on my arm to stop me. “Look, Mr. Raand, you know what Uniworld is doing isn’t right. And you know these protests aren’t going to go away, not here in New Chapel or anywhere else in the country, especially with PAR working so hard to get the word out. All this negative publicity can’t be good for Uniworld’s bottom line. So go back to whoever makes decisions on the health and safety of your product and tell them it’s time to change their policy. Then we’ll get the media in to take photos of you signing an agreement to stop using synthetic hormones, the protests will go away, and everyone will be satisfied.”

Raand tapped his fingers on the arm of his chair, studying Marco as though he were plotting how to dissect him. “Interesting idea.” He got up from his chair. “You will hear from me.” Then, giving us a slight nod, he strode out of the office.

Wait. What just happened?

“That was easy,” Marco said, standing.

“Are you serious? We didn’t accomplish squat.”

“He got the message, Abby. You’ll see.”

I rolled my eyes. “You thought I was naive.”

“Give me a little credit, Sunshine. I excelled in hostage negotiations. I know how to reason with difficult people. It’s all about hitting them where they’re vulnerable, and for a big company, that means their bottom line. Profits. Keeping shareholders happy. You watch. Within the week, things will start happening.”

I went to the doorway and glanced out into the hall, but Raand was nowhere to be seen. Instantly, his secretary rose from her desk. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

“Yes. Get Mr. Raand back here for a real discussion.”

“Mr. Raand is in a meeting.”

“You mean he was in a meeting. He walked out before it was over.”

“We’ll schedule this for another time,” Marco said to me, trying to lead me out

I wasn’t about to let Raand control the situation. I sat on a chair in the waiting area. “I’m not leaving until he comes back.”

We were escorted out by the same beefy security guards who’d eaten Mom’s candy. Marco said it was my