Chapter 3 - A Man Everyone Recognized
At eleven forty-eight, Marin was cutting stems in the back room of Whitlock Floral Design when a black SUV stopped outside.
She saw it through the front window.
Then another vehicle pulled in behind it.
“Oh, absolutely not,” she muttered.
Her employee Paige looked up from a bucket of eucalyptus.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
A tall man in a charcoal coat exited the first vehicle and surveyed the sidewalk.
Paige’s eyes widened.
“Marin?”
“Still nothing.”
Then Adrian stepped out.
Paige dropped the eucalyptus.
“Nothing has very good shoulders.”
Marin pointed a pair of floral shears at her.
“Work.”
“I am working. I’m observing.”
Adrian entered alone.
The little brass bell above the door chimed.
For a moment, the shop seemed to shrink around him.
Whitlock Floral was narrow and bright, packed with greenery, glass vases, ribbons, baskets, ceramic pots, and the floral scent of roses, stock, and freesia.
Adrian belonged in glass towers and black sedans.
Not between buckets of tulips.
Yet instead of looking uncomfortable, he stopped and inhaled.
“Smells better than my office.”
Paige stared at him.
Marin sighed.
“Paige, this is Adrian.”
“I know.”
Adrian glanced at Marin.
She shrugged.
“Google.”
Paige wiped her hands on her apron.
“Paige Dalton.”
“Nice to meet you.”
He shook her hand.
Paige looked surprised that he possessed normal human manners.
Marin pointed toward the tiny office in the back.
“Coffee.”
Adrian followed.
“Your security stays outside.”
“Agreed.”
“Were they necessary?”
“Yes.”
The ease of the answer bothered her.
She closed the office door.
“Why?”
Adrian studied her for a second.
“General caution.”
“That sounds like another carefully edited answer.”
“It is.”
Marin folded her arms.
“If I’m going to pretend you’re my boyfriend, I need to know if somebody is going to burst into Clara’s dinner carrying a machine gun.”
“No.”
“That was extremely specific.”
“You were extremely specific.”
“Adrian.”
He leaned against the edge of her desk.
“No one is going to disrupt your sister’s dinner.”
“You promise?”
“Yes.”
Something about the certainty in his voice made her believe him.
She handed him a paper cup of coffee.
“No sugar.”
He glanced down.
“How did you know?”
“You look like a man who considers sugar inefficient.”
He laughed softly.
“I’m beginning to regret helping you.”
“You approached me.”
“Temporary lapse in judgment.”
Marin sat.
“Backstory.”
For the next forty minutes, they constructed a relationship that did not exist.
They had met four months earlier when Vale Consolidated hired her company for an event.
Their first date had been at a restaurant in the North End.
Second date: Boston Public Garden followed by coffee.
Third: dinner at her apartment.
“No,” Marin said.
“Why?”
“My mother will ask what I cooked.”
“You can cook?”
“Rude.”
“Can you?”
“Pasta.”
“So pasta.”
“She’ll ask what kind.”
Adrian took a sip.
“Pappardelle with braised short rib.”
Marin stared at him.
“You can cook?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
His eyebrows lifted.
“Because otherwise I’d starve.”
“You have a billionaire kitchen.”
“What is a billionaire kitchen?”
“Whatever your kitchen is.”
Adrian smiled.
She realized she liked making him smile.
That was unfortunate.
“What’s your favorite movie?” she asked.
“I don’t have one.”
“That sounds psychotic.”
“I don’t watch many movies.”
“You’re terrible at fake dating.”
“So far I’ve established a meeting story, three dates, and a meal. You’ve insulted my kitchen.”
“Good relationships require honesty.”
His expression shifted.
For one suspended moment, neither spoke.
Then Marin looked down at her notes.
“All right. Physical boundaries.”
Adrian’s voice became neutral.
“You decide.”
“Holding hands is fine.”
“Fine.”
“Arm around my waist.”
“Only if you initiate or signal.”
She looked up.
That answer earned him a point.
“Kissing?”
“No.”
The word left her faster than she expected.
Adrian nodded immediately.
“No kissing.”
She appreciated that he did not tease her.
“Bennett may try to provoke you.”
“I’m difficult to provoke.”
“You don’t know Bennett.”
“You don’t know me.”
“That is increasingly concerning.”
His phone vibrated.
He glanced at it but didn’t answer.
Marin noticed.
“You can take it.”
“You said no business calls.”
“The six hours haven’t started.”
“They have in spirit.”
She laughed.
His phone vibrated again.
He silenced it.
“Why are you really doing this?”
He looked toward the shop window.
“My answer hasn’t changed.”
“Curiosity.”
“Yes.”
“About normal life.”
He met her gaze.
“That phrase would offend most people.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I do.”
Marin lowered her voice.
“What is your life actually like?”
Before he could answer, Paige knocked.
Then she opened the door without waiting.
“Sorry. Customer specifically asked for Marin.”
A man stood near the front counter.
Late forties.
Expensive gray overcoat.
Silver hair.
He smiled when Marin approached.
“Ms. Whitlock?”
“Yes?”
“Beautiful shop.”
“Thank you. How can I help you?”
His gaze flicked toward Adrian behind her.
Something passed between the men.
Instant recognition.
Adrian’s posture changed.
Barely.
But enough.
The stranger smiled more broadly.
“I need flowers.”
“What kind?”
“For an apology.”
“That depends how badly you messed up.”
He chuckled.
“I like her, Vale.”
Marin went still.
Adrian stepped closer.
“What do you want, Richard?”
The man’s pleasant expression remained.
“So you do know each other,” Marin said.
Richard extended his hand toward her.
“Richard Corwin.”
She shook it cautiously.
“Marin.”
“I know.”
Adrian’s voice went cold.
“Richard.”
Corwin looked at Marin’s hand in his.
Then released it.
“A dozen white roses,” he said. “Delivered to Beacon Hill.”
“I can arrange that.”
“Excellent.”
He handed Marin a business card.
Adrian took it before she could.
Corwin laughed.
“Still possessive.”
“We’re leaving.”
Marin blinked.
“This is my shop.”
Adrian looked at her.
And she saw something she had not seen before.
Concern.
Real concern.
“Can we speak privately?”
“No.”
Corwin smiled as though enjoying every second.
“You didn’t tell her.”
Adrian’s jaw tightened.
Marin’s stomach dropped.
“Tell me what?”
Corwin buttoned his coat.
“That Boston is a small city, Ms. Whitlock. Smaller than people imagine.”
“Richard.”
The warning in Adrian’s voice changed the air.
Corwin finally looked at him.
“We’ll talk soon.”
Then to Marin:
“Enjoy dinner tonight.”
She froze.
“How do you know about dinner?”
Corwin walked out.
The bell chimed above the door.
Luca, the security man outside, immediately followed him with his eyes.
Marin turned.
“Who was that?”
Adrian said nothing.
“Adrian.”
“A competitor.”
“That man knew about tonight.”
“I’m aware.”
“How?”
“I don’t know yet.”
Her pulse quickened.
“You said my sister’s dinner was safe.”
“It is.”
“You promised.”
“And I meant it.”
“Then explain what just happened.”
Adrian looked through the window.
Corwin climbed into a waiting car.
Only when it disappeared did Adrian turn back.
“There are people interested in my movements.”
“Interested how?”
“Business rivals. Journalists. People who dislike my family.”
“And now they’re interested in me.”
His silence answered.
Marin stepped backward.
“This was supposed to be six stupid hours.”
“I know.”
“You knew before you came here?”
Another silence.
Her anger sharpened.
“Did you?”
“Yes.”
She stared at him.
“You should have told me.”
“Yes.”
“But you didn’t.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because I thought I could contain it.”
“You thought?”
Adrian’s composure cracked slightly.
“I was wrong.”
Marin shook her head.
“Dinner is off.”
He nodded.
That surprised her.
“You’re not going to argue?”
“No.”
“Good.”
“I’ll arrange security outside your sister’s venue.”
“No.”
“Marin—”
“I said no.”
“This isn’t about controlling you.”
“It feels exactly like controlling me.”
Adrian looked at her for several seconds.
Then he reached into his coat and placed another card on the counter.
This one had Luca’s number.
“If anything feels wrong, call.”
“I’m not taking your security.”
“Then don’t. Just keep the number.”
Marin wanted to refuse.
But Corwin’s smile remained in her head.
Enjoy dinner tonight.
She took the card.
Adrian walked toward the door.
His hand touched the handle.
“Wait.”
He turned.
Marin hated herself a little.
“Five-thirty.”
His expression didn’t change.
She swallowed.
“You already made me part of this by walking into my shop. If Corwin knows about dinner, canceling doesn’t magically make him forget I exist.”
“That’s true.”
“So you’re coming.”
“Marin—”
“But now there’s a new rule.”
“What?”
“No more edited answers.”
Adrian stared at her.
“No more lies by omission,” she said. “If I ask something, you tell me the truth.”
“That may be difficult.”
“Then don’t come.”
Silence stretched between them.
Finally, Adrian nodded.
“All right.”
“All right what?”
“No more lies by omission.”
Marin extended her hand.
“Six hours.”
He looked at it.
Then took it.
“Six hours.”
His hand was warm.
Firm.
And when their eyes met, something neither of them had planned moved quietly between them.
Then Paige’s voice came from behind a wall of roses.
“For the record, I vote you keep him.”
Marin yanked her hand away.
Adrian actually laughed.
But as he left the shop, his expression changed.
Luca stepped beside him.
“Corwin wanted to be seen.”
“I know.”
“He could’ve sent someone else.”
“I know.”
“That means he’s sending a message.”
Adrian looked back through the shop window.
Marin had already returned to work, bending over a vase of flowers as though she could force the afternoon back into normality.
“What message?” Luca asked.
Adrian’s jaw hardened.
“That he knows where she works.”
Luca looked at him.
“And what are you going to do?”
Adrian’s gaze stayed on Marin.
What had begun as curiosity no longer felt harmless.
For the first time, Adrian understood the true danger of walking into her life.
It was not what his enemies might do to Marin.
It was what Adrian might be willing to do if anyone frightened her.
“Make sure nothing touches her,” he said.
Luca nodded.
“Even if she never sees us.”
Because five hours from now, Adrian Vale would walk into the Whitlock family engagement dinner pretending to be Marin’s boyfriend.
But after Richard Corwin’s visit, one thing was no longer pretend.
Someone was watching them.
May you like
And Adrian intended to find out why.
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