compete.”
Something in the woman’s face
shifted.
“ That’s it, isn’t it?” Eve
blinked in surprise. “You think Grounds for Thought is competition,
but it’s not. My place is completely different than this. I’m sure
there’s plenty of business for both of us.”
“ And in the same vein, I’m
sure Ms. Rossi will pick the venue best suited to her event,” the
older woman said coolly, her grip tight on her necklace. “Now if
you’ll excuse me, I have to work.”
She shook her head. “I’m not
done—”
“ I am,” Margaret said. Then
she turned her back and strode away.
Eve stood there, mouth gaping. What
just happened?
One thing was certain: she may have
denied it, but Margaret was up to something. Eve would have bet her
café on it. But why? As far as she knew, she’d never done anything
to threaten the woman’s teahouse.
She watched Margaret stop at a table
to greet her customers. Her smile was aloof. Looking closely, there
was a bit of sadness there too.
Eve shook her head and as left. She
wasn’t going to feel sympathy for the woman. This was war, and the
final battle was Daniela Rossi’s event.
Chin high, she headed back to her
shop, each step clacking with purpose. This war she was going to
win.
Chapter Twelve
Her doorbell buzzed right at
seven-thirty.
Eve took a deep breath and tried to
set the day aside. She wore the bustier under her strapless dress,
and she knew she looked fabulous. She was going to have a great
time and no one—not even that Crumpet woman—was going to
contaminate her evening.
Grabbing her wrap, she went downstairs
to meet him.
Treat leaned against the building,
arms crossed. It surprised her that instead of his usual leather
jacket he wore a sports coat and a fancy shirt. His hair was pulled
back like usual, but he wore dressy shoes.
His eyes lit up when he saw her.
Without a word, he lifted her chin and kissed her.
Whatever tension she had faded the
moment his lips touched hers. The frustration and anger she’d been
carrying all day dissipated, and she melted against him.
He smiled. “You look
amazing.”
She ran a hand down her shimmery blue
dress. The bustier underneath was the real shining star. “I wasn’t
sure if it was too dressy.”
“ It’s perfect.” He made a
gimme motion with his fingers. “Let me see the shoes.”
She held her foot out so he could see
the silver strappy heels she wore. “Good?”
“ Better than good.” Leaning
in he kissed her softly on the lips and then took her arm. “Those
are dancing shoes.”
He guided her to a sleek Mercedes
sports coupe parked in front of the café. It was sexy and powerful
and surprising, just like him. She ran her hands over the leather,
wanting to do the same to him.
Crazy, the way he affected her. Ten
seconds in his presence and she’d forgotten the frustration of the
day, brought on by that horrible tea woman. “You’re like Prozac,”
she said when he got in the car.
He chuckled as he buckled up. “Is that
a good thing?”
“ Yes. A few minutes with
you and I’m in a happy place, the day forgotten.”
He pulled onto the street and then
took her hand in his. “Did you have a bad day?”
“ Not a great one.” She
frowned. “I wasn’t going to taint our date with it.”
“ You can always tell me if
something is bothering you.”
Usually she told Freya. She and Freya
had been friends forever—since they were kids—but Freya was,
understandably, busy with her family lately. Not that she wouldn’t
listen, but Eve was loath to bother her.
Treat squeezed her hand. “Tell
me.”
“ It’s one of the shop
owners on the street,” she said quickly. “It’s stupid really. She
denies it, but I think she has it out for me. She keeps doing
things to undermine my business.”
“ What sort of things?” he
asked with a slight frown.
“ Like she passed out flyers
for her shop in front of my store, and she’s vying to get the big
event I’ve been planning
Something in the woman’s face
shifted.
“ That’s it, isn’t it?” Eve
blinked in surprise. “You think Grounds for Thought is competition,
but it’s not. My place is completely different than this. I’m sure
there’s plenty of business for both of us.”
“ And in the same vein, I’m
sure Ms. Rossi will pick the venue best suited to her event,” the
older woman said coolly, her grip tight on her necklace. “Now if
you’ll excuse me, I have to work.”
She shook her head. “I’m not
done—”
“ I am,” Margaret said. Then
she turned her back and strode away.
Eve stood there, mouth gaping. What
just happened?
One thing was certain: she may have
denied it, but Margaret was up to something. Eve would have bet her
café on it. But why? As far as she knew, she’d never done anything
to threaten the woman’s teahouse.
She watched Margaret stop at a table
to greet her customers. Her smile was aloof. Looking closely, there
was a bit of sadness there too.
Eve shook her head and as left. She
wasn’t going to feel sympathy for the woman. This was war, and the
final battle was Daniela Rossi’s event.
Chin high, she headed back to her
shop, each step clacking with purpose. This war she was going to
win.
Chapter Twelve
Her doorbell buzzed right at
seven-thirty.
Eve took a deep breath and tried to
set the day aside. She wore the bustier under her strapless dress,
and she knew she looked fabulous. She was going to have a great
time and no one—not even that Crumpet woman—was going to
contaminate her evening.
Grabbing her wrap, she went downstairs
to meet him.
Treat leaned against the building,
arms crossed. It surprised her that instead of his usual leather
jacket he wore a sports coat and a fancy shirt. His hair was pulled
back like usual, but he wore dressy shoes.
His eyes lit up when he saw her.
Without a word, he lifted her chin and kissed her.
Whatever tension she had faded the
moment his lips touched hers. The frustration and anger she’d been
carrying all day dissipated, and she melted against him.
He smiled. “You look
amazing.”
She ran a hand down her shimmery blue
dress. The bustier underneath was the real shining star. “I wasn’t
sure if it was too dressy.”
“ It’s perfect.” He made a
gimme motion with his fingers. “Let me see the shoes.”
She held her foot out so he could see
the silver strappy heels she wore. “Good?”
“ Better than good.” Leaning
in he kissed her softly on the lips and then took her arm. “Those
are dancing shoes.”
He guided her to a sleek Mercedes
sports coupe parked in front of the café. It was sexy and powerful
and surprising, just like him. She ran her hands over the leather,
wanting to do the same to him.
Crazy, the way he affected her. Ten
seconds in his presence and she’d forgotten the frustration of the
day, brought on by that horrible tea woman. “You’re like Prozac,”
she said when he got in the car.
He chuckled as he buckled up. “Is that
a good thing?”
“ Yes. A few minutes with
you and I’m in a happy place, the day forgotten.”
He pulled onto the street and then
took her hand in his. “Did you have a bad day?”
“ Not a great one.” She
frowned. “I wasn’t going to taint our date with it.”
“ You can always tell me if
something is bothering you.”
Usually she told Freya. She and Freya
had been friends forever—since they were kids—but Freya was,
understandably, busy with her family lately. Not that she wouldn’t
listen, but Eve was loath to bother her.
Treat squeezed her hand. “Tell
me.”
“ It’s one of the shop
owners on the street,” she said quickly. “It’s stupid really. She
denies it, but I think she has it out for me. She keeps doing
things to undermine my business.”
“ What sort of things?” he
asked with a slight frown.
“ Like she passed out flyers
for her shop in front of my store, and she’s vying to get the big
event I’ve been planning
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