Send Me No Flowers
Letter to Reader
Title Page
A few thoughts about Valentine’s Day...
Books by Kristin Gabriel
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Copyright
Rachel Grant wishes she’d sent such a card to Mayor Drew Lavery.
She tried to resist his sexy charms, but the guy is pretty irresistible. Then she learned that the Chamber of Commerce pressured Drew into dating her. She didn’t know what was worse: not knowing whether he was wooing her for love or money, or liking it!
Dear Reader,
Valentine’s brings more wonderful and funny books from LOVE & LAUGHTER!
Courting Cupid, by popular Harlequin American Romance author Charlotte Maclay, wonders what happens when Cupid notches her bow, takes careful aim...and misses, bringing together the most unlikely couple! You’ll laugh out loud at the antics of the gang on the corporate retreat and sigh as Eloise and Blake fall in love.
Then, in Send Me No Flowers, Kristin Gabriel takes her revenge for all of us who sometimes get a little fed up with all the hoopla surrounding Valentine’s Day. This fast-paced comedy pits a sexy mayor against a determined therapist. While both Drew and Rachel have good arguments for opposing or supporting the Valentine’s Day festival, it is their hearts that win the battle. I hope you enjoy this story as much as I did.
Have a happy Valentine’s Day!
Malle Vallik
Associate Senior Editor
SEND ME NO FLOWERS
Kristin Gabriel
TORONTO • NEW YORK • LONDON
AMSTERDAM • PARIS • SYDNEY • HAMBURG
STOCKHOLM • ATHENS • TOKYO • MILAN • MADRID
PRAGUE • WARSAW • BUDAPEST • AUCKLAND
A few thoughts about Valentine’s Day...
My sweetheart doesn’t send me flowers on Valentine’s Day. Or buy me candy. Or shower me in expensive jewelry. Even though I give him plenty of little helpful hints. Like cutting out pictures from jewelry catalogs and placing them on his pillow.
What’s a girl have to do to get a little attention on this special day? When my heroine in Send Me No Flowers declares a Valentine’s Day boycott, she gets more attention than she ever imagined. Now, there’s an idea....
—Kristin Gabriel
Books by Kristin Gabriel
HARLEQUIN LOVE & LAUGHTER
40—BULLETS OVER BOISE
56—MONDAY MAN
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U.S.: 3010 Walden Ave., P.O. Box 1325, Buffalo, NY 14269
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This book is dedicated to my friends in Prairieland Romance Writers for all their support, encouragement, and expertise—Mary Ann McQuillan, Sherry Siwinski, Sue Baumann, Julie Miller, Sue Lessor, Brad Roberts, Kathy Pieper and Victoria Lipovsky.
1
Send me no flowers,
nor letters so long.
It’s nothing personal,
you’re just Mr. Wrong.
“I’M NEVER GOING OUT on a blind date again!”
Rachel Grant strode into the ladies’ rest room in Luigi’s Ristorante, her sister Pam close on her heels. The scent of garlic and oregano wafted in after them, mingling with the floral air freshener in the tiny pink-and-white lavatory.
“C’mon, Rach. I know Gordon is a little eccentric,” Pam admitted. “But he isn’t that bad.”
“He was flossing his teeth at the table!”
“So he’s got good hygiene habits. I think that makes up for some of his other...flaws.”
“Like stealing that tip from the next table?”
“Actually I was talking about his toupee.” Pam leaned toward the minor, checking her makeup. “I’ve never seen him wear it at the office, and believe me, he looks much better without it. Very distinguished. I really thought you might like this one.”
Groaning with frustration, Rachel turned away. She’d had it with her three younger sisters’ attempts to fix her up. She’d been a bridesmaid at each of their weddings, and now they were bound and determined to wrap her in white and shove her down the aisle.
For the last year they’d besieged her with single men. Finally Rachel had drawn the line, insisting on no more than one blind date a month. In her opinion, that was still one too many, but a small penance to pay to keep her sisters happy. Unfortunately Gordon proved just how far they were willing to go.
Pam had even dragged along her poor husband for this disastrous double date. Now he was stuck out there watching her date floss. Rachel loved her sisters and all her brothers-in-law but there were some things even she wouldn’t do for her family. And suffering through the rest of this date was one of them.
She moved to the window, checking the dimensions. “It looks like a tight squeeze, but with a little luck and some Vaseline, I might be able to make it.”
“What are you talking about?” Pam exclaimed. “You can’t escape by climbing out the window. We’re on the top floor of a ten-story building!”
“I’m not going to escape, I’m planning to jump. It’s definitely preferable to hearing Gordon’s disgusting toenail fungus story again.”
“All right,” Pam said with a resigned sigh. “I get your point. Maybe we have gone a little overboard with some of these guys. We just want you to be happy.”
Rachel tamed to look at her sister. “I am happy. Really. I’m single, okay? It’s not exactly a terminal condition. All I want is for everybody to leave me and my love life alone.”
“You don’t have to pretend with me. You don’t have a love life.”
“I’m just in between men at the moment,” she said, brushing stray bread crumbs off the skirt of her new topaz blue wool dress. She’d loved this dress until Gordon had told her his grandmother had one just like it.
“At the moment? You haven’t seriously dated anyone since Russell dumped you.”
Rachel stiffened. “He didn’t dump me. He went on a sabbatical.”
Just hearing his name made her develop a sudden, insatiable craving for Twinkies. She’d consoled herself with cases of Twinkies for six months after Russell’s defection. But she’d broken the habit cold turkey and had been clean of Twinkies for the last six months.
“Your fiancé left the country without even telling you! He’s been gone for almost a year.”
“We never officially broke up.”
Pam rolled her eyes. “Does Russell write to you? Call you? Send you any messages by carrier pigeon?”
Why did she have to keep saying his name? Rachel’s mouth began to water. Just like one of Pavlov’s dogs. But she couldn’t help it. Her head was swimming with visions of moist, golden cake stuffed with creamy white filling.
“He’s in a very remote part of Africa,” Rachel replied. “Now I really don’t want to talk about Russell” She’d gotten over him much faster than she’d gotten over her craving for Twinkies, a sure sign that he wasn’t the man for her. “Why don’t we go grab some Twinkies out of the vending machine in the foyer, then make a run for it?”
“You always do that.”
Rachel blinked back her surprise at the vehemence in her sister’s voice. It wasn’t as though she was addicted. At least not anymore. “I haven’t had a Twinkie for months.”
“I mean you always change the subject. Whenever I try to bring up Russell, you start talking about something
else.”
“I do not.”
“You do, too!” Pam flipped her long brown hair over her shoulders. “And I’ve never heard you say one bad word against him.”
“Well...he always left the toilet seat up.” Rachel laughed. “Look, you don’t have to worry about me. I’m a therapist.” She pulled open her purse, searching for quarters for the vending machine. “I can handle rejection.”
“I always thought he was wrong for you anyway,” Pam mused, leaning against the pink pedestal sink. “I man, I know he’s a hunk, and I know entomology is probably a respectable field. But what kind of man works with bugs all day? And didn’t he have a cockroach collection?”
“With cockroaches from around the world,” Rachel said. “He wanted to display it in our living room after we were married. I voted for the garage.”
Pam shivered. “That’s so creepy. Can you imagine living with Russell and his dead cockroaches?”
“Not to mention his live gadfly collection. Which is another reason I’m so glad to still be single.” It was true. She had a great career. A nice apartment. A homicidal best friend.
“Speaking of cockroaches,” Rachel said, “did I tell you Gina’s husband left her for another woman?”
“Good thing she’s got a therapist for a best friend. But let’s talk about what’s really important here.”
“My escape plan?”
Pam folded her arms across her chest. Even standing three inches shorter than her big sister, she still looked formidable. Her stint in the air force had taught her not to back down from anything or anyone. Now a computer programmer, her military training still showed in her ramrod straight back and the unflinching gaze of her hazel eyes. “You’re doing it again, Rachel. You’re changing the subject.”
“Most sisters would take that as a hint.”
“This sister is worried about you. I don’t think you are over him. It’s like you’re stuck in Russell limbo.”
“You’ve been out of the dating loop for a while, Pam. It’s not as easy to meet men when you get older.”
“Oh, please.” Pam rolled her eyes. “You’re only thirty. If I had your gorgeous blond hair and big brown eyes and knockout body, I’d have a date every night.”
“Somehow I don’t think your husband would approve.”
“Just give Gordon one more chance. He’s probably done flossing by now. We can order dessert and see what happens.”
“I already know what will happen. We’ll be dodging chunks of panettone.” Rachel glanced at her watch. “Besides, I’ve got to get to work. My Transitions support group is meeting in twenty minutes.”
“You can’t be serious. You’re on a date!”
“My date has called his mother three times in the last hour. She can have him,” Rachel said with a smile. “I think I’ll have more fun dealing with despair and depression at my meeting.”
Pam sighed. “If you showed half as much devotion to finding a man as you do for that group, you’d have a date for Valentine’s Day. It’s coming up in a few weeks, you know.”
“I know.” Rachel rolled her eyes. “Black Sunday. I’ve got it marked on my calendar. That’s one of the reason’s my group is meeting tonight. They go into a tailspin whenever a holiday rolls around—especially Valentine’s Day. I just wish I could convince them that you don’t have to be in love to be happy.”
Pam didn’t look convinced herself. “Well, you shouldn’t have to sacrifice your personal life to prove it.”
“Believe me, with men like Gordon around, it’s no sacrifice.” Rachel gave her sister a quick hug. “I gotta go. Gina’s coming to the meeting tonight, and I want to get there early enough to introduce her to everybody.”
Pam threw her hands up in the air. “But what about Gordon? I think he likes you, Rachel. And I’m sure he’s planning to ask you out again. What should I tell him?”
“Tell him I jumped out the window.”
TO RACHEL’S SURPRISE, Gina didn’t have any trouble fitting into the Transitions support group. In less than fifteen minutes she knew Irma still talked to her dead husband, Frank just wanted to find a woman who liked bass fishing, and Lacie, a topless dancer, still pined for her boyfriend, who had recently moved out.
Gina sat cross-legged on the tweed sofa, dressed in gray sweatpants and an oversize Michigan State sweatshirt. Her dark, curly hair was pulled back into a ponytail. “So then he dumped me,” she explained, her fingers picking apart the empty foam cup in her hands. “For some woman that I swear I saw on one of those tabloid shows entitled, I Used To Be A Man.”
“Oh, dear,” Irma murmured. “One of those Transylvanians.”
“No, those are vampires, Irm,” Lacie said. Just twenty-two years old, Lacie had joined the group a month ago. Dressed in a skintight lime green leotard and high-topped pink sneakers, she supported her study of classical ballet by working the runway at a bar just outside of town.
“Now that would make an interesting show,” Frank said. “‘Cross-dressing Vampires.”’
Rachel smiled, already finding her Transitions group much more entertaining than her date with Gordon. “Cross-dressers are called transvestites. I think the word we’re looking for is transsexual.”
“That’s right,” Gina said. “I think she’s a transsexual. I mean, her name is Paula. Get it? Paul...Paula.”
“Oooh,” Irma squealed. “Like in that movie Victor /Victoria.”
Rachel shook her head. She’d seen Victor/Victoria enough times to know every line. The cockroach scene alone had made it one of Russell’s favorite movies. “That was a woman pretending to be a man pretending to be a woman.”
Frank wrinkled his brow in confusion. “So which one is the vampire?”
“I think we’re getting a little off track,” Rachel said. “We’re here to talk about Gina’s problems with her husband.”
“He is the problem.” Gina sighed. “I just have to finally accept that my marriage is over. Make a fresh start.”
“That’s the spirit,” Irma said. A former beautician, she looked younger than her seventy years. She’d joined the group after the death of her husband, sharing openly with them and giving the women makeup tips. “How about a makeover? A good concealer and a water-based foundation can do wonders for all those little worry lines. And I know just the shade of lipstick you should wear to keep you from looking sallow. You’ll feel like a new woman.”
Gina groaned, dropping her head back against the sofa. “I’m too old to start over. I don’t even want to think about dating again.”
“I think you look great,” Lacie said. “And you seem to be handling your husband dumping you really well.”
Gina shrugged. “Not really. If Rachel hadn’t talked me out of lacing his coffee with rat poison, I’d be sitting in a jail cell right now. But she knew just how I felt, after what she’d been through with Russell.”
Three pairs of eyes turned in Rachel’s direction.
“Who’s Russell?” Lacie asked.
“Were you married, Dr. Grant?” Irma asked.
Frank just stared at her, his mouth hanging open. At last he said, “I thought you were a lesbian.”
Rachel made a mental note to lace Gina’s coffee with rat poison. “No, I’m not, Frank. But we’re not here to talk about me.”
“Russell was her fiancé,” Gina explained. “He left her on Valentine’s Day. Isn’t that despicable?”
“It’s no big deal,” Rachel insisted.
“I think that’s awful,” Lacie exclaimed. “Dumped on the most romantic day of the year.”
“What’s so romantic about it?” Irma said. “Valentine’s Day is just an annual reminder that I’m old and alone in Love, Michigan.”
“Valentine’s Day is coming up in a few weeks,” Rachel said, veering the conversation away from her ex-fiancé. “How does everyone feel about that?”
“Lonely,” Frank said, “and wishing I was out on a lake somewhere instead of stuck in Love.” A former electrician
, he spent the majority of his retirement in a fishing boat. When his wife filed for divorce six months ago, she’d listed “alienation of affection to a wide-mouth bass” as one of her reasons.
Lacie cupped her chin in her palm. “It makes me feel like a loser.”
Irma sniffed. “It’s the most miserable day of the year.”
Rachel looked around at the long faces in her group. She’d been dreading Valentine’s Day, too, since all the romance in the air would propel her sisters into high matchmaking gear. But she’d never seen her group so forlorn and dejected. “I think the problem is that it lasts more than one day around here. We’re bombarded with Valentine’s Day for weeks on end. There’s the Cupid Parade...the Sweetheart Dance...the Most Romantic Couple contest.”