Full Bloom

to accept any invitation he extended. She wondered if he was going to break a date with the mysterious Marcia in order to be free tonight.
    It was time to start easing out of the situation. Preferably without any major confrontations. Emily hated confrontations. She was much better at handling them than she used to be, thanks to her assertiveness training course, but she still disliked the emotional turmoil they caused within her. Too many years of trying to appease her family had taken its toll.
    "Thanks, Damon, but I've already made plans for this evening and I'm sure you have, too. Maybe some other time."
    There was a startled moment of silence on the other end of the line. Then Damon said lightly. "Other plans? Me? Are you kidding? No such luck. I was just going to have a sandwich and go over a few papers at home." His voice became coaxing. "Come on, honey, let's get together tonight. We can try another place if you don't want Italian food. I'm open and I really want to see you. Name your poison."
    Emily summoned up her assertiveness training. "Thank you for the invitation, Damon, but I'm afraid I'm not free tonight."
    "Well, if you don't feel like going out, we can eat in. I'll pick up some takeout from a delicatessen and a bottle of wine and we can relax at your place."
    There was an underlying forcefulness in Damon's voice now. He was a man who was accustomed to getting his own way. It occurred to Emily that she knew entirely too many people who had that problem. She closed her eyes and repeated the simple, nonconfrontational words just as she had been taught. Quiet repetition was the trick.
    "Thank you for the invitation, Damon, but I'm afraid I'm not free tonight."
    "How about Wednesday night?" he demanded instantly.
    Emily swallowed. "I'm going to be busy Wednesday night, also."
    "Is that right?" Damon sounded distinctly skeptical. "Well, maybe early next week. I'll give you a call. Have a good time tonight and tomorrow night and Wednesday." He hung up the phone with a cool impatience that filtered through the line.
    Emily shuddered with relief as she replaced the receiver. Diane was watching her.
    "That was Damon Morrell getting the brush-off?"
    "I'm afraid so. All I could think about was that tape recording of him telling his lady friend that he was going to marry me in order to get control of my RI shares. Somehow the magic went out of the relationship after I heard that."
    "I can see why. I must say you handled it well. Very calm and nonconfrontational."
    "My assertiveness instructor would be proud," Emily agreed dryly.
    "Of course, that leaves you with an empty evening," Diane pointed out.
    "It won't be the first. I'll do something exciting like wash my hair. Hand me that bunch of snapdragons, will you? And that lily. You may be right—this might be the year to go for glitz and glamour."
    "Now you're talking."
    But at five o'clock that afternoon, Emily glanced up from putting the last of the unsold flowers into the cooler and got the distinct impression she was not going to be spending the evening alone washing her hair, after all.
    Jacob Stone walked purposefully through the front door, and Emily instantly conjured up images of bulls in china shops. He came to a halt in the middle of the small store, and Emily changed her mind. He wasn't exactly a bull tiptoeing through stacks of delicate china cups and saucers. He was more like a dragon in a tea garden.
    Jacob paused and looked around with considerable interest. He was wearing a gray windbreaker over a dark shirt and dark trousers. He had made no concession to the light mist that was falling outside and his hair was damp. He took his time examining the place as if mentally cataloging every square inch of it.
    "Can I help you?" Diane asked cheerfully. Her eyes were speculative as she ran them over the newcomer.
    Jacob spared her a short glance and then his gaze moved on to Emily, who was watching him from behind a huge bunch of yellow jonquils.
    "No, thanks. I came to ask Emily to have dinner with me. Hello, Emily."
    Emily peered at him through the flowers. "Hello, Jacob. This is a surprise."
    "Isn't it, though?" Diane said without batting an eye. "And an interesting one, too. Emily has other plans for the evening. She's going to wash her hair. So you're Jacob?"
    Jacob switched his gaze back to her. "That's right. Jacob Stone."
    "Ah, yes," Diane said wisely. "You're the one who periodically steps in to rescue Emily. I heard all about the way you