Full Bloom

blue ribbon that was attached to the elegantly simple floral design sitting beside her. She knew exactly what was causing her depression, Some silly, optimistic part of her had actually expected Jacob to show up at the flower show.
    She had been counting on it, she admitted to herself as she parked the car and got out. She had been pinning all her hopes on the expectation. She should have known better. A couple of dozen yellow roses and a note of apology had obviously not been enough to soothe his wounded ego.
    Men, as she had just finished telling Diane over the victory drink her assistant had insisted on buying, were more trouble than they were worth.
    She went around to the other side of the car and removed the flower arrangement that had brought her the ribbon that evening. Diane had been wrong, Emily told herself without much pleasure. The judges this year had been impressed by subtlety. She was glad she had followed her instincts and concentrated on a simple, graceful design of tiny orchids and curving vines. Using only minimal materials, she had made a final arrangement that had somehow evoked a quiet jungle pool. One judge had remarked that just looking at the design gave the viewer a feeling of elegant serenity.
    Diane had been thrilled with the blue ribbon, Emily reminded herself as she walked to the elevators. Maybe tomorrow or the next day, she, too, would take some genuine pleasure in her accomplishment. Right now all she could think of was that Jacob had not forgiven her.
    She rode up to her floor in an empty elevator and fumbled with her keys in the hall outside her door. She wondered what Jacob had done with the roses. Somehow, she had thought he would like them. In spite of his hardness there was a part of him that she knew responded to flowers. She had seen the way he handled them in the shop. He used the same tender touch that he used when he handled her. Perhaps she had only been fooling herself.
    She opened the door and stepped into the apartment.
    And stopped short, a tiny scream on her lips as she realized the living room light was on and the chair near the window was occupied.
    "Don't panic," Jacob advised laconically as he got up. "It's not as bad as it looks."
    "Jacob! What on earth are you doing here? What happened to you?" Emily set her flower arrangement down on a nearby table and stared at him. "You're bleeding."
    "Still?" He frowned down at the damp cloth he held in one hand and then wiped his cut lip with it. "Damn. I thought that had stopped."
    "There's blood all over your shirt. And your mouth. And you've got a bruise under your eye." Emily finally came unstuck from the floor and moved forward. "What happened to you?" She hurried toward him, alarm in her wide eyes and then she stopped directly in front of him, staring at his bruised face. "Did you have an accident?"
    "You could say that." He smiled crookedly, wincing at the effort. His eyes gleamed. "No kiss for the wounded hero?"
    "
Oh, Jacob
." She threw her arms around him.
    "Ouch!"
    Instantly she released him. "Your ribs, too?"
    "I'm not as young as I used to be," he confessed. He touched her parted lips with the callused tip of his thumb and his gaze softened. "I got the flowers, sweetheart."
    "My flowers weren't responsible for this."
    "True. A couple of punks waiting downstairs in your garage were responsible for this. About the flowers, honey. I want you to know how much—"
    "You were attacked?" Emily yelped. "In my garage?"
    "I've been telling you since the first time I saw it that your garage was potentially dangerous. You know, when the kid brought the roses to my door I thought there had been a mistake. I assumed they must have been meant for someone else and I—"
    "I've never had any problem in that garage and neither has anyone else in the building," she interrupted forcefully, scanning him for more evidence of wounds. "Oh, once or twice a prowler got in and swiped a couple of tape decks, but that's all. There's never been anything like this in the whole time I've lived here. Jacob, this is awful. Did you call the police?"
    "Yes. Emily—"
    "Maybe we should call the building manager. Or have you already done it?" She looked up at him with worried eyes. "I wonder what those two punks could have wanted?"
    "It was probably just another straightforward robbery attempt that went awry. Happens all the time in the city. Maybe they were going to use the garage elevators to gain access to the apartments upstairs," Jacob