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"Is it safe to enter?"

No matter how bad things got, Gina could always make her smile. "Come on in."

"What has that prick done to put you in such a mood?" She heard Gina ask from beyond the door. The door swung open, and a huge flower arrangement with legs appeared. The legs Rosalie guessed were Gina's; the flower arrangement looked like something you'd see in a really expensive hotel. The kind of flowers that looked so perfect, you had to touch them to see if they were real. Of course, when you did, everyone knew you'd grown up in a house with fake flowers and plastic fruit.

"What does the card say?" It never occurred to her that Gina hadn't already read it.

"'Nick.' That's it. Do you believe the nerve of that man? You come to work in the mood from hell; you have everyone from the mailroom on up walking around with wastepaper baskets on their heads to protect them from the fallout; and the only clue to the puzzle that is Rosalie Ronaldi's bad mood is 'Nick'? What did he do? You can tell me. I'll call Sam, and he can go over there and rough him up."

"Sam's a cop. Cops don't rough people up."

"You're right, I'll have to handle it myself. I told you he was trouble."

"Down, girl. It's not Nick. Nick's been, well... you know."

"No, I don't know. I wish you'd tell me, so I can deal with it and go on with my terribly uneventful, boring, and tedious life."

"Gina, I'm sorry. I can't talk about this. It's family stuff and-"

"Did something happen to Richie?"

"No. He's fine. I'm sorry about today."

"That's okay. It was almost worth it to see the big boss confused. He had the nerve to ask me if women could have PMS twice in one month."

"He didn't!"

Gina set the flowers on the credenza and took a seat across from the desk. She kicked off her shoe and pulled her leg underneath her.

"Okay, if Nick The Prick didn't hurt you, then what happened?"

"Gina, would you please stop calling him that? He's been-" "What?"

Damn, why had she opened her mouth? "Great."

"If I had to venture a guess, I'd say you must be pretty great, too, to rate those flowers. It looks like he signed the card himself."

She tossed the small envelope on Rosalie's desk.

"How can you tell?"

"Puleeze, do I have to teach you everything? Look. It's written with a masculine hand, and you know the only people who work in flower shops are women and gay men."

Rosalie opened the envelope, and sure enough, there was Nick's name scrawled in his writing. She opened the top drawer of her desk and tucked the envelope inside.

"Uh, oh. I knew it!"

Gina launched herself out of the chair and planted her hands on the desk.

"You're saving the card. You're falling for him."

"I am not. I save all my cards."

"Okay, then show me Joey's card from the last time he sent flowers. When was that? Oh, right, your birthday."

There wasn't one other card in the drawer. Damn.

"You can't, because you threw it in the trash along with the flowers a few days later. No great loss there. They were cheap flowers."

Rosalie tossed Nick's card into the trash. "There, are you happy now?"

Gina inspected her manicure. "Not especially. I'll leave you now, so you can drool over your flowers in private and dig the card out of the trash can. If you change your mind and want to talk about whatever it is that caused this lovely mood, you know where to reach me."

What could she say? If she thanked Gina, she'd be admitting that she'd drool over the flowers and dig the card out of the trash. Not that Gina ever doubted it, but still, a girl had her pride. "Thanks for the offer. If I need to talk to someone, you'll be the first person I call."

Gina rose, slipped on her stilettos, and sashayed through the door. "Have fun going through your trash."

The door closed on Rosalie's response, which was probably a good thing.

After waiting to see if Gina would come back to catch her in the act, Rosalie took her time drooling over the flowers. But not even flowers could cheer her. She should be handling this better. It wasn't as if she hadn't suspected her father was screwing around, but seeing proof was a different story.

Rosalie picked up the phone and dialed. "Hi, Ma."

"Rosalie? What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Why?"

"You never call unless something is wrong. Are you sure you're okay? You don't sound like yourself. Did that cafone cafone do something to hurt you? I told you, he had the devil in his eyes. I don't know why you don't find a nice steady man like your father. You could call Joey-" do something to hurt you? I told you, he had the devil in his eyes. I don't know why you don't find a nice steady man like your father. You could call Joey-"

"Ma, stop. I'm not going to call Joey. I only want to find out how you and Papa are."

"Tell me what it is. You never call without a reason."

So much for subtlety. "Okay, Ma, you caught me. I've been thinking that you and Papa should take some time and do something together. I have a friend with a time-share in Florida. On Sanibel Island. She's offered it to me any time I want. Do you and Papa want to go down for a week or even a long weekend? I can arrange the whole thing. What do you think?"

"Rosalie, I told you, your father's working on a big project. He's not going to want to go out of town."

"Maybe he will, if you ask. When was the last time you two did anything remotely romantic? Why don't you go to Florida and invest time in your relationship?"

"Ever since you met that cafone, cafone, you're talking and acting nuts. You know, I saw on Oprah-" you're talking and acting nuts. You know, I saw on Oprah-"

"Ma, there's nothing wrong with me. I only wanted to do something nice for you and Papa. Talk to him. Maybe you can talk him into slowing down enough to go for a long weekend. Try. Okay?"

"Sure, okay. Rosalie? You sure you're all right? Is something wrong?"

"I'm feeling run down and tired. I guess it's harder to get over pneumonia than the usual crud. I'm not supposed to be working full days yet. Maybe it's catching up with me. I'm not sure I'll be up for Sunday. I'll call you."

"You want I should bring you some chicken soup?"

"No, Ma, but thanks. I have soup at home."

"Okay, cookie. I'll talk to you soon, then."

A tear escaped, and Rosalie brushed it away. Her mother hadn't called her cookie in years. "'Bye, Mama. I love you."

She hung up the phone and looked at all the work she'd been avoiding piled on the desk.

Her phone beeped. "Ro, a man is on line one. He said his name is Nick. Just Nick."

"Thanks, Gina." She took a deep breath. "Hello?"

"Hi. How's your day?"

"Not so good, but the flowers are beautiful. Thanks, Nick."

"I thought you might need some cheering up. Plus, it gives me an excuse to pick you up from work. I'm parked across the street, whenever you're ready."

"I was wondering how I was going to get the flowers home. It would have been a shame to leave them in the office, but I wasn't looking forward to the subway ride."

"I can come up and carry them for you."

"No. I mean, thanks, but that's not necessary. I'll be down in a little while, all right? Let me clean off my desk and check my schedule for Monday."

"Okay. I'll see you in a few."

She hung up the phone and beeped Gina. "Can you come in here for a minute? I need to go over next week's schedule before I leave." "Sure thing, boss, but isn't it a little early?" She strolled in with her notepad and a printout of the calendar.

"You have lunch with Mr. Lassiter, Sr., on Monday."

"Okay. E-mail him the report so I don't have to shock him into a three-martini lunch."

"Good idea. You have a meeting with Mr. Hunter, the senior loan officer, at three. His office. He's making you dance."

"I'll remember to wear my tap shoes. Is there anything I need to look over before Monday morning's staff meeting?"

"I have a file on my desk that will fill you in on everything you missed this last week."

"Fine. I'm going to take off. Have a good weekend."

Gina picked up the flowers. "I'll help you downstairs with these."

"No, thanks, I've got it." Rosalie threw the strap of her briefcase over her shoulder and took the flowers from Gina.

"You won't even let me catch a glimpse of your Romeo, will you?"

"Not if lean help it."

"What if I promise not to say anything?"

"As if that were possible. Come on, Gina. Just because you promised not to say anything about who he is doesn't mean you won't say something else equally horrible. You're passive-aggressive." She didn't mention the fact that sometimes Gina was not quite so passive.

Gina crossed her arms and pouted-a pout that would have had every male on the planet rushing to do her bidding.

"It's not going to work."

She humphed and blew her straight black bangs out of her eyes. "Fine. Here. Give me your briefcase, and I'll leave it at the security desk."

Nick had had a lunch meeting with his bankers in the financial district, so it wasn't a big deal to stop by and pick up Rosalie. Of course, he had to go all the way uptown to the New York Athletic Club on Central Park South to change clothes. Okay, so he was pathetic; it wasn't as if he didn't know he was pathetic.

He couldn't stop thinking about how she'd looked the night before when she caught her father with his mistress. She'd been an amazing mixture of a scared little girl and a pissed off, indignant woman. For a minute, he'd been afraid she'd go after her father, which would have been very bad on several levels. It would have been the last time he'd have been able to take her to his favorite restaurant in Nolita, plus it would have cost him a fortune to get her out of jail and defend her for murder. After he'd shuffled her out of the restaurant, he'd thought for sure he was in for an evening of weeping. He'd been wrong again. Rosalie hadn't shed one tear. After the blood returned to her face, she'd pulled herself together, and though she'd been quiet, she'd never shown weakness. It was scary. She had a way of putting up an impenetrable wall that, even when they'd made love, he hadn't been able to breach. It bothered him. Not that making love to her was a hardship, but it would be nice to feel as if it meant something to her other than a physical release.

Nick scrubbed his hands over his face and laughed out loud. He felt like an ass. He had exactly what he wanted. He'd finally found someone who wasn't falling all over herself to trick him into marriage, and it was denting his ego. Ain't that a kick in the pants? Damn, he'd thought he knew himself, then one woman walked into his life and turned everything upside down.

A flash of red caught his eye. She'd stepped out of the revolving door, and all he could see were her legs. The wind had whipped down the street and blown open her long, red cashmere coat. He couldn't complain about the view but wondered what she was thinking. She was getting over pneumonia, and she didn't have the sense to button her damn coat? Was she asking for a relapse? The flowers covered the rest of her. Maybe he had overdone the flowers. He'd never even asked the florist the price. Damn, he had to remember he was supposedly living on a service manager's salary. He was sure a greenhouse full of flowers would set a service manager back a year's poker money.

She rested the vase on her hip to scan the street, and when she saw him leaning against the car, a smile took shape before she consciously shut it down. It wasn't much, but it was something. Maybe she wasn't as immune to him as she acted.

Nick nodded at her and jaywalked through the throng of cabs waiting at the light.

"Here, let me take those." Nick took the flowers from her with one hand and pulled her in close for a kiss. "Button up. It's cold as hell out here."

Rosalie raised an eyebrow but said nothing. She made fast work of the buttons while groaning her displeasure. He figured he'd gotten off easy.

"I'll be right back. I need to run to the security desk for my briefcase."

"Okay. I'll put these in the car."

He was contemplating where to put the arrangement when she came up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist.

"How are you going to get that monstrosity in there?"

"I'm going to have to push your seat forward as far as it'll go and set them on the floor in the back."

"You know, everyone I saw while I was carrying these down from my office looked at me with such pity. A couple of them even asked if you had done something awful and were groveling."

Nick handed her the flowers and bent down to move the seat. He looked up and smiled. "Yeah? What did you say?"

"I told them no. Now they all think you're compensating for something."

He shook his head, took the flowers from her, and wedged them into the backseat. "Great."

She reached out and squeezed his shoulder before she gave him a nudge. "Oh, come on, Nick. You have to admit, the flowers are a little over the top."

He slid the seat as far back as he could without breaking the vase and stood, pulling her into his arms. "All right. I went a little overboard, but it was worth it. You look happy."

"I don't know about happy, but I did have a good laugh."

Nick helped her into the car. He got a bonus on the flowers as she tried to pull her skirt down in the legroom-less front seat. A good deed rewarded.

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