The President's Daughter - Mariah Stewart [61]
“Did you forget something, Will?” Dina’s back was to him, and he stood for a moment admiring the view.
“Yes. I forgot to ask for your phone number.”
She turned, a quizzical look on her face, a look that turned to surprise, then to pleasure when she saw Simon standing in the doorway.
“Oh. Simon.” Dina said, and then did something that went straight to Simon’s heart.
She blushed.
“Did I startle you?” Simon couldn’t keep from smiling.
“No, no. I thought you were Will. . . . He just took some plants to a customer.” She gestured toward the drive and the place where the pickup had been parked.
“Yes. Something purple.” Simon stuck his hands in the pockets of his jacket to keep them from reaching out and smoothing back her hair.
“Heather.”
“Did you grow it yourself?”
“Yes. It’s a big seller this time of year.”
“Is all of this yours?” He indicated the fields behind the greenhouse.
“Yes. All mine.”
“Looks like quite a business.”
“Thank you, it is.”
“You built it yourself.” It wasn’t a question.
“Yes.”
“You must be very proud.”
“I am.” Dina moved a tray of seedlings and brushed her open palms on her jeans to clean them off. “How’s your book coming along?”
“It’s doing well.”
“Good. Are you almost finished?”
“Almost finished with the research, yes.”
“It must be exciting, to write a book about a famous person.”
“It’s had its moments”—Simon nodded—“but maybe not as exciting as owning your own business.”
“Well, that has its moments, too.” She grinned.
The phone rang, and she excused herself to him before turning to answer it.
“Yes. . . . Ohmigosh, I forgot. Go ahead, Polly, leave. I’ll be there in a few minutes. Take my car; the keys are under the seat. Have fun.”
She turned to Simon and said, “I have to run up to the shop. My assistant’s daughter is in a play at school, and if she doesn’t leave right now she’ll miss it.”
“That’s okay; you go on. I just stopped by to see if you’re free on Saturday night,” Simon heard himself say.
Taken off guard, Dina turned and looked up into his eyes. “What?”
“I wanted to know if you were free on Saturday night. I was thinking dinner.” Simon pretended to frown. “Or is there a boyfriend I’ll have to beat up first?”
“No boyfriend.” She was smiling now.
“Hard to believe. What is wrong with the men around here?”
“Aren’t you from around here?”
“No. I live in Arlington.”
“Arlington, Virginia?” Her pretty mouth opened in surprise. “You’d drive all the way from Arlington, Virginia, just to have dinner?”
“To have dinner with you, yes, I would.”
“Now I am flattered. But wait; you’re not doing this just to pump me for information about my mother’s friend, are you?” She made an X over her chest. “She hasn’t told me a thing, honest.”
Simon laughed. “Actually, I did stop by to see your mother this morning at the library, but they said she’d called in sick. When I stopped at the house, no one answered the door.”
Dina frowned. “I spoke with her last night and she was fine. She must be having one of her migraines. I’ll run over this afternoon and see how she is. Sometimes those headaches keep her flat on her back for a full day. Thanks for alerting me. I’ll check up on her later. Was there something you’d like me to ask her? About her friend? I could have her give you a call.”
Simon hesitated. It wasn’t exactly the type of thing he wanted to discuss on the phone.
“Maybe she could just give me a call when she’s feeling better.” Simon reached into a pocket and pulled out a card, which he handed to Dina. “Maybe if she’s free I can catch up with her on Saturday before I pick you up. And speaking of Saturday, would seven o’clock be too early for dinner?”
“Seven would be great.”
“Where should I pick you up?”
She pointed to the carriage house.
“Convenient.”
“Very.”
“I know you’re busy,” he said as he took a step to the door. “I don’t want to take up too much of your time.”
“You can walk me to the shop.” She walked around the opposite side of the table and opened the door, gestured