The Million-Dollar Marriage. Eva Rutland

      “Okay!” Tony said, taking her arm. “Wasn’t too long, was it?”

      Not long enough, she thought. She hadn’t yet discovered who the teenager was with. She hoped she was with her parents. But as she followed Tony through crowded tables to a booth, she decided she was more interested in finding out about him.

      “Are you a landscape artist?” she asked after the waitress had taken their order.

      “Not bloody likely.”

      “But you said—”

      “I lied.”

      “Shame on you,” she said, laughing.

      “To impress you.”

      “You wanted to impress me?”

      “Sure. Why do you think I borrowed the car?”

      “The Mustang? It’s not yours?”

      “Nope. Belongs to Pedro, my brother.”

      “Nice car. I enjoyed the ride. Thank him for me.”

      “Thank me. I’m doing the landscaping to pay for it.”

      “Oh. Then you really do landscaping?”

      He grinned. “If turning up the soil for a vegetable garden qualifies.”

      “Oh, you!” The waitress brought their drinks, and Mel was silent for the moment, wondering why she wanted to know everything about this man. Obviously, he was a jack-of-all-trades, and she shouldn’t embarrass him by pressing. She couldn’t seem to help herself. “Will you stop trying to impress me and tell me what you really do?”

      “Like I told you, everything. Okay, okay,” he said, holding up a hand as if to ward off her scowl. “I’m in business for myself. And I only stretched the truth a bit. I’ve got two more years at the State in Landscape Architecture.”

      “Really? I am impressed.”

      “You needn’t be. It’s a long way off. Evening school only, because I have to keep working, and then I have to do an apprenticeship before I can get a license.”

      “But it sounds like a great career.” She paused as the waitress set a plate piled with mounds of spaghetti before her. How was she to manage all that? she wondered, as she watched him expertly wind the spaghetti around his fork and begin to eat with relish. “I never can eat it like you’re supposed to,” she announced as she took her knife and cut small pieces, and sampled a forkful. “Delicious!”

      “Yeah. Beno’s special,” he said.

      “So, how did you happen to get into landscaping?” she asked.

      “Grandma’s rock garden.”

      “Come again?”

      “Grandma wanted a rock garden and... Well, maybe it started before that. You see, I never wanted a nine-to-five job. At least not the kind my folks, Pop and both my brothers are into. Road construction. Guess I got a thing against concrete.”

      “Oh? That’s a strange bias.”

      “Guess so, but there it is,” he said. “Bugs me when good soil gets covered up. And we’re getting closed in. Frank’s got one of those new houses on Benton Circle. About an inch between him and his neighbors and not enough yard to spit in.”

      “Who’s Frank?”

      “That’s my oldest brother.”

      “How many brothers do you have?”

      “Just two.”

      “And a grandmother,” she added to remind him. “Who wanted a rock garden.”

      “Yeah. My grandparents have this farm, a hundred and fifty acres, in Virginia, about an hour from here. Grandpa’s not farming now. Bad case of arthritis. Anyway, there’s not much profit since the big combines have taken over. He was about to sell it for a pile, but the developer ran into zoning problems, and backed down.” Tony paused to take a swallow of beer. “That was my lucky day.”

      “Why so?”

      “I talked Gramps into leasing to me.”

      “But you said there was no profit—”

      “In vegetables. Flowers are different.”

      She put her fork down and stared at him. “You’re opening a florist shop?”

      “Nope. A wholesale nursery. You see, I spent a lot of time on my grandparents’ farm, and I just got into growing things. With all these acres of good rich soil—”

      “Wait a minute. You said you’re studying to be a landscape artist.”

      “That came later with Grandma’s rock garden.”

      “I see. Meanwhile you’re running a wholesale nursery.”

      “Not yet. There’s equipment to buy, greenhouses to build...things like that. Not to mention the plants themselves.”

      “So you’re actually planning two careers.”

      “Not really. Don’t you see how the two fit together?” He began to talk of his plans with a boyish enthusiasm that intrigued her. The clatter of silver and the murmurs of other diners faded as she sat in the little booth and listened. Through his eyes she began to see hundreds of florists and supermarkets filled with lovely luscious and unusual plants from his nursery, landscapes green with the trees and shrubs that would break up the concrete surrounding houses, condominiums, even commercial buildings and shopping centers.

      Melody Sands, bored up to the ying-yang with all the successful investments and mergers discussed by all the rich successful men she encountered, listened with deep interest and awe to the dreams of this young man who was starting on a shoestring. She liked being a Miss Nobody listening to an ordinary guy talk about... No. Nothing ordinary about this guy who was really a hunk, worked like a Trojan and dreamed big.

      “I guess it will take some time,” she said.

      “And money,” he said. “Why do you think I’m planting roses, cutting lawns, and having to borrow a car to impress the most fascinating woman I’ve ever met?”

      “The most fascinating?” she teased.

      “The most,” he said with emphasis.

      “Well, thanks for the flattery, but you didn’t need a car to impress me. I could have ridden in the truck.”

      “You don’t belong in a truck.”

      “How do you know where I belong?”

      He didn’t. And that’s what bothered him. But he knew she didn’t belong in a truck. From the moment he saw her, standing so erect, the wind whipping that mass of flaming red hair... He reached across the table to touch it. It felt like silk. “Is it for real?” he asked, just as he had the first time he saw it.

      “Of course it’s for real! Do you think I’d be fool enough to dye it this crazy color?”

      “Not crazy. It’s out of sight.”

      “Ha! If you knew how many times I’ve thought of dying it. A nice conservative brown or—”

      “Don’t you dare!” She jumped and even he was surprised at his vehemence. Why did he feel such possessiveness toward this woman he hardly knew?

      Damn it, he didn’t have time to possess any woman. Especially this one. Why did he sense she was out of his league? There was something about her. Something...well, classy. The way she carried herself with a certain confidence, maybe even arrogance. Even this morning, in that tattered jacket, her hair in disarray, she had looked...well, elegant. And so beautiful she took his breath away.

      It’s not the way she looks. It’s the way she is. Warm, caring. Interested. He had sat all this evening