“You doin’ okay there?” asked Dad, his lips shiny with grease. “Your mama is worried about you with all this work and no Rubi.”
Funny how, from the first moment she’d stepped into his mama’s house, the family considered them a couple. At the barbecue, he hadn’t thought they’d be together. He’d hoped for it, had even asked her out, and she’d turned him down. Cash tossed the chicken bone into the garbage. “I don’t know how I’m gonna last two more weeks. I feel like someone’s taken off with half of my head.”
“That would explain why you’re letting the corn drip on your invoices.”
“Shoot!” Cash grabbed his plate and wiped up with a paper towel. His office, normally tidy and filed right, was a disaster. It was a wonder anything got done since Rubi left town.
“Stop bein’ an idiot and do something about it.”
“Like what?”
Dad shrugged, the corners of his mouth pulling down in thought. “Send her flowers.”
“I can’t. The only address I have for her is the studio address, and that’s not going to work. By the time they forward the flowers on, they’d be dead. Besides, Rubi doesn’t like flowers.”
Dad leaned back and folded his arms. “She doesn’t like flowers,” he said dubiously.
“She said it,” Cash insisted. “She said she didn’t like when a man sent her flowers after a fight because she felt like he was trying to buy her off.”
“Did you have a fight?”
“No.”
“Then send the darn flowers.” Dad relaxed and picked up a biscuit. “Flowers, for no reason, are the universal sign forI’m interested.”
“She knows I’m interested.”
Dad handed him his phone. “Send the flowers or I’ll give you something to be interested in.”
“Fine. I’ll prove to you this is not going to work.” Cash lurched towards his computer, searching for a phone number for Knight Studios.
The phone rang once, and then: “Hello, Knight Studios. How may I help you?”
“Hi, I’m Cash Lowell. I’m, um, seeing, Rubi Walsh. Um, I was hoping I could send her some flowers? Can I get an address for the set in Utah?” He added the last bit so the woman would know he knew where Rubi was. Wait, maybe that was worse. He scrubbed at his hair.
Dad held up his hands and rolled his eyes—telling Cash he sounded like an idiot.
Like Cash didn’t already know that.
“I’m sorry, I can’t give out that information. Thank you for calling and have a lovely day.” The line went dead.
“That was a bust.”
Dad came around the desk and pulled Cash up by his collar, pushing him towards the door. Cash was two inches taller than his dad and about thirty pounds of muscle bigger, yet he let the man haul him around like he was still a skinny twelve-year-old. Probably because when your dad grabs you like that, you are twelve again. “Hey,” he protested as Dad slammed the door shut behind them.
“If you let a little thing like this stand in your way, then you aren’t the man I raised you to be. You get yourself down there and don’t leave until you know where to find your girl.”
“Okay.” Cash held up both hands. He had a ton of work to do, but he wasn’t about to argue with his father—not when he used that tone, and not when his dad was only pushing him to do something he already wanted to do.
He made short work of the drive to Knight Studios and parked. His face was already burning with embarrassment from his phone call and the thought that he was about to face the woman who had hung up on him. He vowed not to mention the conversation—ever again.
The glass door opened with a whoosh, and cool air hit him in the face. He surveyed the room quickly. The place was big, with enough space for the buffet lunches Rubi told him about. There was a cluster of couches to the left and in the center of the room was a circular counter. The older woman working the phones had gray curly hair that came to her chin, soft skin, and plenty of wrinkles. There was a plate of peanut butter cookies on the counter. They had the tell-tale fork imprints of someone who knows how to make a good cookie.
Cash strode to the counter with purpose in his step. He wasn’t leaving until he had the information he needed, because he needed to connect with Rubi, and the only way to do that now was through digital means. And that just wasn’t cutting it. The bubble set was great—he loved the pictures she’d sent with the thank-you. But he wanted her to know he was interested—very interested. Crap, he’d spend his marketing nest egg on flowers if that’s what it took to tell her how he felt.
What he really needed to do—what he wanted to do more than anything in the world—was hold her in his arms and kiss her soft, luscious lips, and just breathe her in. Sometime, between her driving him crazy about Trent and driving him crazy with her kisses, Rubi had become his anchor. Their four phone calls and dozens of texts weren’t doin’ it for him.
“Hi.” Cash smiled, trying hard to put off a sense of being normal. “How’s your day goin’ ” He glanced at her nameplate. “Daphne?”
