The law offices of Blackstone and Davidson was housed in one of the prettiest buildings in downtown Larkin Bay, Scott decided. And, since Larkin Bay was one of the most charming small towns he had ever seen, it was extremely fortunate that he and Courtney, his dearest friend from Stanford Law School, had been able to rent this beautiful historical property for their firm’s office. Smiling, Scott imagined the planter he had bought this morning outside the front door. Courtney had been right that the entrance needed the welcoming touch of flowers, and the one that Kara had suggested would suit this location perfectly. Taking a step back, he continued admiring the building that had been rebuilt after an arsonist’s actions had threatened it a year ago. The town had worked hard, with the help of federal funding, to rebuild, and the results were stunning. Flowers out front would be the perfect finishing touch.
Nodding, Scott decided he would drive back out to the garden center tomorrow, or possibly even later today, to check on Maeve and pick up his purchase so he could put it in its picture-perfect place.
Whistling a popular show tune, he walked toward his new office’s entrance, fumbling with his keys, trying to find the one Courtney had sent. After opening the door, the smell of fresh paint and varnish filled the surrounding air. Scott quickly realized that even though he was already weary of living in a hotel room while the renovation work here was being completed, he’d made the right decision to wait a few days before moving into his new apartment above the office. Holding one hand up to cover his nose, he turned back to the door and used the newspaper from the doorstep to jam the door open.
Perhaps the afternoon’s soft spring breezes will help eliminate some of the construction smells.
“It’s nice, isn’t it?” asked a voice from behind him.
Scott startled in surprise, but then warmly embraced the tall, casually dressed woman with honey-colored hair. “Courtney!” he exclaimed. “I didn’t know you’d be here today.”
She laughed. “I didn’t, either. But I was visiting with my sister, and as I was driving by to grab us some groceries, I recognized your car. So I decided to spare a minute to talk to my favorite law partner and see what he thought of the office space I found for us.” Smiling at him, she grabbed his hand to lead him farther inside. “It’s wonderful here, isn’t it? Come on, tell me what a great job I’ve done!”
Courtney proceeded to tour Scott around their office. “You have to see everything,” she proudly proclaimed as she pulled open drawers, made him sit in the comfy, ergonomically correct desk chairs, and finally, had him admire the oversize, dark wooden table she’d purchased for their boardroom.
“It all looks amazing,” Scott told her as he ran an appreciative hand across the smooth surface of the table. “I owe you big-time for all the work you’ve done here.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll get my payback one day,” she replied with a smile.
Courtney was just showing Scott the small private meeting rooms at the back of the office and was filling him in on the pro bono work she was doing in town when a deep voice called out from the firm’s foyer.
When she heard the greeting, Courtney’s already animated face lit up even brighter, and she quickly hurried to the front reception area, where she threw herself into the arms of a tall, dark-haired man.
“Peter,” she said after she had kissed him, “this is Scott, the lawyer I told you about and my new partner! And, Scott, this is the love of my life and my fiancé, Peter!” Both men grinned at her enthusiasm and took a step toward each other to shake hands.
Now that the introductions were complete, Courtney grabbed each of them by an arm and started pulling them toward the office’s stairwell. “Let’s go check out the renovations on Scott’s new apartment upstairs,” she said. “I can’t wait to see it now that all the painting and flooring is finished.”
Smiling at her excitement, Scott followed the couple out into the hallway. As Courtney and Peter climbed the stairs ahead of him, he saw they were holding hands. This small, intimate gesture suddenly caused him to wonder how Kara was doing.
I haven’t felt a spark like that with a woman for a long time, if ever.
Taking his hand off the banister, he paused and decided he would go back to the garden center as soon as Courtney finished showing him around to collect the planter. Once there, he’d check to see how Maeve was doing, and if when he saw Kara, the chemistry between them was as strong as he remembered, he’d ask her out for dinner.
A smile crept across his lips and he felt an extra skip in his step, confirming his decision was the right one as he continued following Peter and Courtney on the tour.
The morning had been traumatic and emotionally exhausting, but Kara wasn’t the least bit tired. After the hospital released Maeve, she had taken her daughter home for a nap and while the little girl slept, Kara had spent most of the hour just gazing at her daughter’s beautiful face and listening to her breath—deeply grateful that Maeve hadn’t been badly hurt.
Now driving through Larkin Bay, she spoke to Mary on her car’s speakerphone. “I know I’m acting slightly irrational,” Kara said as she searched for a parking spot. “Maeve really does seem to be fine, but I still can’t shake the scare I got coming into the office and seeing her sobbing on the floor and bleeding.” She shuddered. “It’s an image that’s going to haunt me forever.”
“Maeve is going to be just fine,” Mary reassured her again. “And the fact that her glucose levels are slightly out of whack doesn’t mean that something is wrong there, either. Just take her to the pediatrician this week and follow up with the tests they suggested so you can put your heart and mind at ease.”
Kara chewed on her bottom lip and considered Mary’s words. Her friend was probably right—there most likely wasn’t anything to worry about. But Kara had noticed that Maeve seemed unusually thirsty lately.
“I hope you’re right,” she replied but let her heart and worries lighten slightly as she continued listening to Mary’s reassurances while she hunted for parking.
After pulling into a metered spot, Kara finally disconnected the call and checked the number on the building across the street against the address on the invoice on the passenger seat beside her. As she looked at the building, Kara whistled appreciatively under her breath. It was a lovely restored historic building in a great location. Obviously, Scott was doing well for himself.
Kara hopped out of her truck and flipped down the back tailgate. She had just shifted the heavy planter closer when a set of muscular arms reached over and took it from her.
“Let me help you,” Scott said. “You know, I was planning on coming by later today to pick this up myself. You didn’t have to come all the way here to deliver it,” he added, and easily hoisted the planter up and began carrying it across the street. Kara quickly slammed the tailgate closed and trotted after him.
Scott placed the flowerpot on the sidewalk to the left of the law office’s entranceway and took a step back. It was a good fit; the planter was large enough that it wasn’t dwarfed by the oversize and ornately carved wooden and glass front door of the law office, but it was still slender enough that people could get by on the sidewalk without tripping over it.
“It looks nice,” said Scott.
Kara nodded in agreement. “It needs water, though,” she added. “Even though it’s a shade arrangement, you’ll need to water and fertilize it regularly, or it’ll get all spindly and possibly die on you.”
Scott frowned and rubbed a hand through his hair. “I don’t have much of a green thumb,” he said, smiling sheepishly down at her. “But I think I can remember to dump some water on it every day.”
“Not every day,” Kara corrected him. “If you do that, you’ll drown it. Just give it enough water so the roots get a good soaking. You’ll know how much to water by how heavy it feels.”
Scott looked over at her and raised an eyebrow.
“The right way to know if a planter has enough water is to lift it before you water it,” Kara explained. “The more often you lift it, the faster you’ll get to know how heavy this arrangement should feel if all the soil inside the pot is consistently moist. If it is, you don't water it. If it's not, water it slowly until all the soil in the pot is damp and water is running out the bottom. You need to make sure the roots of all the plants in the container are wet. The point is to ensure the soil at the core of the pot—where the plant’s roots are located—is thoroughly moist.”
Kara suddenly realized she was talking excessively and stopped her explanation as a blush crept up her cheeks. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I get a little carried away when I talk about plants. Occupational hazard, I guess.”
“No, don’t apologize. I enjoy listening to people talk about what they love,” Scott replied. “Passion makes ordinary things extraordinary. You should hear me go on about tort law. I get carried away talking about it all the time.”
“Tort law?” Now it was Kara’s turn to raise a questioning eyebrow.
“Yep, tort law. It’s my specialty. The laws of assault, battery, false arrest, false imprisonment, nuisance, trespassing, and intentional infliction of mental distress. Tort law.”
“And that’s interesting?” asked Kara. “I mean, I guess it sounds kind of intriguing, but I don’t know much about assault or battery. I suppose I’ve been lucky that way, really. But do we have a lot of these problems in Larkin Bay?” She glanced around them and considered it. “I always thought we were a safe and sleepy little town.”
“Larkin Bay might be,” admitted Scott. “That’s why I’ve been reading up on the writing of wills and studying the legalities of real estate transactions too.” A smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “Just in case I need to do that to pay the bills while I’m here.”
Kara laughed. “A funny lawyer,” she exclaimed. “I didn’t think such a thing existed.”
