Read the book: «Blossoms Of Love»

To all the loyal volunteers who show up year after year to help decorate the floats for the Rose Parade. They put in long hours, and the rewards are seeing their chosen floats drive down Colorado Boulevard. Who else can say, “I helped decorate that float”?

Acknowledgments

Jackie: For Miriam, because she puts up with me even though she doesn’t have regular mayonnaise in the house.

Miriam: For Jackie. I like mayo made with olive oil. It’s healthy and doesn’t taste as nasty as she says.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Dear Reader

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Acknowledgments

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Copyright

Prologue

Daniel Torres sat in his parents’ large family room, his brothers situated around him, along with his best friend, Logan Pierce. The room had been the center of his life since birth, large enough to accommodate Daniel, his four brothers and two sisters. Today, as was tradition, they were all there, except for Nina, who, with her new husband, had decided to stay in Reno. His other sister, Lola, was sick and comfortably ensconced in her childhood bedroom so their mom could take care of her.

As a child, Daniel and his friends used to camp out in this room, and he had fond memories of making popcorn, sharing a stolen beer and watching movies. These days it looked different. Several years ago, his parents installed a whole-wall entertainment system with a superlarge TV, surround sound and two rows of home-theater recliners. Off to one side was a tiny galley kitchen, where his mother bustled about, making sure everyone had enough food. As though anyone would starve in this house.

Now the group sat in the leather recliners watching as the Rose Parade wound its way down Colorado Boulevard. The watching of the Rose Parade had been a Torres tradition ever since his parents had sponsored a float years ago.

Logan nudged Daniel’s elbow. “What are we competing on this year?”

Daniel wasn’t quite certain how they’d gotten into this yearly competition, but somehow it had grown into the loser donating $100,000 to the winner’s favorite charity. “No more jumping frogs, rolling cheese wheels or fighting thumbs.”

“You want something serious this time?” Logan’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.

Daniel thought about that for a moment. “Not serious, but not weird.” Logan excelled in weird. That was part of the former pro football player’s nightly newscast, along with sports. Daniel had his own show—a morning edition that was more entertainment than news.

“What do you consider not serious, but not weird?” Logan took a long drink of his morning coffee. He was a night owl, while Daniel was usually up by four in the morning and at the station by four thirty to get ready for his show.

“A football game is serious. Anything that involves Spam is weird.” The first float appeared on the screen with a banner underneath it claiming it was the winner of the Sweepstakes Trophy. “I’ve got an idea. Let’s sponsor a float for the Rose Parade.”

Daniel looked at his friend, once again struck by their different appearances. Logan looked like the typical California surfer with his sun-bleached blond hair, deep-set blue eyes and muscular body. Daniel was the product of his black Brazilian father whose own father emigrated from Bermuda and a mother whose ancestry was unknown. His eyes were a deep amber, his skin the color of his favorite mocha Frappuccino, and he was more lean and slender than muscular.

Logan pointed at the screen. “You mean a fancy float like that? With flowers?”

“Why not?”

“What would be the stakes?”

“The usual—your charity or mine.”

Daniel had sponsored the Wounded Warrior Project for several years. Logan supported the American Red Cross. “We have to win a trophy.”

“There are like twenty trophies,” Logan said.

“The Sweepstakes is the most prestigious,” Nicholas, Daniel’s fraternal twin brother, put in.

“I think you should try for the Princesses’ Trophy. It’s for the most beautiful float,” Sebastian, another brother, threw out.

“Remember that dog pool a couple of years ago? That float had everything.” Nicholas’s eyes glazed over with the memory. He loved animals and would adopt every stray he found if he didn’t have such a demanding job as a choreographer for Broadway musicals. He’d recently been asked to bring his talents back to Los Angeles for a Dancing with the Stars clone.

“I think you should try for the Bob Hope Humor Trophy. That’s my favorite,” Matteus said. He was the only Torres who had chosen to move away from the family’s heritage and into a profession outside the entertainment industry. He was a cop in West Hollywood.

Everyone started to weigh in on their preferences. Sebastian, the eldest Torres brother, supported the Governor’s Trophy. Even as he watched TV, his flexible magician’s fingers shuffled a deck of cards. He never went anywhere without them, it seemed to Daniel, who was used to Sebastian’s constant card tricks.

“I was joking about the float,” Daniel said when the arguments wound down.

“But I like it,” Logan said. “It’s different. It’s splashy. We could have a ton of fun with this.”

Daniel watched the TV for a few moments, admiring the different floats. His thoughts churned and his imagination went into overdrive. He could really promote this, getting a lot of mileage for their charities. His station would probably contribute something, and, because their respective audiences seemed to enjoy their lighthearted competition, they could set up an independent account for private donations, as well.

“Okay,” Daniel finally said. “We can do this.”

Logan punched his arm. “Sure we can.”

Daniel got up to fix himself another cup of coffee and snagged a cookie off the plate his mother had just refilled. Ideas spun in his head. While he was great with promotion ideas, he didn’t know anything about floats.

“Is that a glint of panic in your eyes?” Manny Torres, Daniel’s father, said with a smile.

“What do I know about floats?” Daniel asked as he poured cream into his coffee.

“Not a thing.”

“How am I going to pull this off? Three years in a row, I’ve lost this competition with Logan. Look at him. He’s gloating. In his head, I’ve already written a check to his charity.”

Manny put a hand on Daniel’s arm. “Son, there are times in a man’s life, no matter how grown he is, when he needs to listen to his papa.”

Daniel studied his father’s face. “You have a guy?”

“Yes.” Manny’s smile grew. “Consider it done.”

“What about Logan?”

Manny glanced at Logan, fondness in his eyes. “I love Logan as though he was my own, but you come first.”

Logan’s head was bent over his iPhone, his fingers flying over the touch screen. He looked up and glanced back at Daniel. “Did you know there are a number of companies who do nothing but build floats for the Rose Parade?”

Daniel shook his head. “I had no idea.”

Logan waved his phone. “May the best man win.” He put his phone to his ear and got up, walking away to a quieter corner. “I know it’s New Year’s Day, but I need you to get me an appointment on the fourth with Steinmen and Sons.” He paused, listening, no doubt, to his assistant, who seemed to be on call 24/7. “They build floats.”

Manny nudged Daniel and gave him a thumbs-up sign. “Don’t worry, son. Tomorrow, all will be done.”

Chapter 1

Daniel hadn’t known what he was getting himself into when he suggested he and Logan sponsor floats in the Rose Parade. He’d thought it would be a simple procedure and the magic would happen on its own. But it was one decision after another. How long did he want the float to be? How high? What colors? Which theme? Who, what, where, when, why and how had turned into dozens of meetings despite hiring a company that specialized in float design. Most of his on-air life was taken care of for him. But the decision to sponsor a float had absorbed his off-screen life.

And now, ten months later, the final product was on the verge of emerging.

He sat on a chair in the interview area of the set, about to unveil the design to his viewing audience. The last six weeks had been the most intense, and now Courtland Float Designs had sent a representative to his show who would be giving weekly updates leading up to the parade.

“My special guest today,” Daniel said, “is Miss Greer Courtland.” He’d met her father for their initial meetings, but he hadn’t met the woman who’d actually designed the float. He stood and clapped his hands.

The pretty woman appeared on the edge of the stage, looking a little nervous. She smiled at him, and he beckoned her forward. She walked across the set almost daintily.

Greer Courtland was a petite woman, maybe five foot four, with pixie-cut hair. She wore a beige silk sheath that clung to her beautiful curves. Daniel couldn’t help the immediate attraction he felt to her. Her skin was a lovely, warm nutmeg. Dark brown eyes, almost black, dominated her oval face. Her lips were full and inviting. Too inviting. Daniel could hardly look away from her. She was, in a word, exquisite.

“Welcome to my show,” Daniel said, waiting for her to sit.

She perched on the edge of the chair for a second before sliding back and crossing her long, slender legs. “Thank you for inviting me.” Her voice was low and sensual.

“So, you designed the float.” He held up the final drawing showing his choice. The float consisted of a caterpillar, then a chrysalis and finally several full monarch butterflies at the rear to indicate the year’s theme, A Celebration of Life.

She nodded. “I basically work on the engineering to make sure everything runs, twirls and swirls properly and nothing breaks down on Colorado Boulevard.”

The audience laughed in approval.

“Let’s talk a little about you.” He glanced down at the notecards on the small table between them. “You have a degree in structural engineering from Cal Poly Pomona, and you’ve been designing floats since you were...sixteen.” Now, that was impressive. Smart as well as beautiful. He liked that.

“My parents started Courtland Float Designs when I was six years old, and they built it up into what it is today.”

“I’m totally fascinated by your family business. You have made a business out of designing floats for the Rose Parade.” He felt nothing but awe for her and her family. Who knew anyone could make a business out of parade floats?

“Not just the Rose Parade,” Greer said, leaning forward a bit. “We’ve designed floats for the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade, Mardi Gras in New Orleans and Carnival in Rio.”

“You’ve been to Rio. Tell me about Rio.”

She grinned coyly at him. “Sorry, no can do. What happens in Rio stays in Rio.”

Oh, he had to get the answer to that question. He’d been to Rio a time or two himself. “I’m disappointed you won’t share.”

Her grin widened. “Rules are rules.”

He was very captivated by her. He leaned forward and caught a faint scent of her perfume—a warm vanilla musk with an underlying note of lemon. “I understand you were a Rose Queen.”

“Yes, during my senior year in high school. I had a great time that year.”

“A Cal Poly graduate and a Rose Queen. You’re smart and beautiful. What was the hardest part of being the Rose Queen?”

“Number one on the list was how not to look cold. You could be cold, but you could not look like it. Number two was the wave.” She held up her hand and started doing the wave.

“You look like the Queen of England.”

“We had classes. The wave is sort of like screwing in a lightbulb.”

She had the best dimple right next to her mouth when she smiled. The dimple transformed her face, and his gaze was drawn to it. He had a sudden urge to lick that dimple and kiss it. He shook it off and focused on his interview. “What is the hardest part of building a float?”

“Designing something that works and is still beautiful within the boundaries of the rules and regulations of the parade. There’s a lot to balance with a float. You have to consider the weight, height and length. The only thing that stays the same every year is the route. You know where all the turns are.” Her hands fluttered as she talked, echoing her excitement and passion.

A woman with passion. He could work with that. “I can see you love what you do.”

“I get to play in fantasyland all year long, so why not?” Her words came out as a sigh.

“Let’s talk a bit about the first step toward getting a float into the parade.” When he’d first decided to sponsor a float, he’d had a sharp learning curve.

She sat back, her face taking on a serious look. “The theme for the next year is announced the day after the parade. Once you have the theme, the first step is to create a design. Each designer submits to the parade committee two designs for each float they are commissioned to create. Once the design is approved, we move on to materials and construction.”

“Sounds nerve-racking,” Daniel said.

She nodded. “You’d think that after making floats for so many years, it would be easy, but it’s not. It’s like a first date over and over again. You just want to make sure you do everything right and be your best. And hope your underslip doesn’t show.”

The audience roared with laughter.

Daniel nodded in agreement. He understood being the best. At a signal from the director, he wrapped up this week’s interview. “Thank you, Miss Courtland.” He turned to the camera. “We’ll take a commercial break, and when we come back—weather and traffic.” The camera went dark and Daniel stood.

Greer stood with him. “Is it true you and your friend Logan Pierce have a bet on who is going to win the Sweepstakes Trophy?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.”

“You sound disappointed. A little friendly competition never hurts anyone. You compete with all the other floats.”

“I compete with myself. I have seven designs in the parade this year.”

Was that disappointing? It almost felt like she was cheating on him before the first date. Because if he had anything to say about it, there would be a date.

“I don’t know what to say. I’ve never had to share a woman before. It feels like you’re cheating on me.”

She burst into laughter. “Are you serious?”

“I am. I thought I was your one and only.”

“No.” She shook her head. “My babies have to eat.”

The audience roared with laughter. Daniel waved at them. “You have children.” She was married! Darn. He hadn’t seen that coming.

“Yes.”

“Are you married?”

“No.”

“I’m a little confused here.”

“No, my children are the four-legged kind. Though one of them has only three legs. I designed a float for the Humane Society a couple of years ago and couldn’t resist adopting them.”

Suddenly he realized she was teasing him. “I’m a dog person.”

“I have two dogs and a cat. I’m always looking to add to the family.”

His mother would love her. She was smart, beautiful and kind.

“Do you cook?”

She frowned. “What does that have to do with float design?”

“Just some personal information.”

“I like to cook, but I don’t always have time.”

He knew that feeling. If not for his parents occasionally stocking his freezer, he’d have been eating takeout every night of the week. Now in their second careers, his parents owned a restaurant, so the food was always good.

“Well, thank you for coming today. I think the audience loved it,” he said. “I look forward to seeing you next week and hearing your report.”

“I’ll be here.”

He walked her off the set just as the camera came live again, but it was pointed at Jennifer, the meteorologist. He didn’t have to be back to his desk for another four minutes, and for some reason, he wanted to spend those minutes just watching Greer Courtland walk down the hall.

He waved, and an intern came to escort her out.

Once she was out of sight, he turned back to his desk to get ready for his next segment. But her sexy scent remained in his head for the rest of his day. As did the sound of her husky laughter.

* * *

As Greer drove back to her office, she couldn’t keep her mind off her handsome host. Daniel Torres was not what she’d expected.

She hadn’t wanted to go on his show, but her parents had appointed her. She had been so nervous she feared she’d stutter her way through the segment. She didn’t want to embarrass her family, but that sexy hunk of man threw her for a bit of a loop. Never a fan of the unexpected, she almost turned into a puddle of silence when she’d laid eyes on him in person.

As she walked into her office, her sister Rachel peeked in at her and grinned. “We watched the show. You did great. Mom was really impressed.”

Greer shrugged. “I tried.”

“Is he as handsome in person as he is on the screen?”

“You mean Daniel Torres?” She fanned her face. “Oh yes, he is.” She had to admit she liked what she’d seen. “He certainly seemed interested in his float.” Though she was a little confused by this competition with his friend. Not that she wasn’t a competitive person. She’d had to be at Cal Poly. But this contest had so many random factors. What would happen if neither one took the Sweepstakes Trophy? Or if each won a trophy in a different category? The logistics made her head spin. She was always good about designing floats that could take different trophies. She liked to win, and trophies equaled money in the bank. The float business might have been about making pretty things, but she had to make pretty things that won the shinies.

“Interested in his float? I think he was more interested in you,” Rachel said with a sly smile.

A girl could hope. “Don’t be absurd. You read the tabloids. That man goes through starlets like they’re candy.”

“I don’t know. If he was in love with any of the starlets, don’t you think he’d have gotten married by now?”

“Look at George Clooney. He played the field for decades. Daniel Torres has twenty years to go before he finds his forever wife.”

Rachel laughed. “You don’t have a romantic bone in your body.”

Greer shook her head. “I save all my romance for my floats.”

“Yes, and I’m sure they keep you very warm at night.”

“Scooter, Pip and Roscoe are very good at keeping my feet warm at night.” She didn’t need a man. In fact, she didn’t think she wanted one on a permanent basis.

“By the way, Chelsea wants you to come over to the warehouse,” Rachel told her. “She’s testing the hydraulics on Daniel’s float.”

“I’m on my way.”

* * *

The warehouse, where the floats were built before being moved to the parking lot of the Rose Bowl for final prep the week before the parade, was a block away from Greer’s office in an industrial park. Her sister Chelsea stood next to Daniel’s float, a clipboard in hand.

The design presented some height challenges. Floats had to fit underneath the seventeen-foot-high Sierra Madre/I-210 freeway overpass. Anything higher than that had to be lowered by hydraulics in mere seconds. Daniel’s final design featured several monarch butterflies flying high off into the sky.

“Good, you’re here,” Chelsea said.

The skeleton of the float looked eerie without any of the flowers that would be added the final week before the parade. It was all welded steel and covered in chicken wire and plastic.

Other similarly staged floats surrounded Daniel’s. A welder sat on the chassis of the adjacent one, his welder spitting fire.

“I enjoyed the show this morning,” Chelsea said.

“I wanted Mom and Dad to send you.” Greer thought Chelsea was the most beautiful of all of them. She was tall and willowy with a dancer’s grace, though at the moment she just looked tired. Her long hair had been pulled into a scrunchie, but half of it was out and floated around her head like a halo.

“I’m too busy.” Chelsea handled quality control. Her job was to make sure everything worked right and looked right, down to the smallest detail. “You’re in the consulting phase now and can be spared.”

“All I have left is to start gluing on flowers.” And other organic material. Though flowers were the main starting point for any float, many areas were covered in seeds and grasses to add texture to the overall design.

“I was checking the hydraulics,” Chelsea continued, “and I wanted you to watch.” She waved at a man half-hidden in a well in the chassis. He waved back, and slowly the butterflies on the rear of the float began to descend.

Before she could comment, Greer’s phone rang. “Hello?”

“Miss Greer Courtland? My name is Logan Pierce.”

“Excuse me,” Greer said, having a hard time hearing over the noise of the welder. She stepped toward the back door open to the parking lot.

“This is Logan Pierce,” he repeated. “I saw you on Daniel’s show this morning. I was wondering if we could meet.”

“Why?” His own float was being built by another company.

“I’ve never had a woman ask me why I wanted to take her out to dinner.”

“I’m asking.” She tried to keep the suspicion out of her voice.

“I watched your interview with Daniel, and you were pretty funny. I want to get to know you.”

She paused. “How did you get my phone number?” She never gave it to people she didn’t know.

“My connections are staggering,” he responded with a wry chuckle.

“Really. How did you get my number?”

She could hear the smile in his voice. “I have a personal assistant who would make the CIA, FBI and NSA weep with envy.”

“I see.” Should she meet with him? She was deeply curious about the rivalry between the two men, and Daniel’s answers this morning hadn’t satisfied her curiosity. Maybe Logan’s would. “I thought you were in New York.”

“I’m visiting family for Thanksgiving. My parents still live in Santa Monica.”

Meeting him wouldn’t hurt, she supposed. “Where do you want to meet?”

“How about dinner at Craig’s? I’ll pick you up, say around 6:30.”

He sounded pleasant enough, but since he was based in New York, she didn’t know anything about Logan Pierce.

“No. I’ll meet you there.” She wasn’t about to put herself in a spot she couldn’t get out of.

“I’ll send a car for you.”

“I’ll drive myself.” She didn’t want to be dependent on this man when she didn’t know him from Adam. If she wanted to leave, she wanted to be able to do so on her terms.

He laughed, a rich, vibrant sound. “Seven, then, at Craig’s.”

“Okay,” she said before she ended the call. Craig’s! That was pretty classy. Celebrities were routinely spotted there, she thought as she turned to find Chelsea watching her. “You’ll never guess who that was.”

“Daniel Torres asking you out to dinner.”

“Close. His friend and float competitor, Logan Pierce.”

Chelsea’s eyebrows rose. “You’re kidding.”

“No. I’m meeting him at Craig’s tonight.”

Chelsea’s eyes went wide. “That’s the new in place.”

“You watch too much TMZ.”

Chelsea punched Greer on the arm. “This is so exciting. You’d better bring home a doggie bag. For me, not the dog.”

She laughed. “I’ll try to remember.”

After giving her approval on the hydraulics, Greer headed back to her office, till her father stopped her in the hallway.

“Meeting.” Roman Courtland was a man of few words.

She followed him into his large corner office overlooking the industrial park. Every available inch of wall space was covered with photos of the award-winning floats by Courtland Floats Designs, along with family photos.

Her mother stood at the window, a bottle of water in one hand. Tall and slim, Virginia Courtland wore a cream-colored pantsuit with a colorful Hermes scarf about her neck. She’d styled her black hair into a sleek French roll that emphasized her sharply defined cheekbones. She’d been born in Los Angeles after her parents had migrated from Bermuda nearly sixty years ago. Virginia’s father had been an actor with minor parts in nearly a hundred films. He’d made a good living but never attained a higher status than character actor.

Greer’s father, Roman, was of medium height with a thick head of curly black hair threaded with gray. He wore jeans and a black sweater with the sleeves pushed up. Like Virginia, he was LA-born, but his family had been in Los Angeles since the early 1800s. His ancestors had managed to escape from slavery in Georgia and thought to make a place for themselves in Spanish-held California. His two-times great-grandfather had been Native American, and the Nez Perce heritage showed in his slightly hooked nose and wide-spaced eyes.

Roman looked tired. These last few weeks before the parade were the most intense and stressful. All the labor of the last ten months culminated in round-the-clock shifts as floats were checked for any last-minute issues before heading to the staging tent set up on the Rose Bowl parking lot. There, hundreds of volunteers needed to finish the floral decoration on time.

Greer grabbed a bottle of water from the undercounter fridge behind her father’s desk and sat down on the sofa. “I think this morning’s interview went well.”

Her mother nodded as she took a seat in one of the chairs. “He seemed to ask you a lot of personal questions.”