The Bouquet List by Barbara Deleo Page B

forget all about it.
    She brushed crumbs from her orange silk batwing top. Get your act together. Feeling sorry and embarrassed wouldn’t cut the mustard anymore. If her hair hadn’t turned out, she’d have just tried again, wouldn’t she? If her nose stud wasn’t quite right, she’d fix it. Just because her first choice of tall, dark, and way-out-of-her-league didn’t want her for now, then she’d either have to keep on trying, or find someone who would. In the meantime she was practicing Italian for an hour every morning.
    Suddenly, the Skype alert jumped on her laptop screen. Her mom was calling from Greece. They’d arranged to speak at noon, time for Yasmin to mentally prepare herself for seeing her mother for the first time since she’d changed her look, and time for her meeting with Lane to be over. Should she answer it or just let it ring? The thought of her mother sitting nervously in front of a borrowed computer, maybe desperate to talk, was too much to bear and she clicked to make the connection.
    For a minute everything was fuzzy and then her mother’s face came into sharp focus.
    But it wasn’t just her mother, it was her aunt Maria, her uncle Thassos, an old woman she’d never seen before, and a couple of kids as well. They all let out a simultaneous shriek.
    “ Koukla !”
    “Mom! It’s so good to see you.” Yasmin laughed. “ Yiasou Theia , y iasou Theio !”
    There was more shrieking in Greek, and then everyone behind her mother waved.
    “So it’s true,” her mother said, both hands at her cheeks. “You really are home, and your hair really is purple.”
    “Yes, I’m home. How are you? Are you okay?”
    “I’m okay. I’m going to Eressos to see Yiayia soon so I had to call early. Why are you home? Your father seems to have no idea. All he could say was that you had purple hair and you were wearing men’s boots.”
    “Mom, I can’t talk right now. I have a meeting with Lane in a minute. Why don’t I call you back after you’ve seen Yiayia? Tomorrow morning your time.”
    “Ah, Lane. He’s such a good boy. ”
    “So, you’re okay about us working on some changes here?”
    “ Koukla , it’s not the renovations I care about, it’s the fact that your father won’t agree to having a proper life with me. He’s so tied up with vengeance for the O’Malleys and a need to prove himself that he has lost sight of our happiness. He can do whatever he likes with the Palace now. I have no interest in it. Your father thinks I’m coming home with him this week but I’m not going anywhere until he understands why I’m so upset.”
    “Morning.”
    Yasmin twisted to see Lane walk through the door. He wore dark pants and a checked shirt and tie, just as formal and together as ever. And just as always, her heart did a little leap when she saw him.
    “Is that Lane? Oh, where is he? Can I speak to him?”
    “Hey, Mrs. K.” Lane stepped into her mother’s line of vision, his face breaking into a broad smile.
    “Oh, look how handsome you are in your business clothes, Lane! I was only saying to Maria this morning how lucky Yasmin is to have a man like Lane Griffiths looking out for her.”
    “Yasmin’s the one who’s on top of things here, Mrs. K,” he said, throwing a smile at Yasmin. “She seems to know exactly what she wants.”
    “I like her new hair, do you?”
    “I’ll call you again tonight, Mom,” Yasmin said, desperate to get her mother off the call before she started asking Lane if he had a girlfriend.
    “Okay, koukla . Big kisses.”
    Yasmin tapped her mouse to close the window and turned back to look at Lane. It was only then that she noticed the person behind him.
    “Yasmin, this is Paulo. He renovated my SoHo restaurant a while back and still owes me a couple of favors, so he’s going to work with us on the refurbishment.”
    Paulo. Tall, dark, handsome. He was well-built and a little disheveled, his eyes hidden behind a pair of smart, dark glasses. He was