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"All right. Let's do it."

Garret set the bags from the dress shop in the back of the car, and then settled into the passenger's side again.

"Where to next?" He asked as he buckled his seatbelt.

"You need a tux."

"I have a tux."

"Who just has a tux laying around?"

"I am the co-owner of a multi-million dollar company."

"Hm, I guess you are." It was funny how easy it was for her to forget that sometimes. To her, he was just Garret. Funny and smart and, apparently, a dog lover.

Sure, she'd seen him looking strong and severe in meetings, but what would he look like with his thick, dark hair all slicked back and fashioned? How would his broad shoulders look in a slim-fitting suit?

"I'll admit it doesn't get a lot of use," he shrugged. "Brooks handles most of that kind of thing. He's much more apt to...mingle."

"So I've heard." She turned the corner, thinking of all the times she'd seen Brook's face at the head of page six in the newspaper. It was always under a headline that went something like 'Millionaire Playboy Plays to Win' or 'Organic Chemistry founder Making Sparks.' Needless to say, there would always be some tiny blonde pinned to his arm in each shot.

"That notorious, is he?" Garret grinned.

"I'm just amazed you don't have more broken-hearted secretaries."

"All in good time." Garret shrugged and for a moment silence fell over the car, then he went on. "Tell me about your sister."

"No. I'm not doing twenty questions with you again. I refuse."

"Oh, come on. It's not like that. I'll have to meet her, won't I?"

"I guess you will. And when you do...Let's just say that, unlike me, Eliza doesn't have a problem standing up for herself."

"I see."

"To her detriment."

"Oh?"

"She's a bit of a free spirit. She goes where the wind takes her. For a while, she was working in a traveling craft fair as a glass blower. Before that, she made organic perfumes. Before that, she tried college but..." Rachael shook her head, thinking of the inevitable phone call that always ended and started every new phase of her sister's life.

"Hey, Rach, so, everything is cool. Nothing to worry about. But, well, [insert terrible thing here]."

Maybe she drove her boss's car into the lake or she and the dean of admissions didn't see eye to eye on expressionist art in the middle of the student union. Whatever the case, the Ford sisters were, both, walking disasters.

But for Eliza, that was in the best possible way.

"But what?" Garret prompted her as they stopped in front of the tiny flower shop in town.

Rachael tilted her mouth to the side, trying to figure out how best to describe her sister. "She's the best person you'll ever meet."

"I can't wait."

* * *

The door chimed behind them, but the two people behind the counter didn't look up. Instead, they seemed entrenched in focusing on each other and mumbling in angry, hushed voices.

As Garret approached, he thought he heard the younger of the two women say something like, "if you would just give it a chance, I'm telling you, Mr. Arnaldo would love to—"

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