Cormac’s an interesting guy.
Cormac may have givenme weeds, technically speaking, but when I get home, I stick them in a mason jar with some water.
Given my checkered history with plants, they probably won’t last more than a day or two, but…I want them to last for as long as they can. I feel a little effervescent whenever I look at them. And, to my shock and concern, I research how to press flowers so I can keep them even after they begin to wilt.
That effervescent feeling is still with me when I go to bed that night—and at midnight when I wake up all fired up. For the first time in a long while, I feel inspired to make a new ginger beer.
Pear, infused with wildflowers.
The next day at the brewery, I drag José into my office to share my plan. He seems distracted, but he nods along.
“Whatever you think, Nora. You’re the creative one. You make it, and we’ll figure out how to sell it.”
I nod, because I have a feeling about this one?—
The flavor’s going to dance. People will fall in love with it. They’ll line up at our doors just to get a taste of it.
I tell him so, and he snorts. “You really are in love.”
“No, I’m not,” I gasp, swatting his hand.
He gives me a WTF look, and I feel like an idiot. Maybe I’m not such a good liar after all. I’msupposedto be in love.
“I mean…yeah…I guess. But it’s new. I don’t want to put labels on it yet.”
“Uh-huh.” Suspicion has slid into his gaze. I can tell he wants to throw around words like fake and pretend, but blessedly he doesn’t. Instead, he says, “Pansy can’t do her presentation for P—she can’t be here on Wednesday.”
“You can’t bring yourself to say Pads by Pansy, can you?”
He fights a smile, then lifts his palms. “Look…she didn’t consult me on the name, all right? I’ve tried to float other options, but she’s set on it.”
I have at least thirty jokes I’d like to make about the name of her business. He’s clearly expecting me to do that, though, so I choose the road less traveled.
“So,” I say, hoping I sound sympathetic. “Is Pansy sick or something? Is that why she’s not coming?”
I obviously don’t want to listen to her presentation, and I strongly suspect José doesn’t want to either. In fact, I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if he were behind this change in plans. That being said, I need to put some steam into Project Pansy. The last thing José needs is to plan a whole wedding to this woman, only for her to run off into the sunset—the same way she’s apparently done twice before.
“Just a little under the weather. We’re still up for going out on Thursday night. We’re looking forward to it.”
“Yeah,” I say sweetly. “So arewe.”
“What are you going to call this ginger beer, anyway?”
I tap the surface of the desk with my fingertips. “I don’t know, but I’m sure it’ll come to me.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CORMAC
THE FAIRY GODMOTHERS GROUP CHAT
Dottie: Don’t worry, dear boy. It will all go splendidly well.
Dottie: Ann thinks so too.
Ann: Remember to show off those forearms.
Ann: And open the damn door for her.
