“Lay off the interrogation. If I want to bring someone tarts, let me bring them tarts.”
I look at him. I see the stubborn set of his jaw. I know this isn’t over. I know that wherever he went, whoever he saw, it has already begun.
But I also know that I can’t stop it. Not by yelling. Not by quoting rules.
“Bien,” I say, turning back to my stock. “Bring your tarts. Just make sure you’re back in time for service.”
Eli smiles, a small, secret smile. “I will.”
I pick up my spoon and stir the pot. The liquid is dark and rich, swirling with the possibilities of what we’re building.
But as I watch the steam rise, I can’t help but feel that the real storm hasn’t even hit us yet.
CHAPTER TEN
Amber
The clockon the wall ticks past 10:00 p.m., the second hand mocking me with every rotation. I am trapped in a floral purgatory.
The bride—a sweet but incredibly indecisive woman named Clara—has been here since seven o’clock.
“No, not the white hydrangeas,” Clara says for the third time, pacing the small aisle. “They’re too… bridal. I want something more rustic. But nottoorustic. You know?”
“I know,” I assure her, my smile feeling tight and stretched across my face. “What if we mix in some of the silver dollar eucalyptus? It adds that nice silvery gray tone without being too farm-heavy.”
She bites her lip, staring at the arrangement on the counter. “Maybe. But what about the succulents? Are they too trendy? My mother says succulents are a 2018 trend.”
My phone buzzes in my pocket. I know who it is. I ignore it, trying to focus on the woman in front of me.
The buzzing stops, then starts again a moment later.
“Do you mind if I grab that?” I ask Clara.
“Oh, of course! Go ahead.” She waves a hand dismissively.
I step into the back room, exhaling a breath that feels like I’ve been holding it for three hours. I swipe the screen.
“Norah? Hey.”
“Amber?” Norah’s tone is half-concerned, half-amused. “Are you still at the shop? Jude said he drove past and the lights were on.”
“Yeah. I’m still here. Clara is… having a hard time committing.”
“It’s almost ten, Amber,” she says. “Do you want me to send Jude and Ryker over? They can come close up for you so you can get home.”
I look through the doorway at Clara, who is currently sniffing a bouquet of dried lavender. “No, it’s okay. I’m almost done. I think we’re finally narrowing it down to the original choice she made three hours ago.”
“Are you sure? Because they are literally putting on their shoes right now.”
“I’m sure. I don’t want to drag them out in the cold.”
“Okay. But call me if you change your mind.” She pauses. “Are you okay?”
“Just a little tired,” I mutter, rubbing my temples. “But I’ll be home as soon as I can.”
“Okay, babe. Do you want to say goodnight to Maisie? She’s still up, waiting for you.”
“Please.”
