“For your kind words and for stepping in,” she says. “I saw it. You didn’t have to do that.”
I shrug. “Felt automatic.”
Her gaze lingers on me then—longer than before. Warmer. Like she’s seeing something new.
There’s a hitch in my chest that floods me with electricity. Ididn’t realize we’d been moving like magnets, so that we’re now only a few inches away from one another. Up close, she’s…wow. Not just pretty—though she absolutely is—but she’s also stunning. In the way that I’m beginning to see how her insides match the outsides, even if it does come in a grumpy little package. She’s strong in a way that doesn’t need to announce itself.
She smiles, just a little, and the world tilts. Oh yeah.
I’m in trouble.
“Ready to repot a snake plant?” she asks, no clue of the car crash happening inside my brain at this moment.
“Yeah,” I say, even though what I really mean isI’m ready for whatever this is.
And somehow, I know. This is only the beginning.
CHAPTER 8
JULIETTE
Social media. Unbelievable. It’s not even been forty-eight hours since we put up the first post and the bell over the door won’t stop ringing.
It’s not the polite, one-customer-at-a-time ding it usually is. It’s a full-blown doorbell panic attack. Ding-ding-ding, like the shop itself is trying to tell me we have a situation.
“I promise,” I say, holding up a glossy green leaf to the woman in front of me, “your snake plant is not mad at you. It just likes being ignored. Think of it as the plant version of a mysterious introvert.”
She squints at it. “So Idon’twater it every day?”
“Absolutely not. If you water this every day, it will file a restraining order.”
That earns a laugh, which is good, because there are three more people hovering behind her, all clutching their phones like they’re waiting for backstage passes.
“Okay,” she says, nodding. “Low water. Bright light. No emotional neediness.”
“Exactly,” I say. “You already speak its love language.”
As soon as she leaves, another woman slides forward, eyes darting around the shop. “Um…is Plant Daddy here today?”
I choke on my own air.
“Pardon?”
“You know,” she says, waggling her phone. “The hockey guy? From the video?”
Oh, I know the video she speaks of….and thanks to the hockey guy, and the little video we filmed, my bell is now in grave danger of dinging its last ding today from overuse alone. But, I don’t care. I’ll happily buy a new bell for that door if we stay this busy.
Honestly, I never would have thought that having Sawyer with his sleeves rolled up, digging in some dirt and explaining how to repot a snake plant would have caused this much traction. However, I guess when you film your bit with the confidence of a man who not only understands chlorophyll, but also drinks it for breakfast, it does something to the people who see it. They believe it and feel like if he’s got that plant, then they want it, too.
The funny thing? After we filmed it, I froze. I wasn’t going to put the video up. Doing so was going to either bring the people in, or fall flat like other ad campaigns and promos I’d tried before. Of course, Mr. Sunshine wasn’t having any of that. He’d texted me yesterday morning before he left for his away games, threatening to sic his PR people on me and the store if I didn’t get it up. Reluctantly, I hit post and closed my eyes. Crossing my fingers felt too trite.
Now, apparently with the helpful charm of Sawyer, the entire city of Alexandria has decided they desperately need a snake plant—and possibly a charming professional athlete to hand it to them.
“Plant Daddy is on the road,” I say wryly, trying not to think about the way his smile had gone crooked when Theo asked him the other day if he thinks plants get lonely. “Away games.”
A dramatic sigh ripples through the small crowd. Which consists mostly of women. Women wearing Dominion logos on everything. Shirts, sweatshirts, of course, but there’s a womannear the ficus section holding a dog that’s got a Dominion bandana wrapped around his little neck. We’ve become the literal green room for Dominion fans.
“Well.” From behind the counter, Charlie clears his throat. “I am also a daddy of plants.”
