“What’s wrong with you?Mr.Perfect asked you out or something?”
Rylyn said it like she could sense the unease rolling off me.Did I look that out of sorts?I certainly felt out of sorts.
Though I didn’t know why.It was Owen, for Pete’s sake.
“Yes,” I said absently.
Rylyn blinked, surprised that her sarcasm-laced barb was true.“You said yes, right?You’d be crazy not to say yes.”
There was a bit of longing in the girl’s voice.
“I didn’t say yes.Or no.”
She sucked in a breath.“Wow.You said nothing?Ouch.Poor guy.”She started toward the back of the shop.“Delivery is here.I’ll get it.Your turn to man the front.”
And then she was gone leaving me to contemplate the consequences of my non-answer—and why something as simple as dinner felt so complicated.
I shoved away the thoughts.I had work to do and that didn’t include pining away for my high school crush.
Which I seriously thought I was over.
Thank goodness a customer came in to distract me.Mr.Evans was a haggard old man with a squint and frizzy gray hair about his head.And though he looked like Scrooge’s brother on his best day, he was a kind soul.
“Well, I’ll be.Look who it is!”
“Hi, Mr.Evans.”I couldn’t stop the eruption of a smile.“How are you?”
“Come here and let me hug your neck, girl.”He waved me around the counter.
Laughing, I walked around the counter to hug him.He smelled like old wood.Then he held me at arm’s length to get a good look at me.Mr.Evans taught World History at the high school but had long since retired.Owen and I were both in his class when we were juniors.
“Heard you were back,” he said with a nod.“Thought it was a story.”
“Not a story, Mr.Evans.I’m back.”
He leaned in close.“Say, sorry to hear about Alice, God rest her.She was a real gem.”
“She was.”I swallowed hard, then steered the conversation back to business.If not, he’d stand there all day and chat.“What can I do for you?”
“It’s my anniversary.Fifty years!Can you believe it?”He laughed and scratched at the stubble on his chin.“Hard to believe the old girl put up with me for so long.”
“Well, then.Let’s make Mrs.Evans something special,” I said, reaching for the order book.
“Nah, don’t go to any trouble.I know what she likes.”He shuffled to the display case and picked up a white vase full of vibrant stargazer lilies.
He prattled on about nonsense as I rang him up and he paid in cash—a hundred-dollar bill, of all things.I opened the cash drawer to give him change.But I had to lift the tray to get to the extra twenties.When I did, I froze.
A scrap of paper was nestled under the bills, the edge peeking out.The familiar handwriting hit me cold in the chest.
Mr.Evans didn’t notice as he continued to talk about the latest shenanigans with his chickens.
I quickly counted out the change and handed him the bills, the coins, and the receipt.I wanted to shoo him out of the shop so I could investigate that paper closer.
“Have a great day, Mr.Evans, and congrats again,” I said warmly, but my heart was racing like it was about to beat out of my chest.
He started to leave but then paused at the door and turned back.“Whatever happened with you and that Owen McAllister?Nice, good-looking kid.”
I flushed.“Happened?”
