We’re two comets whose paths shouldn’t cross, but they’re going to regardless. I’m just waiting for the collision. I think we’re both going to see fucking stars when it happens.
“Why do you even care?” She’s turned away so that I can only see the side of her face, but it’s enough to catch the way she rolls her eyes. Snippy Elsie with her claws out is back. Whatever camaraderie or truce we’d forged over the last hour is gone, just like that.
“Good question,” I mutter.
Fuck if I know what’s going on anymore. All I know is that I met a pretty brunette with a flower in her hair on a sunny day in April, and nothing has been the same since.
Elsie glances over at me, then away. I don’t know what else to say, so I pick up what’s left of my burger and ask Sean what’s on his schedule for the rest of the week.
For the rest of the evening I try to ignore Elsie, who sits with her elbows tucked in tight to avoid bumping them against mine. It’s impossible to ignore her at the best of times, but then she has to go and smile at her friends, and I nearly stop breathing.
This smile is different from the small one she shot my way. It’s the one I spent the entire day peeking at in between tattoos, with eyes shining and mouth open as if she’s going to break into laughter at any moment. If it wouldn’t be completely insane, I’d pull out my phone and snap a picture, capture the way her face lights up like fucking sunshine.
Goddamn, I don’t know what I’m doing here. I’m in over my head and not sure whether to toss in the towel or keep trying. I wish I knew whatshewants me to do.
Does she actually dislike me, or is she just resisting whatever this pull is between us? I can’t help wondering if I’m someone she could actually be interested in, beyond the obvious chemistry between us,or if we’re so different that I don’t have a shot in hell. I know I’m probably the furthest thing from her type.
I’m all rough edges and harsh words most of the time. She deserves someone soft like she is, who doesn’t sayfuckforty times a day and hasn’t let childhood trauma keep him from something as simple as going to the beach.
But I can’t stop myself from wanting her anyway.
If she’s the flowers, I’m the thorns. There’s always a chance of getting hurt if you get too close.
I just have to convince her I’m worth the risk.
CHAPTER 14
Elsie
I’m working on a congratulatory bouquet for a new mother when one of the bells I installed above the doors alerts me to someone’s arrival. I watch as a dark blonde man enters the shop, glancing around quickly before shutting the door behind him. “Hey, Elsie,” he calls out.
“You’re here!” I drop my pruning shears on the table and hurry over to the friend I haven’t seen in about six months, when the class we were both enrolled in ended last December. I let him pull me into a hug and I squeeze him right back. I’m excited to see him, but I’m even more excited to have some help around here.
“This place is absolutely incredible,” he says, releasing his hold on me and looking around. I step back and give him a quick once-over, unable to help myself. Noah is always dressed to the nines, no matter the occasion. I’ve seen this man elbow-deep in soil with his crisp button-down rolled to the elbows and his hair perfectly gelled, even as he had bits of leaves and dirt stuck to his face. Today he’s wearinga baby blue and white checkered shirt with blue chinos rolled slightly at the ankles, landing just above his brown dress shoes.
“What do you think?” he asks, placing his hands on his hips. “Am I first day at a new job appropriate?”
“Handsome as ever,” I tell him. I liked most of the people who were in my floristry classes, but Noah and I just clicked right away. We became friends during the second week of class when we were attempting to design centerpieces for an event. I was going for a vertical design, with bunches of flowers around the base and longer stems in the middle. Mine ended up looking like a giant, floral penis, only I didn’t realize it until I was already in too deep – no pun intended.
When I met Noah’s eyes across the shared table we were working at, he started laughing so hard I thought he was going to crack a rib. I eventually forgot my embarrassment and joined in, and we’ve been friends ever since. We even went on a date once, right after the semester ended. We had a great time, but we both agreed we’re better off as friends.
“I’m so happy you’re here, and not only because I’ve missed you. I’m drowning here,” I admit.
I’d had a moment of reckoning on day three, when I realized I’d have to work twenty-four hours a day to manage all of the orders I’d taken so far. I needed some help, and fast. Noah was the first person I thought to call. It was a stroke of dumb luck that he happened to be in between jobs after the grocery store he’d been working at outside of Portland cut half of its floral department.
I’ve never had to hire someone before, but thanks to the HR experience I got while working for my dad, I at least know most of the ins and outs. Noah doesn’t officially start until Monday, but I invited him to stop by today to check out the shop and learn his way around.
“Well, boss lady,” he says, clapping his hands together. “I’m here to save the day. Show me the ropes.”
It’s Friday morning, which means that by some miracle, I’ve made it to the end of my first week in business. The week was straight out of my wildest dreams. The people of Port Myles have shown up for me beyond anything I expected, ordering flowers just because and booking me for events that don’t really require a florist, like kids’ birthday parties. I know it won’t always be like this, though. Once the excitement dies down we’ll get a better idea of what kind of steady business we’ll be able to maintain. For now, I’m just enjoying the ride.
And I’ll be able to enjoy it even more with Noah’s help.
I walk him through the shop, showing him the different arrangements on display, the cold storage where we keep all of the cut flowers and store arrangements overnight, the long counter in the back where we cash people out. We take a walk out back to the greenhouse and I’m reminded that I need to call Matt about the back door. On really warm days the door sticks and it takes my full body weight to get it open.
After Noah does a thorough inspection of everything growing and being stored in the greenhouse, we head back inside. I show him the small kitchen, which includes only the basics: a sink, fridge, microwave and coffee machine.
“I get a light roast from The Grind,” I explain, though he’s probably not familiar with my favorite coffee shop. “Let me know if there’s something else you’d prefer. I also have some flavored syrups, sugar and creamer in the fridge. If you have any preferences, text them to me and I’ll stock up.”
