Page 34 of Tempest’s Torment

"The other side."

She tries again, missing it completely.

"Oh, for God's sake." I reach over and brush the pollen off her nose with my thumb. "There."

She looks at me for a second before rolling her eyes. "I was wondering why you were looking at me like that."

"You looked ridiculous."

"I looked beautiful."

"You looked like you'd face-planted into a flower bed."

She laughs, and I laugh with her, the sound stays with me long after the memory fades.

My chest tightens, not because it hurts, but because I'd forgotten that morning. I'd forgotten that laugh.

"Lilah." Cara's voice pulls me back. I blink. She's standing beside me. "I've got those."

I shake my head as I swallow back the memory. "I'm okay."

"I know." She gently takes the bucket from my hands. "I've got more room over here." It's a terrible excuse; we both know it.

I let her take them anyway. She carries the sunflowers to the other end of the workbench and starts stripping the leaves without another word. I turn back to the white roses waiting for me and notice that my hands aren't shaking.

The afternoon passes in a blur. I finish the delivery confirmations while Louise talks a corporate client through what they mean by impactful but not showy. The call lasts the better part of twenty minutes before they finally settle on a design.

She hangs up the phone and shakes her head.

"They never know what they want."

"They know what they don't want."

"That's half the battle."

She slides the order across the workbench toward me. "Do you think you can make this look like what we just promised?"

I glance over the notes and nod. "I can."

"I know," she says it so matter-of-factly that it catches me off guard, and then she picks up another invoice as though she hasn't said anything worth thinking about.

The rest of the shift passes without much happening. By five, Louise heads home, leaving Cara and me to close up.

I grab the broom and start sweeping the back room once six o’clock hits.

"You can leave that." I glance over my shoulder and see that Cara's already got her coat on.

"I've nearly finished."

She looks at the floor. "You've barely started."

I grin. "I was getting there."

She walks over, takes the broom from my hands, and starts sweeping.

"Cara..."

"Go home," she tells me.