Page 41 of Postmarked December

“Hi, this is Alex Branson from People’s Entertainment. I tried to call you a while ago, but we were somehow disconnected.”

Yeah. She’d hung up. She was about to again, but Nick’s easygoing nature came to mind. Until now, she’d bristled at the mention of a reporter. She didn’t need to anymore. She just had to tell them what she wanted and didn’t want. After seeing how Nick was with people, conversation with others felt easier.

Marion mouthed, “Is it him?”

Heather frowned and shook her head, then returned to the call. “Sorry we got disconnected. But now’s not really a good time.”

“When should I call you back?” he asked.

“You’d be wasting your time trying to talk to me. Toby and I made the decision to keep his life out of the spotlight and his death entirely private. I have no comment on the success of the album, if that’s what you’re after.”

“Maybe we could grab a coffee or something—off the record—at a better time.”

That was weird. Why would he want to do that? “I’ll think about it,” she said, although she already knew the answer. There was no way she’d meet a random journalist for coffee when she’d already told him she wasn’t talking. Maybe later, when she had more time, she could find out for curiosity’s sake. “Can you check back in a few days?”

“Of course. Have a nice evening.”

“Thank you. You too.” She hung up the phone and turned to an ogling Marion.

“Are you really going to talk to a reporter?”

“Definitely not. But I wanted to get him off the call so I could open the note.” She tossed her phone into her handbag and picked the envelope up off her lap, waving it in the air.

Marion clapped her hands in tiny taps. “This is all so exciting.”

With a giggle, Heather slipped her finger under the wax seal and pulled out a single sheet of paper. She read:

Roses are red, violets are blue, the florist who made your wedding bouquet has something for you. Hey, even I slip into a cliché now and then. I do my best. Anyway, ask for Rachel.

“If you want to go right now, I’m happy to ride along. What’s the name of the florist?” Marion was already pulling up her navigation app.

“It’s called Stemhouse.” The mental image of her bouquet of pink roses lying in the sand in her wedding video floated into her mind. That memory and the note made her feel as if Toby were in the car with them.

Marion tapped her screen at lightning speed. “Seventeen minutes away. What do you think?”

“Let’s do it.”

Marion pumped her fist in the air.

“Why are you so fired up?” Heather asked, amused.

“Because I might get another car chase out of this.”

Heather threw back her head and laughed. “Not with me driving. I drive like an old lady.”

Marion’s shoulders dropped. “True.”

They made the quiet drive to Stemhouse. Marion flicked through the radio stations while Heather slipped into thoughts about Nick. What was he doing right now? Probably walking Ophelia or having a late lunch at one of the little cafés, tapping away on his laptop while the dog slept at his feet. Could he be checking his phone to see if she’d called, deliberating on when was too early to call her? Given how quickly they’d hit it off, it felt as though he should have at least wanted to text her back to say he got her number. Perhaps he’d try to call tonight.

His warm smile and playful green eyes filled her mind. She’d never met anyone like him. He was so comfortable in his own skin, it was intoxicating. She only wished she could be that relaxed. But he had rubbed off on her. She’d handled the reporter from People’s Entertainment with ease when those calls used to rattle her.

She came to a stop outside Stemhouse. The elegant floral boutique stood on the outskirts of Nashville like a well-kept secret, its unimposing facade softened by climbing greenery.

They got out of the car and went inside, the little bells on the door jingling to announce their entrance.

A woman came from the back and greeted them. “Let me know if you’re looking for anything special.”

“Thank you,” Heather returned. She didn’t want to rush up to the counter just yet. Instead, she took her time, drinking in the Christmas cheer of the place.