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Shelton Krause was… he was attractive. Tall, handsome, with all his teeth. You’d be surprised how that wasn’t always the case. We’d gone to school together, and I knew he had a crush on me, but at the time I was dating Ozzie Palmer on and off. And when we were off, men were too afraid to approach me because they knew if word got back to Oz there would be a fight. I’d been single for a long time, but I think guys were still traumatized from the fear of the six-five, three-hundred-and-thirty-pound Oz coming around looking to tussle.

“What did he say?” I wasn’t good at acting disinterested. “Dating Shelton was a no for me, but a girl could live vicariously in delusion.”

“He asked how you were, and if he came calling, would another man answer the door.”

“Hmm.”

“I told him you were hopelessly single with zero dates and few options.”

Grabbing a stress ball in the shape of a potted succulent, I tossed it at him. “Fucker, you better be joking.”

“Nah, I told him he should shoot his shot.”

“You’re setting that man up for failure.”

“What’s wrong with Shelton? Fancy said he was cute.”

“He is… cute. But I don’t do cute.”

“Yeah, I know who you do,” Edison teased.

“That was a long time ago.”

“Erm, tell Oz that,” Edison whispered.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

Sometimes I thought Ozzie was paying people to keep injecting his name into conversation with me or about me. Like his own little PR strategy to keep his memory in the front of mind. It wasn’t like I could pretend he didn’t exist. I had a daughter who copied all of her father’s mannerisms to a tee. The shoulder shake, the sniffing her food before tasting it, and even the primping in the mirror.

“Is Cyrus coming?” I asked. Cyrus was the eldest of the Birch clan. Just like Edison and I, he was an equal owner of the nursery, but he didn’t lift a finger to help.

“You know the drill. He’ll come up with some lame excuse for why he missed it.”

“He called this meeting. You know, it must be nice to do absolutely nothing and pocket a third of the profits.”

“In his defense, he is busy running Hume.” Edison pulled out a fresh pastry and took a large bite.

“Hume? Population 4,853. Hume runs itself.”

While Cyrus was kissing babies and pardoning turkeys, Edison and I were here at Figs and Twine busting our asses. Our parents had recently retired and handed us the reins—the thought of which still caused my breath to catch in my lungs. Edison and I had known that eventually we’d run the company, but we never anticipated that eventually would come so quickly. Cyrus was the mayor of Hume, but his loyalty should lie with his family first. Edison, Figs and Twine, and me.

Honestly, I should feel lucky Edison showed up. We were both usually off on Sundays, but now that we were responsible for Figs and Twine, our previously sixty-hour work weeks were closer to eighty. The business and ways to improve it consumed my thoughts every second of the day. It was the first thing that crossed my mind each morning. I kept a notepad on my nightstand in case I woke up in the middle of the night and needed to capture a thought or sketch a display layout.

“While we wait—”

“For nothing,” I said. “He’s going to be a no-show, per usual. I’m just gonna say it… I think we may have made a mistake jumping on this bed-and-breakfast project. If Cyrus can’t turn up for this, then who’s to say he won’t also be MIA when it’s time to swing hammers?”

“I hear you. But this was his idea.”

I sifted through the bag of baked goods, pulling out a bear claw. “Maybe his plan is to have us do all the work while he reaps the benefits.”

“He doesn’t move like that.”

“With those two left feet? He doesn’t move at all.”

“Can you be nice?”