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“Shut up,” Laura said with a laugh.
“See you later, Queenie.”
Hannah nodded and let herself out. Laura wanted to high-five herself. But she couldn’t waste any time. Her dad used to keep his wholesale suppliers in a Rolodex around here somewhere . . .
She started looking through the office area. Opening drawers, which—surprise, surprise—had more sawdust in them. After a bit of hunting, she finally found the dusty spinner of contacts and started going through them.
She found the main supplier and the backup supplier, picked up the office phone, and dialed.
“Hello, this is Laura Baughman at Baughman Home Goods and I’d like to discuss a shipment of flowers for a rush delivery.”
“Ah, Baughman? Like Walt?” the voice asked over the line.
“Yes, he’s my father.”
“Oh, well, I’m sorry, ma’am, but we’ve been out of the flower business for a few years now. The wife got into landscape design with my oldest. Is Jake needing to speak with me?”
Laura frowned. “I’m sorry, Jacob Lock? Why would he speak with you?”
“Well, he runs Baughman Home Goods and is set to deliver the thick chip bark I ordered next week. Is everything all right? We’re still on for the order, right? Because I need that bark.”
Laura’s mouth hung open, and she frowned and shook her head. “I . . . yes, I suppose it’s fine. I mean, I assume he’s still going to deliver your bark.”
“Assume? Is that why you’re calling me?”
“I’m calling because I thought you supplied flowers at wholesale.”
“That was years ago. You supply me with bark. Is Jake there? Maybe I should talk to him. This is—”
“No,” Laura said quickly. “He’s not here. I’m sorry for the confusion. Have a good day.”
The man mumbled something, and Laura hung up fast. How had this happened? The flower wholesaler now was using Baughman for their orders? Through Jake? Holy hell, the world was backward. She was ready to throw the phone across the room. Or maybe herself. The man who’d once supplied Baughman was now being supplied by Baughman? And now she looked like the idiot.
Frickin’ great . . .
She dialed the secondary wholesaler, determined to be stealthier this time and feel out the situation. But she got a disconnected number. After a few Google searches on her phone, she realized that they were also out of business.
Which meant that she had her first customer . . . and no flowers.
“Tough day at the office?” Jake called from his relaxed seat on the porch of his house as he watched Laura strut her perfect ass up his driveway.
It was a bright summer evening on the coast. Not a cloud in the sky. And Laura’s skin looked extra tan with every ray that hit her legs. The woman was meant for the sunshine.
“It’s a flower shop that just so happens to have an office. Not the office, and it was a good day, thank you very much.”
He nodded and took a swig of beer. “I can see that.”
The woman was covered in dust and her pretty outfit was wrinkled, as if she’d been doing a whole lot of moving and bending. Something he’d love to have seen. But the outfit didn’t match the scenery. Laura may have been raised here once upon a time, but she was a high-class city girl. One who looked like she’d just had a taste of manual labor.
He was both impressed and turned on, because the prom queen was hot when she was pristine, but a little dirty? She was sexy as hell. And he had the need to show her what kind of dirty he was willing to make her.
“In fact,” she said with a snap of happiness in her voice, “today was extra great, because I’ve acquired my first customer.”
Jake could hear the pride in her voice. He still couldn’t help poking at her, though, because the truth remained that the flower shop contributed jack shit to the business as a whole. Sure, he was happy she was happy. Wait, he should be upset about that. Or at the very least he shouldn’t care. But her smile was wide even though her face held signs of a long day, and the first thing he felt the need to do was pull her closer and ask questions. Maybe tuck that lock of stray hair behind her ear while she told him about her day.
He closed his eyes briefly. It was that kind of thinking that he needed to be careful of. Between the business and her camping in his front yard, he couldn’t really avoid her. And yet, it was too much . . . but not enough.
He wanted to know more. To hear her voice. Purely from professional curiosity about the business, of course . . .
