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I shouldn’t have clicked on it. I knew it as soon as my thumb tapped on it.
Ian.
He was obviously drunk. Not that he needed alcohol to do ridiculous things, but he certainly did them with much more reckless abandon when whiskey or vodka was part of the equation. He jumped on the table and his friends were laughing uproariously.
Flynn with his indulgent smile as women were instantly drawn to the life of the party—my guy.
My ex-guy.
I flicked the video away, only to find another from a different angle in a different spot in the bar. This time, with a girl reaching for Ian. He had a besotted smile on his face and my damn sunglasses.
I closed the app. Hell no.
My fingers shook as I gripped my phone. So glad he was thinking of me.
Bastard.
I rolled off the couch and shoved my phone in my pocket. No more lounging around for me. I needed to get out this itch under my skin. I quietly crept down the hallway to the bathroom, but my mother was already up. She was humming lightly as she went to each of her orchids with a spray bottle and a little watering pitche
r.
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen my mother that intense about anything. Barking orders and getting things moving at the orchard, yes. But to actually hum a little tune with such happiness in her eyes? I tried to back up before she saw me, but she had eyes in the back of her head.
“Zoe Jayne, what are you doing up?”
I moved back into the doorway. “Fell asleep too early, I guess.” Considering my sleep schedule was more like a teething toddler, five in the morning or five at night meant the same to me when it came to working.
The canvas didn’t care as long as I had some sort of light source to paint with.
“I thought I’d go see Aunt Laverne. See if she can find me a spot at the lodge.”
She paused with her sprayer. “It’s fine, we can move my greenhouse.”
“No, Mom. It’s fine. I won’t be around long enough to move back in.”
“Oh, really? Where are you going with no job and no way to make money?”
I swallowed down the instant reply. I really didn’t need to have the “artists don’t make money” conversation with my mother. For one thing, my freelancing account was bulging with offers, and for another, I had more savings than she knew about. “I’ll be fine. I’m not destitute, I promise.”
“Family takes care of family.”
“And Aunt Laverne has tons of room over at the lodge.”
“You’d think, but now that your rich cousin has brought her band to visit, Laverne’s bookings are very tight.”
I hated that my mother got a tone when talking about Lila and her newfound family. She’d never quite forgiven Li for moving away and marrying her first husband. Very much like she reacted when I said I was leaving. “Well, it can’t hurt to ask. I don’t want you to ruin your…garden?” I stepped in, determined not to fight with her even though I knew she was spoiling for one. “I’m not sure what to call it.”
“Greenhouse is sufficient.”
The moment I stepped in, the change in climate was incredible. The air was humid and the scent of spice and sweetness clung to me almost immediately. “It’s beautiful, Mom. All of it. I wouldn’t want to change a thing. Honestly.”
Her blue eyes met mine. A sheen gathered before she blinked it away. Tears? From my mother?
I swallowed down the lump and tipped my head against her shoulder. “So, which one’s your favorite?”
Her eyebrows shot up and she blinked at me. She cleared her throat. “Vandas. I have a few different kinds. These…” She crossed to a tall fanning spine of leaves with large pink blooms dripping from one of the taller leaves. She touched the tips of the flower gently before moving on to another plant with smaller peach blooms. She rattled off some Latin-like words as if she was telling me about the weather.
Her passion came rolling out as she drew me over to a handmade box that definitely had my father’s style all over it. It had been made from apple boxes. Nestled inside was a similar fan of greens, only far more compact with gorgeous purple blooms sprouting up from the spine-like structure.
