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“The team didn’t seem to think so,” I answered Harold. I’d intervened all the time, getting the staff member out of the situation, calmly reminding the player or coach that social and traditional media were everywhere. Calling a star player a “lecherous fucking creep” whose “dick was so inadequate, he had to prey on servers trying to do their jobs and put up with his BS to keep those jobs” was decidedly outside of what I knew would be effective. It was the first time I’d ever actually punched someone, and I hadn’t been prepared for the pain in my hand. Turns out, choosing a six-foot-four, three-hundred-pound professional athlete for your first physical altercation is ill advised.
Harold nodded again. “Not like you, though. The fightin’.” A breeze blew the white hair around his ears, the rest of his head covered with a purple Western Carolina University baseball cap. “That girl of yours had you all twisted up, huh?”
I swallowed, remembering the flurry of texts from Sarah when someone told her, the way I’d wanted to toss my phone across theroom every time it chirped with another message I’d have to delete because I couldn’t bring myself to block her number. “Yeah, I guess.”
“You gettin’ yourself untwisted?”
I pictured RJ Brooks again, the way she’d looked at me when we bickered, the way she smiled when she was talking to someone else. “I’m trying.”
Chapter 9
RJ
A SLIGHT BREEZEcut through the warm evening. I’d spent the entire day in the office, despite the Memorial Day holiday, and inhaled the fresh air as I walked from the parking lot toward the venue. The art museum’s outdoor event space was modern, with white stone and concrete slabs fitting together at sharp angles. As I stepped into the space, I couldn’t help but look around in awe. They’d strung overhead twinkle lights, and tasteful white ribbon lined the chairs leading toward an arched altar covered in flowers. White flowers, blocked slightly by Lear, who was standing in front of them talking into a phone with an expression that was clearlyI want to kill you but I can’t lose my cool.
“I don’t care that it’s a holiday. Your staff were two hours late and delivered the wrong flowers. How are you going to fix this?” He stepped aside, still speaking into the phone, and suddenly his expression made sense. The altar was covered with flowers... for a funeral. A large wreath held a banner readingGone but not forgotten, and flowers on stands lingered on the periphery of the altar, along with a spray of roses, clearly meant to top a coffin, with calla lilies and greenery flowing from the middle.
Lear’s cool demeanor had formally cracked, and he was all but hissing into the phone. “So, your staff mistook your instructions tocreate and deliver a wedding package for creating and delivering a funeral package and you can’t do anything about it?” I examined the cut of his jaw as he nodded along with the response, the tense way he held his face, as if the person on the other end of the line could see it. I had a grudging admiration for others who could hold their cool. “A computer error. Are you kidding me?”
I glanced toward the back of the space, seeing Lear’s tense, pacing body in my periphery. Penny’s assistant, Tina, walked up the aisle toward us, eyeing the flowers and flashing a small smile of greeting to me. “Well, it’s been a day,” she said under her breath. “They dropped them off without saying anything. Haven’t told the couple yet.”
“Believe me, a full refund is only the beginning of your apology for this,” Lear said into the phone before hanging up, the press of his finger against the icon on his phone lacking the impact he seemed to want. He added a “Fuck” under his breath for good measure before he caught my eyes. “Ms. Brooks. Sorry. I didn’t see you.”
“Well, what’s the plan?” Tina ran a hand down the side of a cross made of roses, a tastefulRest in Peaceribbon across the front.
“We have to get rid of these.” He motioned to where a few potted flowering plants sat. “Maybe these can stay...” He ran a hand through his hair and let out a long breath before checking his watch. “Tina, I’ll need you to get to the reception site... see what we can do about it, but the ceremony starts in an hour.”
“We don’t have a bouquet,” Tina said, surveying the scene. “I think the bride is going to notice.”
In that moment, it was hard to reconcile the man I’d met the first few times with the person in front of me who looked like he wanted to crawl into a hole and make a new home.
“I can help,” I said, setting my bag on a chair. I stepped forward and began pulling white roses from the casket spray.
Lear and Tina looked at me, mouths open.
“My mom owns a flower shop,” I said, turning back to the spray, pulling lilies and greenery along with more roses. I’d spent years behind the counter, working and learning the ins and outs of wedding flowers. Even then, I’d tell my mom and grandma the statistics on these being flowers for a wedding that didn’t end in a divorce, but they always shushed me and told me I was too cynical. When my mom wasn’t listening, my grandma would wink and tell me there was nothing wrong with assuming the worst as long as I could still spot the best. I slipped my fingers through the arrangement in front of me, mining it and giving in to dusty muscle memory for floral arrangement. I glanced up at Lear’s cocky face. “Are you just going to stand there?”
Tina grinned and pulled up something on her tablet, reading through it. “One for the bride and three bridesmaids. Will some leftover ribbon from the chairs work?”
When I nodded, she hurried off to find it, and when I looked up, Lear was watching me intently. “You’re staring. Planning to step in to do it yourself?”
“No. Sorry.” He knelt, helping me free flowers from the wide arrangement. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”
“Are you sure you want my help?”
“Yes,” he said, cheeks tinted pink. “Sorry.”
We worked in silence and he followed my lead, grouping roses, then adding lilies, a little greenery, and then tying it off with the ribbon Tina brought back. My mother would have sucked her teeth at the finished product, but it would work. I turned the largest bouquet in my hands, examining it from all angles. I handed it to Tina, who was delivering all of them to the bridal suite and breaking the news about the delivery.
Lear held out a hand for me as I rose to my feet, but I ignored it and stood on my own, brushing off my knees. I’d need some lotion before this ceremony started now. He’d already moved the floweringplants, the ones that didn’t look exclusively like they belonged near a coffin, to the edges of the altar space, and we both looked at the wreath and the cross and the remains of the coffin spray. “Let’s add a few flowers to the ribboned chairs along the aisle.” He glanced over my shoulder. “If you’re willing to help still, of course.”
Goose bumps rose on my arms at his deferent tone. It was an improvement from the dude-bro, condescending one he’d seemed to fall into so easily in our other encounters, but it irked me. One thing I’d liked about the dude-bro was how easy he was to snap back at. “I can help.”
He started grabbing the peach and red carnations from the wreath, stuffing them into his fist.
“How are we arranging them?”
“It doesn’t matter, just a few in each ribbon.”
