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I pulled out my phone to find a driver, breathing in deeply to remind myself I was a competent woman who’d taken a risk opening a business. There weren’t many people who’d done what I did. It was something to be proud of. I could do it.
Two
JAKE
My eyes snagged on the sway of her hips as she walked away from me. Could I fix up her precious van within the confines of her budget?
I appreciated a woman who loved her vehicle and wanted to fix it, despite the odds. I wanted to help her, but I wasn’t in the business of taking on pro bono work.
Most people who restored antique vehicles had money to burn. I didn’t get that impression from Lily. She seemed to be barely holding herself together as she talked to me.
It was obvious she loved her grandmother and her van. She was sentimental and emotional. Things I usually avoided in a woman. I saw the way she steeled herself against my judgment the second her eyes lightened as she tried to stay optimistic. I wasn’t sure what that was in this situation. If she didn’t have the money for the van’s upkeep, there was no point in sinking money into her.
We’d see what her decision was once she saw the estimate. I headed inside where Ryan said, “You get her sorted?”
I grunted. “She wants that van running, but I don’t think she can afford the kind of work it needs.”
Ryan’s brow furrowed. “That sucks. She’d be a beauty if we restored her.”
Pleasure coursed through my body at the thought. I loved a good challenge, bringing a vehicle back to life. “We’re not in the business of taking on charity cases.”
“She really doesn’t have money to do it?” Ryan asked, tapping his finger on the counter that ran along the front of the garage. The shelf was a catchall for paperwork, tools, and small parts.
“She wouldn’t tell me her budget.” But that woman had been surprising me since day one. The fierce way she held herself together on the side of the highway when we met. How she’d shown up here for answers. Most women were intimidated by mechanics and garages. We worked hard to diffuse that perception, but she couldn’t have known that when she showed up today.
I admired the hell out of her. Not that I’d let on. Lily might have been beautiful, but she wasn’t my type. Under her positive outlook and dresses, she was a nice girl. She was probably from a nice, supportive family. I’d crush her, and she didn’t deserve that.
Ryan’s brow furrowed. “Maybe there’s some way we could help. She owns Petals.”
“What’s that?” I asked, confused.
He threw a thumb over his shoulder, gesturing toward the historic area. “The new florist shop on Main.”
“What’s your point?” I remembered her saying something about flower deliveries, but I was itching to get back under the Mustang.
“Doesn’t she transport the flowers for the wedding planning company? Weddings Ever After or something like that?”
“Happily Ever Afters.” That was something I remembered from our conversations.
Ryan snapped his fingers. “That’s it. It could be great publicity for both of us. The newspaper has been following the local shops for months. There was an article about the competing coffee shops and how the owners grew up on the same street and had rival lemonade stands.”
I shot him a disbelieving look. “You’re saying it would make for a great fluff piece in the lifestyle section or some bullshit.”
Ryan let out a breath. “What have we been trying to do?”
I knew what he was getting at. Grudgingly, I admitted, “Make ourselves accessible to people. Be less intimidating. Appeal to everyone.”
He nodded. “Exactly. This could do it.”
I frowned. “I don’t know how the garage partnering with a flower shop would be good for business.”
“It could be great for our reputation and the business.” Ryan shook his head. “You gotta think outside the box sometimes.”
The idea of a garage partnering with a flower shop was ridiculous. There was no customer crossover. It was just as ludicrous as me being attracted to her. I looked down at my grease-covered hands as I recalled Lily’s floral scent. She probably surrounded herself with flowers.
“You have to think of yourself as a respected business owner. Your past doesn’t follow you.”
“Doesn’t it?” I’m sure everyone in town remembered that my mother dropped me and my sister, Hailey, off on my nana’s porch and left. Nana did her best to raise us, but she relied on neighbors’ charity and donations for our clothes and winter jackets.
