AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I have a mini daydream—the three- or four-second kind, picturing it all. The mental imagery is never enough to match the feelings.
The man. The things he’d do to me. The things he’d forgive me for when I tried to do them for him in my own clumsy way. The little castle in the clouds I afford myself before I heave my lids open.
Ready to try and forget it all, telling myself I have real-world problems and actual work to do, which is true.
I can dream about the perfect man later. I can also drown my sorrows about what will never be in a gallon of mint choc chip later if necessary.
Right now, this delicate flower is in work-to-be-done mode.
Once the phone rings, another customer comes in, picks out some flowers, and leaves. I remember I have a to-do list a mile long. I almost kid myself that my life can continue.
I can survive post-James Jones trauma syndrome and move on. But in reality, I know I cannot. Time stood still with James nearby.
A dark car pulls up silently out front, and I see a guy with a big head and beady eyes get out. I’m almost there. Almost back to my not-so-boring-after-all life.
Jasmine. Florist. Young business owner. A girl doing it on her own for and by herself.
Life goes on… I can live without…
Oh, my God…
Mr. Potato Head has a passenger. I see the profile through the window—the drizzling rain is like static against those chiseled features.
Huge guy. Well dressed. Regular shaped head, unlike his buddy.
Before he steps out, I know it’s him. Before he even locks eyes on me, I know.
It’s James, stepping out of the massive car and making it look like a toy. The rain looks like sparks arcing off him like I’m watching the most perfect man being made anew and coming back to me. Am I imagining this because I want it to be happening? I am so confused.
His friend bustles into the store as if the rain is acid, which it probably is, come to think of it, but James strides coolly, moving slowly into the store behind him. If that grin he’s sporting is anything to go by, he’s not grieving either.
His pal is quick to get down to business. Glancing at a cheaper version of the watch James wears, he announces rather than asks, “I need a bunch of the best looking, most expensive flowers. And quickly, I’m already running late,” he clips, giving a little tilt of his head to see if James picks up on it.
But James, like me, isn’t paying much attention to his friend.
He meets my eyes with that same intense look. Moving his open hands, he ushers his friend forward so I can serve him first, showing me he is capable of acting sane. Proving in a second what I knew deep down.
He got crazy before because of Theo interrupting.
Maybe he was in a hurry or busy with an appointment, or maybe he just really didn’t like the guy.
And if he is in love? If he really has come back to buy flowers like his friend here? I want to know all about whomever they are for.
What does she have that I don’t? Though I could list a dozen things without having to think about them.
“Miss?” the big-headed guy clips again louder. He snaps his fingers in front of my eyes, and I feel James tense up all over again. Whatever he has going on, he keeps a lid on it this time.
I serve his friend. The choice is easy. Because he’s been so nice so far, I wrap a little tissue paper around one of the display vases and slide it across to him.
“Awesome!” the guy says. “How much?” he asks, yanking a thick billfold from his pants pocket.
“Three hundred dollars,” I somehow manage to tell him with a straight face, but his tiny eyes don’t even blink.
He slaps four on the counter and makes an anxious groan as he looks at his watch again. He spins to rush out, bumping straight into James, who hasn’t moved from the spot.
His lip curls with a stifled smile.
And me? I’m wondering what the hell I just did.
