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“Well, flowers certainly do that. What kind of message? Gratitude, sympathy, congratulations? AGodfatherstyle message instead of a horse’s head in their bed?”
He smiled. “No, but I like the way you think.” He scanned the display and sighed. “Is there a type of flower that saysI’m trying to decide if you’re worthy?”
I blinked and thought about it. “Well, no one’s ever asked me that before. But sure, I mean there would have to be.” I gestured to one display. “The pulsatilla meansyou have no claim. Or the white chrysanthemum meanstruthorhonesty, but you’d needto probably pair it with a butterfly weed, which basically meansconsider yourself warnedto really bring home the message. And maybe some coltsfoot. It meansjustice will be done to you. You know, like a bouquet that saysbe honest or else.”
He smiled. “I like it.”
“Are you thinking full bouquet? Because sometimes a single arrangement has more meaning.”
Lina appeared with a printout. She handed it to me. “The origami flower design you wanted,” she said.
The customer looked at the piece of paper before I could fold it and put it in my apron pocket.
He tilted his head. “You do folded-paper flowers?” Then he looked around the display room. “I didn’t realise that was a thing.”
“Oh, it’s just for him,” Lina said. Then she did a swoon, worthy of an Oscar. “He’s in love.”
Oh god.
“Ah, thank you,” I said to her, giving her a hard glare.
She didn’t take the hint to shut up. “After all, what does one give to show his love when he could give any flower in the world?”
I sighed again. “Yes, thanks, Lina.”
Then she looked at the customer and nodded to his hand, to his nail polish. “This colour is fabulous.”
He grinned and held his fingers out. “Thank you. It’s Atomic Tangerine.”
Then Robbie came in, holding the store phone out for me. “Sorry, boss. It’s Linden. He said it’s urgent. He tried your mobile twice, but it rang out.”
I felt my back pocket, then realised I’d left my phone on the service desk. But Linden? Calling me and saying it’s urgent?
“I’m sorry, I must take this call,” I said to the customer, gesturing for Robbie and Lina to please take care of him. I putthe phone to my ear and took a step back. “Hello? Linden, is everything okay? What’s wrong?”
“Oh my god,” he said, pure relief. “Okay, look. You’re about to get a customer. He’s short, has black hair, probably wearing something baby-girl punkish, has orange nail polish?—”
I turned to face the customer. He wasn’t paying any attention to Lina or Robbie. He was smiling at me.
“Ah, he’s here now,” I said slowly.
Linden groaned. “I’m going to kill him.” But then he sighed. “That is my soon-to-be ex-best friend Cory. Can you please put him on the phone? I’ll explain everything, I just need to yell at him first.”
I held the phone out for him. “He wants to speak to you.”
He laughed, and Lina and Robbie both shot me a confused look, and Cory stood there, grinning like the Cheshire Cat. “Hello,” he purred into the phone. “Oh, Linden, baby, don’t be like that. ... Yes, I know. ... I told you I wanted to meet him without you so I could see what he’s like when you’re not around, and I have to say,” he said smoothly, still smiling at me. “He’s quite charming. And hot.”
Oh god.
Robbie looked at me. “Do you know this guy?”
“I think it’s Linden’s best friend.” Then I remembered what kind of flowers he’d asked for. “Doing a spy-check on me to see if I’m worthy.”
Robbie clucked his tongue. “Oh, I like them already.” Then he swished his way to the back door. “I’ll be getting my work done, like nobody else here today, apparently.”
Lina took that as her cue. “I’ll leave you to it,” she said, smiling as she followed Robbie into the back room.
“Oh sweetie,” Cory said into the phone. “That’s some mighty colourful language. ... Yes, okay. I’m sorry. ... Because I’m notsorry, sorry...” He sighed and rolled his eyes then handed me back the phone. “He wants to talk to you.”
