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Nadine chats with the other guy while my arch nemesis swaggers over. Not much has changed since high school. He’s still the prim and proper socialite he’s always been, wearing name brand everything, from the cable-knit sweater tied around his neck to his stupid loafers. Even his long blond hair is styled perfectly.
“What’s shakin’, scarface?” He reaches out as if to move the tendrils of hair I purposely drape over my birthmark.
Sweat gathers at my temples and under my arms. Nowadays, I keep it covered with a special type of concealer to avoid curious stares, but still, I can’t meet his gaze.
“Don’t call her that,” Piper snaps. “We’re not kids anymore.”
“Oh, come on. Surely you’re not holding grudges against the old endearment?” As if he can’t help but take another dig, he adds, “Besides, I like your new look.”
I stare a hole through the worn counter. I’ll never forget when Wade and his buddies locked me in the janitor’s closet for hours after school, or when he pantsed me in front of the entire cafeteria. Because of him, and others just as cruel, I was relentlessly bullied and gawked at like a freak for most of my life.
“What do you want? I’m busy.”
He presses a finger to the stack of butcher paper I’ve started cutting, and the urge to snip it is nearly unbearable. “I need a favor.”
“Actually, we need a favor,” comes a smooth voice behind him.
Piper touches her hand to my lower back in a show of comfort. I didn’t notice the scissors in my hand were trembling, but when I finally look up, the mocking smirk on Wade’s lip says he does.
I drop them quickly, glancing over at none other than the late Thomas Radley’s great nephew. “Sam, I-I mean, Mr. Radley. Hi.”
He offers a sincere smile. “Hello, Molly.”
“I’m so sorry for your loss,” I say, and he nods politely.
From the rumors I’ve heard, Sam is one of the few living relatives Thomas had left to help him manage his estate before he passed away a few months ago. Set on seventy-five acres of land, the Radley manor is somewhat of a hallmark in our little corner of Tennessee.
His family’s generations’ old lumber business has kept Magnolia Creek residents employed for decades. The factory resides on the outskirts of town and is a major supplier for my dad’s repair business. But in my twenty-eight years, I never had the opportunity to meet Thomas in person.
“I’ll give it to you straight, scarface,” Wade interjects. “Thomas was supposed to sponsor the auction this Saturday, and since he’s gone, Sam’s agreed to step in. Thing is, our florist fell through, and now we need your help.”
“M-me?” I stutter in disbelief. “But you always use Lisa.”
Lisa’s Botanicals has been the Magnolia Creek Country Club’s florist for as long as I can remember, and given that Wade’s parents own said country club, I’m thrown by his sudden interest.
Every year, a group of the most eligible women in town volunteer to auction themselves for one evening to the highest paying, richest men in town. It’s a long-time country club tradition, and a huge part of what funds the repairs our town needs, even though I think it’s absurdly archaic.
Not that they care what I think. Those snobs would never allow someone as damaged and defective as me on that stage, but they’ve got no issue with hiring me as the help.
“I realize what an incredible honor this must be for you, but Lisa broke her ankle and she’s down a worker due to maternity leave, meaning you’re our last resort.” Wade takes a cursory look around. “Although, if this is all you have to offer, we may be up shit’s creek without a paddle.”
“For your information, Molly has an entire greenhouse full of beautiful flowers that would be perfect for any event,” Piper snarks from my side.
My heart drops, and I cast her a cutting glare, but it’s not like I can gripe at her when she has no idea every plant in Mom’s greenhouse died shortly after she did.
Sam’s gaze flits curiously between the three of us, no doubt sensing the tension. “Perfect. Name your price, and we’ll be on our way.”
“If we’re going to work something out here, Mr. Radley, my girl’s gotta know exactly what you’re needing.”
He grins before grabbing a slip of butcher paper, and with the bold black marker beside it, Sam scribbles his request. When he hands it over, I audibly gulp. It’s the largest order we’ve ever received, and not only that, but even if I were to consider something as ludicrous as helping Wade, I don’t have it.
Of course, there’s no way I’m admitting that out loud. “I’m sorry, but my stock is limited. This will completely wipe me out.”
Wade pushes off the counter, rolling his eyes. “Typical.”
Piper’s hand wraps around my arm when I physically tense. If I had an ounce of confidence in my body, I’d tell Wade exactly what I think of him barging into my shop and trying to bully me into compliance, but I don’t.
Guess some things never change.
