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“Harriet,” she replied without stopping. “But I hate it, so everyone just calls me Hattie.”
I kept going as she breezed away, fighting the urge to turn and watch her go.
Hattie. Fine. I had a name. And the sooner I got the boxes unloaded, the sooner I could help Hattie. But I wouldn’t ask her to be my date.
Putting my blinders on, I made quick work of my job, then jogged up to her where she stood in the back of the truck. “Here, hand it down.”
She turned with the box of bouquets and set it in my arms. “Thanks. These go in the bridal suite. Just ask one of the people in black where it is.”
“Yes, ma’am.” As a Marine, I was nothing if not good at following orders.
When I came back from that job, she had another one ready for me, and then another. A few minutes later, the two of us had unloaded the truck.
That was fast. Too fast.
I racked my brain for a reason to keep talking to her. “Do you need any help with any of it? Setting up, I mean.”
She cocked a hip and grinned at me. “Will it look like a five-year-old did it if I say yes?”
“Depends on what it is. I’m coachable, though.”
“Okay,” she said with a shrug. “I have to attach some of the bundles of roses to the garlands on either side of the aisle. Do you think you can manage that?”
“Totally. Zip ties?”
Surprise danced in her eyes. “Actually, yes. You do the zip ties, and I’ll tie artsy little bows around them.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
I held my arm out, stepping back. “Lead the way.”
Hattie grabbed a box of bows and zip ties from her truck, and we walked over to the outdoor ceremony space, where I’d already deposited two boxes of roses, grouped together in small bouquets.
The venue was an American Legion post, as the bride’s father was a proud member, and they were on a tight budget. That was why my mom had been tasked with creating the centerpieces. She’d said most of the wedding tasks had been assigned to various family and friends in a DIY kind of way.
The flowers, however, were as beautiful as the woman who’d provided them, and the family had clearly avoided cutting costs in that department.
Hattie and I worked seamlessly to attach the colorful bundles to the garland, making small talk as we went. She was so bubbly and friendly that it was hard not to smile throughout the whole thing.
But I did my best to act cool, rather than grinning like an idiot. There was just something about her that drew me in and made me want to keep her talking.
And keep talking, she did. Either she was the most talkative woman I’d ever spent this much time with, or we had that chemistry that had apparently been missing with the girl who’d ditched me.
Interesting.
“So, how long have you been a florist?” I asked, sticking the plastic tip of the zip tie into the connector on the other side.
“My whole life, I guess. My parents own the shop, and I think I actuallywasa five-year-old when they first started putting me to work there.”
“Aren’t there laws around child labor?”
She laughed, the sound floating around me. “It’s a labor of love. My mom says I was born with flowers in my hair.”
I couldn’t help but picture her with a floral crown placed on top of her blonde locks. “I can see that.”
She didn’t reply, but a small smile pulled the corners of her lips up as she focused on tying an intricate bow around the bundle of roses I’d just secured.
“So, family business, huh?” I asked.
