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I couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up and spilled over.
“Have I told you lately how much I love you and how glad I am that you’re my friend?”
“I believe that word should be best friend, Ariella Marie Grainger. And no, you haven’t, but I already knew so there’s no sense in stating the obvious. Now, give me all the details about this building-being-sold thing so we can start brainstorming.”
And I did. And we did. Lou and I eventually ended lunch and moved to a nearby coffee shop where, after we each ordered grande vanilla lattes, we sat at a quaint, wrought iron table outside and continued to come up with ways to keep my business from having to close.
As Lou spat out detail after detail, I couldn’t help but feel the taste of despair creep up the back of my throat and land on my tongue. I didn’t want to tell my hope-filled best friend that finding a place like the one I had now was near impossible. Every day, neighborhoods like the one where my florist shop was located, disappeared. Helplessly, people like me, who’d been in the same spot for ten, twenty, sometimes thirty years or more, could do nothing but watch as their livelihoods went up in dust with the strike of a wrecking ball. If that wasn’t bad enough, they were forced to watch billionaire developers swoop in and build high-rise apartments and commercial buildings. The charm and the heart of what was left buried under the feet of the mega-rich who didn’t give a shit about what they’d destroyed. All they cared about was adding that extra dollar to their business portfolio or cashing in big on their next adventure.
And that was exactly what was going to happen to me if I didn’t find a big enough space where the rent was modest. And that was if I managed to retain my hard-earned customer base. Despite the hope that poured out of Lou’s mouth, I couldn’t help but feel like that it wasn’t worth it. That moving to New York City, taking over the reins of Everything’s Coming Up Roses, and starting my life over wasn’t worth it. I mean, what would have happened if I had stayed in Seattle? I might still have two of the most important people in my life. I might be less stressed and still working for Mr. Dufresne, who, despite his ill-temper, was a good boss and an excellent florist who taught me everything I know. Most of all, Lucas might still be a part of my life.
I felt myself scowl as I thought back to when I’d last seen him. We’d stood at my gate, professing our love for one another, and promising that as soon as we landed, we’d begin the process of building our lives together. It hadn’t happened though thanks to the asshole who stole my phone in the Atlanta airport and thanks, in part, to me, for not giving Lucas more than my phone number.
Why didn’t you give him your email or something, stupid? Why didn’t you cover all your bases like you normally do?
Because I’d fallen head over heels in love with a man I barely knew and therefore, was not thinking about the what-ifs. I was drunk on the euphoria of new love, focused solely on the life we began planning rather than preparing for any wrenches that could bring the working cogs of our plans to a grinding halt.
I spat inwardly and cursed myself as Lou continued to gab, either not noticing or ignoring the fact that I’d checked out of our conversation. Just as quickly as the thought appeared, it was replaced with the harsh reminder that if he’d really wanted to contact me, he would have. I didn’t want to admit it but maybe I’d read more into it than I should have? Maybe it was the passion of Rome rubbing off on us, making us feel something more than what we actually felt?
Part of me wanted to believe that, but another told me that all the excuses I was making were bullshit.
He told you that he loved you. Not just with words, but also his actions. And that last night together… The passion you felt with him wasn’t just sex. It was real. The sensible part of my mind tried to rationalize with the unsensible part.
“Oh shit!” Lou shouted, suddenly snapping me out of the rabbit hole I’d managed to fall down. “I’ve got to go! I forgot that I switched shifts with my co-worker, Danielle. I’m taking her shift so she can go to her cousin’s wedding and she’s going to work for me when I have my date next Friday!” Without saying anything else, Lou grabbed her coffee, jumped out of her seat, kissed me on the cheek, and was off before I could say boo. As I watched her rush to the corner and grab a taxi, I sat back in my chair and took a pull off of my coffee.
Despite my outward calm, inside I was a frayed bundle of raw nerves. My skin was sensitive, feeling like someone had scraped sandpaper across it repeatedly. My heart’s rhythm was out of beat, pounding out an odd arrhythmia that left me concerned that I might need medical attention. To put it bluntly, I was worried. I wasn’t one to worry or fixate on what went wrong with my life—except for the Phil fiasco, but that was merited—but knowing that everything that I’d pinned my hopes and dreams on could possibly go up in smoke left me sick to my stomach and fretting over the next twelve months.
What if everything worked against me? What if I wasn’t able to find a place to move my shop and I lost my livelihood? How was I going to survive in this ultra-expensive city without a job or the prospect for one? I wanted to trust that if things became that dire I would have a plan in place, but I didn’t trust myself. Since losing touch with Lucas, my life had been flipped upside down. It was one constant disaster after another, leaving me like the kid trapped underwater in the wave pool with no hope of rescue.
Six Months Later…
Nothing was better. I’d spent months and money that I couldn’t afford to lose researching what legal options I had when it came to my current professional status.
“There’s nothing that can be done,” the last lawyer I’d gone to said simply. “The only way out of it is if the building owner decides to not sell the building and begins leasing again.” He’d punctuated the end of his advice by offering me another cup of coffee and letting me know that if I ever needed anything further, don’t hesitate to call.
Although I was upset with what I’d heard, I respected the hell out of Mr. Moscowitz because he didn’t sugarcoat anything. He shot it straight and to the point and still had the decency to actually care. It was something that I’d never seen in a lawyer before, and I grew up with a high-profile trial lawyer and a judge for a mother. I knew just how slimy the legal profession could be and Moscowitz was definitely not one of the bottom dwellers.
Thanking Mr. Moscowitz again for what seemed like the hundredth time, I bid him goodbye and quickly left his office. By the time I reached the parking garage and went to unlock my well-loved Toyota Camry, my phone rang. Not up to talking to anyone right now, I let it go to voicemail and climbed into the driver’s seat. I’d no sooner put my purse on the passenger side than my phone rang again.
Letting out an irritated sigh, I reached inside my thrift-store handbag and fished out my ancient communication form. I’d initially borrowed it from my stepmother, Marjorie, after declining her multiple offers to buy me the latest iPhone, after my backpack and my entire life had been ripped off my back while walking through Atlanta’s airport. I’d initially told her that I’d use it until I could save up to buy myself something better but I hadn’t. Between Mr. Dufresne’s sudden retirement after suffering a heart attack and subsequently leaving me without a job, moving to New York, owning my own business, and the unexpected loss of my parents, I hadn’t much time to focus on trivial things like new phones.
Once my phone was in hand, I glanced down at the caller I.D. My old friend from college, Vanessa, was calling. Seeing as that I hadn’t heard from her in almost two years, I instantly felt panic shoot up my spine. If she was calling, something terrible must have happened to someone that we know.
“Vanessa?” I answered, doing my best to keep myself calm.
“Hey!” Her upbeat, cheery tone instantly deflated my panicked chest. “I know it’s been forever since we talked, but I couldn’t keep my news to myself. I’m getting married!” she squealed, not giving me an inch of room to ask what the news was.
“That’s… that’s really great.” I forced myself to match her enthusiasm. “I didn’t even know you were dating. Congratulations, Vanessa. I’m so happy for you.”
“And that’s not all!” My former roommate screeched excitedly again. “Mr. Hot Stuff and I are getting married in July. We’re planning on Fort Lauderdale, because that’s where my parents and my sister are living now. And you know how much I love Fort Lauderdale!”
I didn’t.
“Fort Lauderdale seems like it’d be a great place.”
“Oh, it is! There’s this hotel there that is like thecréme de la crémeof all hotels! It’s so glitzy and glamorous, not to mention, it’s a hot spot for celebrities and the ultra-rich. So naturally, that’s where my wedding will be. In fact, I just got off the phone with them and they’ve got an opening on the fifteenth.”
“Hmmm,” I said, suddenly not wanting to hear her happy news, or about excessive wealth because I couldn’t give a rat’s patoot about it. I also didn’t want to listen because I was still bitter that I’d lost Lucas.
