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“Dark red and black parrot tulips. Two dozen of each. The arrangement was breathtaking.”
I glanced at her and she smiled. “I remember the flowers more than the people who purchase them.”
“Makes sense.”
“Did she like them?”
“She did.”
“So are you back because she loved them or because you messed up again?”
I chuckled and she moved past me back to the counter.
“Both but more the latter.”
“You should make better choices then. I’m going to run out of arrangements that will dig you out of a hole.”
“The first one was a congratulations for her performance. She’s a classical dancer. This time it’s because I messed up.”
“We’ll then, let’s see if I can help you out of whatever mess you’ve gotten yourself in. Do you have any idea what you’re looking for?”
“No, you did a really great job last time so I’ll leave that up to you.”
“Are you truly trying to say that you’re sorry or is there something else?”
“I want her to know that I appreciate her trusting me and that I see her strengths, but also I want them to express how beautiful and rare she is.”
She smiled slowly. “Oh, you’ve got it bad, buddy.”
I chuckled with no intention of denying the truth. “Yeah I do.”
“I’ve got just the thing.”
* * *
My next stop was the private studio that was purchased for Cress. The owner was listed as Liberté Abstraite but Cress Devereaux was attached to the paperwork. I would assume the space was gifted by her brother considering he owned the building with the exception of that one space.
After meeting Cress, with a greedy intent, I collected every detail I could about my future wife. At the time it was simply to learn more about her. In the future it would be to ensure I had the ability to guarantee she was untouchable. As of now the information was simply an asset that made moments like the present possible.
Once I reached her space, I stood outside the glass-paneled wall watching her. I’d experienced Cress in motion a few times and as amazing as she was on stage, this was easily my favorite. Watching her now felt more intimate, like she was dancing for only me. Her feet appeared to barely touch the floor, giving the illusion that she was dancing on air. A contrast of strength and delicacy.
When the song ended, I knocked on the glass and her eyes jolted to mine. First with confusion but then a smile eased on her face. She sank to the floor but pointed to the door. I stepped inside the studio and she threw her hand up.
“Shoes off.”
“I’m not taking my damn shoes off.”
She frowned at my feet then angled her face upward to look at me. “You’ll ruin my floors if you don’t.”
“Then I suggest you come to me. I’m not taking my shoes off, Cress.”
She rolled her eyes and lifted so gracefully and effortlessly it looked as if there could be strings attached to her body and limbs that were tugged over her head. When she was close enough I wrapped an arm around her slim waist pulling her to me like I’d done it a million times before. “Hey.”
“Hey…” she returned in a breathy tone. “Are these for me?”
“No, for my next stop. She likes flowers. Figured I’d kill two birds with one stone.”
“That would be a dangerous game to play.”
