Chapter 8
eight
Just living is not enough ... one must have sunshine, freedom, and a little flower.
—Hans Christian Andersen
JAIME
As soon as she got the news from Tessa that the greenhouse had arrived and was in the process of getting installed, Jaime called Liam to fill him in. “They rented a huge flatbed truck to haul it from Asheville and caused an enormous traffic jam.”
“Excellent news!” he said. “The sooner this wedding can happen, the better. Does Dawson know when it will be ready for the electrician? I realize he’ll need a few days, but I’d like to give the bride’s father a firm date.”
“A few days? You’re kidding, right?”
“Not kidding.”
“We haven’t even decided on the invitations. I’ve narrowed it down to three options, but the printer needs at least a week.”
“There’s been a change of plans. The bride wants to call the guests and invite them personally.”
“But just a few days ago, she sent me the wording she wanted in the invitations.”
“Apparently, the bride went to the hospital yesterday with false labor and was sent home. Her father is eager to hurry things along.”
“So no invitations?”
“Nay. One less thing for the to-do list.”
Disappointing! Jaime had found some beautiful paper samples from Japan.
“I’ll be in Sunrise in thirty minutes.”
She glanced at the wall clock in the flower shop. “Where are you?”
“Highlands. Checkin’ on a few things. Gotta run. I’ll pick y’ up at the shop.”
Thirty minutes? She leapt from her stool, almost taking flight. She peered into a wall mirror that was used for checking bouquets. A mess! She was a mess. No makeup, hair that needed a shampoo, T-shirt over jeans. She grabbed her emergency makeup bag from under the workshop bench and hunted through it for a small container of dry shampoo.
As she rummaged, Claire popped her head around the door. “I just found a supplier who can promise delphiniums for the Opposite Wedding.”
Spraying dry shampoo over the crown of her head, Jaime looked at Claire’s reflection in the mirror. “Claire, you are a whiz at what you do.”
“Delphiniums symbolize goodwill. When I told the supplier I needed them for a pregnant bride and that her father was eager to get her to the altar before the baby arrived, he said he’d send them express. Apparently”—she wiggled her eyebrows—“he’s had a similar family matter.”
“Well,” Jaime said, brushing her hair with a fury, “I think it’s you. You have a way of getting people to want to help you.”
“Really? No one’s ever said that to me before. Usually, I’m told to think before I speak.”
“I suppose that’s good for all of us.”
“Not you. You have a pretty tight filter.” Claire came into the room. “What are you getting all gussied up for?” Her eyes lit up. “Hold it! I bet I know. Prince Liam is coming through town and you want to impress.”
Jaime frowned into the mirror, which wasn’t easy to do when you were trying to put on lipstick. “I’ve told you. We have a strictly professional relationship.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Claire said, giving her an exaggerated wink before she vanished into the front of the shop.
Annoyed, Jaime finished her makeup, ran the brush through her hair one last time, and looked at herself in the mirror. She looked all right. Could be better, but this would just have to do.
Knowing Liam would be prompt, Jaime waited for him out in front of the shop. She wanted to avoid Claire’s wiggling eyebrows and irritating innuendos. She’d forgotten how Claire didn’t always realize when she stepped over a line. It didn’t bother Jaime unless she happened to be that line.
You’re being silly , she told herself. The only reason she was annoyed with Claire was because she’d hit a sore spot. Over and over.
So maybe Jaime’s relationship with Liam wasn’t strictly professional, but it certainly wasn’t much more than that. Or was it? Jaime felt thoroughly confused. She assumed Liam would have flown to New York City after his Atlanta meeting, but he hadn’t. He said he had clients to meet and venues to explore, but he kept circling through Sunrise. And when he did, he invited Jaime out for meals on the pretense of planning the Opposite Wedding, which they did rather intensely—every detail had been thought of, the caterer booked, the party rentals and supplies had been ordered, the checklists were edited by each other—but then they’d set it aside and talk about everything else under the sun. Once, Liam put a temporary ban on talking about the Opposite Wedding and they went on a long hike in the mountains. Another time, she cooked for him at her little house. A true Southern meal—fried chicken and biscuits and coleslaw and potato salad. He said it was the best meal he’d had in ages, and she knew he meant it. Whenever he had to say goodbye to her, he lingered at her door as if he didn’t want to leave. Something seemed to be happening between them, but she wasn’t sure what it was. At times, it did seem as if Liam was surveying the area, trying it on for size. But that was just plain silly; it was Claire’s teasing that gave Jaime a glimmer of hope. Foolish thoughts. Liam McMillan belonged in New York City to head up Epic Events.
After all, if he were thinking of living in the South, he wouldn’t be Scottish Liam anymore. He’d be Kentucky Billy.