19. Emma
CHAPTER NINETEEN
EMMA
Sir Chills-a-Lot hums in what I can only describe as a passive-aggressive tone. It’s not quite the normal clink-clink-hum I’m used to. No, this one is slightly uneven, like he’s annoyed with me, and honestly? He has every right to be.
“Okay, I get it,” I mutter, brushing a strand of hair that’s fallen out of my ponytail out of my face. “You’re mad because you’re overworked. But you’re not the only one, buddy.”
Sir Chills offers no response, just another grating clink-a-link-cough-stutter.
I exhale dramatically and glance at the mountain of orders stacked on my counter. Mother’s Day decimated me—and every other florist, I’m sure. Not only that, but I’ve had a massive surge in bouquet orders from single men. And when they come in to pick-up, I recognize them from the Spring Fling Thing.
So that was helpful, and I’ve made at least four notes in various apps—and a paper calendar I cart back and forth to the shop every day in my crate—to make sure I sign up to do it again next year.
And now, I’ve got wedding season breathing down my neck and the park demo to cultivate. I planted a plethora of flowers and bushes that’ll thrive in the South Carolina heat the very weekend Aaron and I got our thousand-square-foot plot. I have to go over there all the time—sometimes twice a day—to water everything, because there’s no water in the pit-park.
So I’m hauling it in.
I wish I was kidding, and I feel like I’m clinking, and grating, and humming when I breathe too.
The bell out front chimes, and I look up from the bouquet I’m working on. “Sir Chills, be good,” I say before I wipe my hands down the front of my apron, put a smile on my weary face, and exit the cold room.
To my surprise, Matt is milling about near my ready-to-go arrangements in the front refrigeration unit. “All of my cupcakes are gone,” I say as I approach. “You have to reserve them or get here before noon.”
He looks at me, his charming smile already in place. “Hey, Emma.” He leans in for a Southern hug, and we quickly part .
I wasn’t aware Lizzie had a date that night, and I hate the creepy-crawling feeling in my stomach that he’s here for someone else. She hasn’t said much about Matt, and I realize we need to have a midnight confessional or a roommate night where the pink mic makes its way around the room.
I’ve been so busy, and I spend almost every evening at Aaron’s house, that I suddenly feel very disconnected from everyone I love in my life.
“You do cupcakes here?” he asks.
“I’ve partnered with Front Porch,” I say. “Jaymie bakes, and I decorate—a skill I’ve been taking classes for. Then I arrange them with flowers, and they make a pretty amazing bouquet.” I tuck my hands in my back pockets. “Can I help you find something?”
“Yeah,” he says. “It’s my mother’s birthday, and I need something for dinner tonight.”
Relief flows through me with the strength of a raging river. “Oh, sure,” I say, eyeing the arrangements he’s been looking at. “These are more for date night.” I give him a smile. “I’ve got more motherly and grandmotherly stuff back here.”
I lead him to the perfect arrangement for his mother, check him out, and greet my next customer. A man who’s come in while I was helping Matt, and he has a call-in order for one of my date-night bouquets. I’d offered them for twenty percent off on my flyer at the Spring Fling Thing, and boy, have the men in Cider Cove taken advantage of that.
The good thing is, they’re simple and standard, and they only take me about twenty minutes to do. For twenty bucks, that’s pretty good.
“There you go, Weston.” I beam at him. “I hope you have a good date.”
“Thanks, Emma.” He lifts his red, pink, and white roses in good-bye and heads for the door.
I take a fortifying sip of my iced coffee and glance toward the front of the shop. The OPEN sign sways slightly in the breeze from the AC, and sunlight streams through the windows, illuminating the shelves of cheerful arrangements I’ve already completed. The shop smells like freesia and lilies, with just a hint of eucalyptus. It’s my happy place, but today, it feels more like an overbearing boss who won’t stop assigning me tasks.
Then I have to go back to the cold room and keep working. I have three more orders that will be picked up today, and I only have one and a half of them completed.
Daisies, lilies, baby’s breath, pampas grass. Ribbon. Plastic pick. Card. I write the customer’s name on a piece of floral tape and stick it to the front of the vase, then move to the next order. Whatever I can get done today is something I won’t have to do tomorrow.
“You are in here.”
I yelp and my reflexes have me bringing up the long-stemmed rose in my hand. One of the thorns I haven’t stripped yet stabs into the pad of my thumb, and I cry out again and drop the flower, which is my only defense against the intruder who’s come into Sir Chills.
“It’s just me,” Tahlia says, holding up both hands. “No need to start throwing things.” She smiles at me, and she’s wearing a pretty blouse in pink and white, along with a pair of navy slacks. She’s obviously just come from one of her summer school meetings, and I move over and hug her.
“Oh,” she says as I grab onto her and hold tight. “Are you okay, Em?”
“I miss you,” I say with a sniffle. “I miss everyone.”
“You’ve just been working a lot,” she says. She steps back, and I reach up to tighten my ponytail.
I take a breath and survey my flowers. Listen to Sir Chills complain about me constantly letting in the heat from out front. “Yeah.”
“Well, I just wanted you to know that my teacher friends and I went by the park, and we watered your plants and flowers for you this afternoon.” She beams at me with so much sunshine, I almost burst into tears.
“You did?” My voice pitches up, and yes, I’m the most emotional roommate in the Big House. When I first bought this shop, I found myself getting overwhelmed constantly, and my friends and roommates would come help me get caught up, usually while I sniffled through my emotions.
“Oh, thank you so much.” I hug Tahlia again, so glad for amazing friends and watering miracles.
“Not only that, but Hillary took the afternoon off, and she’s almost here with iced coffees.” Tahlia pulls over a stool and sits. “Keep working, Em. And then you can tell us what you need us to do once we’ve had our four o’clock caffeine.”
We both survey my workbench, which looks like a floral tornado blew through. I know what this chaos is, though, so I pick up where I left off before she came in and I got thorned.
Tahlia lets me sniffle into the silence for a few minutes, and then she asks, “How are things going with Aaron?”
I shrug one shoulder. “Good enough. We’re still dating.”
She doesn’t say anything, and I throw her a look to find a puzzled expression on her face. “What?”
“Good enough? Is that what you want?”
“Of course not,” I gripe at her as my chime rings out front again. “But we’re so busy right now, and he’ll introduce me to his parents when he’s ready.” I shoot her a death glare and go see who’s here.
Thankfully, it’s just Hillary, and she’s brought Claudia and a whole tray of iced coffees. “Bless you,” I say as I take the tray from her. “I’m in the cold room.”
“This place looks so great, Em,” Claudia says, and earning a compliment from her is like winning the lottery.
“Thank you,” I say, smiling at her. I have found my footing here at Pretty in Petals, and I hardly have any crying days anymore.
“Do you have anything for men?” Hillary asks. “Liam finished that major build at the Reed’s, and I want to get him something.”
“No wings?” Claudia asks, and I look at her.
“I agree with Claude. Seems like something you’d celebrate with food,” I say. “Or a hat. Liam loves hats.”
“Yeah,” Hillary muses, but she still wanders over to the only masculine display I have in the shop.
“Where’s Handyman Hottie?” Claudia smiles at me.
I groan and roll my eyes. “Please don’t call him that.”
“Why not?” Claudia asks, her grin wicked. “He is hot. And handy. A rare combination.”
“He’s also my boyfriend,” I say, trying to sound firm, but my voice comes out softer than I’d like.
And no one can ever get anything past Claudia. She sobers and studies me. “Take your coffee,” I say. “And come say hi to Tahlia.”
She does, and I turn my back on her, so I don’t have to explain anything. I don’t even know what I’d say anyway. Aaron is sweet, but I feel like I’m using him to win twenty-five thousand dollars? He says he doesn’t care, but he must?
I shake the troublesome thoughts from my head, because I don’t have room for them.
“It’s okay to date for a long time,” Claudia says almost under her breath.
I glance over to her. I know she feels a little self-conscious about how long she and Beckett have been together, and that they’re months behind Hillary and Ryanne in tying the knot.
“You want to be really sure with him,” she says.
“Are you really sure about Beckett?”
“Yes,” she says without a moment of hesitation. “Becks and I are solid. I just…you seem a little less-Emma lately when it comes to Aaron.”
She’s not wrong, and since I already told Tahlia, I might as well spill my fears and anxieties to everyone. I get back to work after a healthy swig of my iced coffee, and Claudia and Tahlia chitchat until Hillary comes in.
“Will Lizzie and Ry be upset if I tell you guys something?” I ask.
“We can catch them up,” Tahlia says casually.
So I tell them I wish Aaron were ready to take me to meet his parents. “I mean, I sort of met them once, but I haven’t really met them.”
“Grams likes him,” Tahlia says.
“Yeah.” I position another gardenia in exactly the right spot. “I’m worried I’m using him in the park renovation. ”
“What?” Claudia asks. “That’s ridiculous. You’re working just as hard on that.”
“Yeah, but he’ll build everything,” I say. “I planted some flowers, Claude. Let’s not act like it’s the same.”
Not only that, but I have no idea when Aaron will actually be able to find the time to work on the park demo plot. He’s still working on the addition at the Lindsey’s, and he runs the entire hardware store. He definitely burns the candle at both ends, and I have the thought that I should take him one of my men’s arrangements and let him know that I see how hard he’s working.
Sometimes all we need is someone to see us.
“What else?” Hillary asks, oh-so-not-casually lifting her coffee to her lips.
“I’m afraid I’m falling too fast for him,” I say, my attention so needed on the orchids in my hand. “Just like I did Tucker.”
“Em, he is nothing like Tucker,” Hillary says. “Tahlia, tell her.”
“He’s nothing like Tucker,” Tahlia says. “And Em, I’ve never seen you so happy.”
I nod, because she’s right. My shop is humming along, despite Sir Chills’s hiccups every now and then. I have a super-handsome boyfriend who has never once said he resents me for using him for his building skills in the park renovation .
My phone chimes, and it’s Aaron’s snap-crackle-and-pop. “Oh, boy,” I say. “That’s him.”
“I’ve got it,” Claudia says, and she picks up my phone and taps in my PIN. Then her gasp echoes through Sir Chills.
“What?” Tahlia, Hill, and I all ask.
She looks up, her dark eyes so bright and filled with so much wonder. “It’s Aaron, and he just asked you when you could go to dinner at his parents’ house.”