Chapter 13
Anne stood under the hot spray of her shower and sighed, forgetting for a moment that the tub she was standing in was rusty and the cramped walls felt like they were closing in on all sides.
The comfort was doubly needed today. When her alarm went off at seven, she had immediately turned it off and curled back under her comforter.
Anne was set to meet Sophie at ten, go over all the work she had done to organize the shop’s finances, but that wasn’t eventually what prodded her out of bed and into the shower.
It was the memories of the night before.
The play, the arrest, then everything that came after.
She was concerned about Cricket, of course, but Ellis had been texting with updates all night, so Anne knew she was okay.
No, the scene that played on repeat in her mind was the car ride home, the conversation, the way Freddie looked at her when they were standing on the roof, just like he used to…
Except he’s not that Freddie anymore, she reminded herself for the fifth time since she’d stepped in the shower. In fact, he’d even told her that in the cab ride home.
It was like they almost resented who I am now and wanted me to fall back into that old version of myself from before I left.
She closed her eyes and stuck her face under the water again, trying to drown out the memory. She was so focused on it that she almost missed the sound of voices coming from the other room.
Her body tensed as she turned off the water, listening more closely.
“It’s a travesty!” a shrill voice cried out from beyond the bathroom door.
Anne released a sigh of relief. Cricket was home.
She got out of the shower and dried off, wrapped her robe around herself, and stepped out of the bathroom.
“I mean, what about my civil rights!” Cricket exclaimed into her phone.
She was over in the kitchen, looking through the cabinets over the stove, her phone wedged under her chin.
She was still dressed in the fairy costume from the night before, but now she had an oversized blazer over it.
Her makeup was streaked down her face and her hair was a mess, with only a lone pencil stuck through the center to keep it in a bun on top of her head. “I’m totally going to sue.”
She turned around and looked like she was ready to make another proclamation to whoever was on the other line, but when she caught sight of Anne, she froze. “Oh crap! I didn’t wake you up, did I?”
Anne would have thought her wet hair and terry-cloth robe would suggest no, but instead of pointing it out, she just mustered a smile and shook her head.
“Thank God,” Cricket moaned. Into the phone she said, “I gotta go, call you later, bye!” Then she hung up and threw it on the sofa. “Anne, you have no idea how crazy last night was. They booked me. They took a mugshot. It was like I was a criminal!”
Anne was tempted to point out the obvious—that slapping a police officer did in fact put her in that category—but decided against it.
“Are you all right?” she asked instead. “Did they charge you?”
“Oh, they charged me! I’m out on bail and I have a hearing and I ripped my costume!” Cricket exclaimed, then frowned as if she were about to break into tears. “And now I can’t find the coffee.”
Anne made her way over to the kitchen, opening just about the only cabinet Cricket hadn’t looked through, and grabbed the tin of ground coffee from the top shelf. Cricket sighed with relief, then waltzed over to the sofa and collapsed into it while Anne filled the percolator with water.
“They’re accusing me of fare evasion and evading arrest and threatening an officer.
Meanwhile, I hit my head and the police didn’t even care!
” Cricket cried, her arm thrown over her eyes.
“They just threw me in the back of one of their cars and took me to the precinct. I was stuck in this holding cell for hours before Glen got me out.”
Anne was about to pour the coffee grounds into the percolator but paused. “Glen from 2B?”
“I could have had brain damage!” Cricket continued, undaunted. “I could have died!”
“But you’re okay, right?”
Cricket sighed, sitting up. “Yes, but they didn’t know that.”
Anne curbed a smile and finished pouring the coffee grounds, then put the percolator on the stovetop. “Ellis texted a few times, but he made it sound like you could be there for a few days.”
“If it wasn’t for Glen, I would’ve been,” Cricket replied, her indignation gone and now replaced with a dreamy look. “Ellis called him and he came right up to the precinct. He said they had violated my civil rights! Can you believe it?”
Anne was about to ask what specific rights had been violated, when there was a knock on the door.
“Come in!” Cricket yelled.
The door opened and a moment later, Glen Rinnard appeared in the hall. “Hello? Is now a good time?”
“Glen!” Cricket exclaimed.
Glen smiled and walked forward, barely nodding at Anne as his attention stayed squarely on Cricket. “I just wanted to check in. See how you were doing.”
Cricket stared up at him, eyes wide. “Better now.”
Anne’s gaze bounced between them. What was going on?
“I’m glad,” he said, sitting down beside her.
Anne had only ever seen Glen in the evenings at their board meetings, when he was just home from work and his suit looked like it had seen hell.
Between that and his perennially tired expression, she just assumed he didn’t do anything but work.
But now, in jeans and a wool sweater that fit snugly around his middle, he actually looked relaxed. Maybe even happy.
Glen and Cricket stared at each other for a moment, and Anne was suddenly struck with the impression that she was very much a third wheel.
The percolator began to gurgle beside her, and Anne had never been more thankful for her antiquated means of making coffee.
“Glen, would you like a cup of coffee?” she asked, pouring some into a mug.
“No, thank you. I just stopped by to discuss the case,” he replied, barely looking over to the kitchen before turning back to Cricket. “Maybe over brunch?”
Cricket’s lips slipped into a smile. “I love brunch. I just need to change. And shower. And do something with my hair.” The thought seemed to remind her that Anne was still standing just a few feet away. “Do you want to join us, Anne?”
Even without the flash of disappointment on Glen’s face, Anne knew there wasn’t supposed to be a third chair at their table.
“No, that’s okay,” she said, taking a sip of her coffee and starting toward her bedroom. “I’m actually catching up with a friend. She’s opening a flower shop nearby and I…”
By the time she reached the short hallway, it was clear that neither Glen nor Cricket was listening. She doubted they even remembered she was there. So she skipped goodbyes and slipped away into her bedroom to get dressed without another word.
The storefront for the shop formerly known as Bruno’s Blooms took up the corner retail unit on Twelfth Street and First Avenue, tucked between a dry cleaner and a bodega.
Anne remembered when she was little it had been a candy shop, but now its tall windows were blocked with brown paper and its awning above was rolled up.
“You’re here, you’re here!” Sophie exclaimed as she bounded down the sidewalk to where Anne was already waiting on the front step. “Sorry I’m late. The trains were a nightmare. Ready to head in?”
Sophie unlocked the door and let Anne enter first. The hardwood floors were covered with a thin layer of dust, but she could see how they had been polished and where a long wood counter had been installed.
Even with the windows covered, the morning light still streaked through, spilling over the brick walls and drop cloths.
“It’s gorgeous, Soph,” Anne said. And she meant it.
“Took us months to find the perfect spot,” Sophie replied. “When I saw this one, I just knew.”
“It’s a great location,” Anne agreed. “The light is incredible, too.”
“Thanks,” Sophie said. “Ready to dive in?”
Anne tried to calm her nerves as she set up her laptop on the workspace in the back.
She had been so laser focused on creating a seamless workflow for the shop that she hadn’t stopped to consider what Sophie might think of it until that moment.
Not everyone found numbers and spreadsheets as fascinating as she did—what if Sophie hated it?
Or what if Anne had completely misjudged what she was looking for?
Sophie would be too polite to come right out and say that, but—
Stop spiraling.
Anne let out a shaky breath. Right. She could do this.
Sophie took a seat and listened as Anne began detailing her recommended budget and a possible bookkeeping system that would allow Sophie to avoid daily entry.
She worked to keep her voice steady, but it was an effort, and by the time she finished explaining the online tracker designed to alert Sophie when a new order came in, she thought she might throw up.
“Okay, that settles it,” Sophie said, eyes wide as she stared at the last slide of Anne’s presentation. “You are a genius.”
The tension Anne had been holding throughout her entire body released as she let out a relieved laugh. “Thank you. But ‘genius’ might be stretching it.”
“Nope, you’re a genius. This is exactly what I needed! I can actually wrap my head around the business side of things for the first time. Thank you.”
“There’s still more we can do, too,” Anne said, then caught herself. “Or, I mean, more you can do. If you want.”
Sophie smiled. “What were you thinking?”
“Well, there should probably be a long-term plan for growth. And in the short term, maybe a promotional campaign to announce the shop to the neighborhood. You could design some postcards, maybe even throw a party for the grand opening.”
“I love that idea,” Sophie said, her face lighting up. Then she looked around, as if seeing the potential there for the first time. “It’s time to prove that Freddie isn’t the only Wentworth that can throw a party.”