Chapter 8
Daisy
My favorite book was The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. I must’ve checked out The Chronicles of Narnia a dozen times, if not more, during high school. I guessed it was what you’d call my comfort read. My escape.
I couldn’t remember if I’d ever told Max that, but of course, he knew.
Or remembered. He was the kind of person who heard my offhand comment about liking sparkling water more than still, so he always made sure there was a bottle of sparkling in his truck every morning.
The kind of person who noticed how I’d go for drives before big exams to steady my mind, and offered for me to ride along on deliveries with him because it was safer than driving around alone.
Or saw me carry a book one time—mentioned it was a favorite one time—and welcomed me into my temporary home with the reference because he knew it would make it easier.
Max didn’t just notice the little things. He noticed and never forgot them.
“When I like something, I want to learn everything about it.”
Unlike Todd. Maybe it wasn’t all that terrible to wish Todd had been more like Max, but it probably was a little terrible to wish that more than once over the last four years.
“Do you do weddings?”
I looked over my shoulder, finding Erica first and then the customer who’d asked her the question.
“Not officially yet, but soon. If you’re subscribed to our newsletter, you’ll get the announcement,” came her reply.
“That would be wonderful. My daughter’s wedding is next year, and your arrangements are always so exquisite. I know you’d do an excellent job for her.”
Weddings. Arrangements. Pain blanched my chest, and I quickly moved farther along the wall. My gaze leapfrogged over the titles of vintage books on flower species and an encyclopedia on botany until I reached the display windows at the front of the store, where I couldn’t hear them.
After I’d stuffed all my lingerie back into my duffel and explored the apartment, I not so casually waited until I saw Max’s truck pull away from the curb before returning downstairs to the flower shop to chat with Erica.
Sure enough, she was prepared for me at Max’s instruction and had started reviewing delivery protocols with me when that customer walked in.
Apologizing, she’d gone to speak to them and take their order—summer bouquets to be delivered to their condo every Sunday for the rest of the month.
It was being rented as a VRBO, and they wanted fresh flowers for the arrival of new guests. And now something about weddings.
I pressed my nose into a cotton candy-colored bouquet of garden roses and mini carnations, drowning my riot of emotions in their scent.
It would make a perfect perfume. I wondered if there was a liquor store close by.
And how would that look, Daisy? A pregnant woman buying a bottle of vodka?
That was a surefire way to go from homeless to incarcerated.
But I wasn’t homeless. Not anymore.
Guilt washed over me for the way I’d lashed out at Max. I knew I should cut myself some slack because of Todd…and hormones, but I didn’t like it when the cracks in my composure showed, when the edges of those cracks started to cut people who were only trying to help. People I cared about.
“You’re not broken, Daze.” Even the memory of his words felt like a warm blanket.
Why couldn’t I graciously accept Max’s help right now? Why did I have to be a jerk about it? If there was ever a time that allowing help was understandable, it was right now, while I was pregnant, fiancé-less, everything-less—except Max.
I wasn’t without Max.
And maybe that was the problem. It wasn’t about accepting help. It was about accepting help from him when I harbored a deep, dark guilty attraction for my ex-fiancé’s best friend.
Never in a million years would I have cheated on Todd, no matter how bad things got between us, but neither could I deny the pull I felt toward his best friend. That I’d always felt toward his best friend.
Now, I was afraid to rely on Max because there was a part of me that always wanted more.
A part of me that would readily sink into the space of, what if you hadn’t picked Todd?
and Max never would’ve left you like this.
A part of me that would’ve been instantly and completely broken if the man who’d left me at the altar had been Max.
I stopped, my gaze catching on a small framed photograph tucked into the corner on the end, and my heart pinched. I picked it up and stared at the image of Max and Todd standing in front of Max’s old farm truck, each holding a bouquet like it was a sword and pretending to duel.
I remembered when the photo was taken because I was the one who’d taken it. And right after, Max had let Todd land a winning blow, falling to his knees in mock defeat. He always let Todd win.
He always put everyone else first.
I put the frame down just as Erica returned to my side. “Sorry about that.”
“Oh, don’t apologize. I’m on your schedule today.”
“Do you have any questions so far?” she asked as we walked back to the desk.
Closing the catalogs she’d opened for the customer, she moved them aside and pulled back out the delivery schedule for the week.
“I don’t think so. It’s pretty straightforward, just making sure everything is delivered to the desired location, that the bouquets are signed for, and that all the flowers are inspected for quality before leaving,” I ran through the gist of it.
“I think I have a pretty good sense of how everything flows after riding along with Max these last few days, so I should be okay on my own.”
“Oh.” Erica looked at me and then back to the schedule. “Well, you won’t be on your own for the next week, maybe two. Max will still be going with you.”
“Why?” I blurted out the question. “Sorry, I don’t mean…He doesn’t need to come with me. I can handle the deliveries on my own.”
“Oh, no.” She waved her hands. “He usually does at least a week of training with all the drivers…with every position, really.”
“He does?” I wasn’t sure why I was surprised. It sounded exactly like something Max would do.
“Oh yeah,” she said and flipped her hair over her shoulder. “He’s very hands-on, especially when it comes to the teams that are interfacing directly with customers, since a lot of our orders come through the app or online. Wants to make sure everyone is giving their best.”
I nodded but found it hard to speak. Of course Max would do that.
“There are also a bunch of our largest arrangements on the schedule, so you’ll need a second person with you for those anyway.”
“I don’t need help. I can carry them, especially if there’s a dolly in the truck. I don’t have any lifting restrictions.” Yet.
“Daisy.” Erica placed her hand on mine, stopping me. “This isn’t because of you. Or the baby. This is our standard protocol for the safety of all our employees.”
Heat flushed my cheeks. “Oh.”
“Our customers are paying a lot of money for our largest displays. Max wants them to feel like they aren’t just getting a beautiful product, but also top-tier service.”
“Of course.” My exhale blew through my lips. My paranoia over appearing helpless was showing. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize.” Her hand moved to my shoulder and squeezed. “How about this? I’ll tell you when Max is creating some kind of exception for you, and then you can take it up with him. How does that sound?”
“Sounds perfect,” I said, the tension easing out of me. “He’s already doing too much. I don’t want any more handouts.”
“I get it, but to be fair, in the dictionary under chivalry, there is only a picture of Max Hamilton. I’ve checked,” she said with a droll smile.
I chuckled, ignoring the flutter in my stomach as I neither agreed with nor denied her sentiment.
Reaching for the closest catalog, I thumbed through it, not wanting to linger on one of the many reasons I was attracted to a man I shouldn’t want and couldn’t have.
For God’s sake, Daisy, you were going to marry his best friend not even a week ago.
“Oh, this would be amazing,” I murmured, my attention snagging on one of their fall specials, the Harvest Moon bouquet.
“I can get you one for upstairs if you want,” Erica offered, her eyes flicking to her phone for a second when it buzzed.
“Oh, no.” I shook my head. “I mean, that would be great, but I was just thinking these—the roses and hypericum—with a little bit of cinnamon would make a perfect perfume.”
Erica tipped her head. “Perfume?”
“I’ve been…distracting myself with making homemade perfumes over the last few days with all the leftover flowers from my—from the inn.”
Erica blinked and said nothing.
I closed the catalog, feeling silly. “I’m sorry. Please continue—”
“No, don’t apologize. I’m just fascinated. You made perfume? With our flowers?”
“I started. Vodka and peony petals, but it takes a few weeks to pull all the aroma out.”
She opened the catalog back to the harvest special. “What would you use from this?”
“Well, the rose and the hypericum leaves—they have an amber-like aroma. I don’t think…does anything else have a scent?”
She scanned the list of flowers included in the bouquet. “Pincushions. Safari sunset…No, I don’t think anything else in there is going to add much.”
“Those with a dash of cinnamon…”
“I’ll get you whatever you need,” she said eagerly, grabbing a notepad and writing as she spoke. “Roses, hypericum, cinnamon, vodka.”
“You don’t have to. It’s just a hobby.”
“I want a bottle,” she said and pointed to the bouquet in the catalog. “This was one of the arrangements I designed, so I’d love a matching scent.”
“I could make a matching scent for any of them,” I said without thinking…and then thought, what if I did?
Erica blinked. “That is…a great idea, actually.” She grabbed a notepad and a pen. “I keep telling Max we should do more add-ons. We’re going to start doing custom vases once Nox gets his production up and running, and I’d suggested scented candles. But perfume…I never thought of perfume.”
My brows lifted, and I looked between her and the catalog.
“Oh, I don’t mean that you would have to do them all,” she quickly assured me with a pat on the arm. “I know you’re not…that you’ve got other things—” She broke off and then started over with a smile. “It’s just a great idea.”
“Thanks,” I said softly, staring at the image again. What if I didn’t have other things? What if I started making custom perfumes for Max? For everything he was doing for me? “I’d love to give it a shot. Make a few samples for you and Max to test and see what you think.”
“That would be amazing,” she gushed just as the bell at the door sounded again. I went to stand, ready to step back and let her handle the customer who’d walked in when she stopped me. “Oh, no. Sit. It’s not a customer.”
She took her phone and went to greet the young guy holding a brown paper bag. I glanced at the clock, realizing we were well into lunchtime. Maybe I could walk along the main road here and find something for lunch. I doubted I’d find a place that had a—
“Meatball parm.” She pulled a sub out of the bag and set it on the desk in front of me.
The delicious scent would’ve knocked me off my feet if I hadn’t already been sitting. “How—” Dumb question.
“Max ordered lunch for us,” she said, and quickly added, almost as though she’d been instructed to say it, “Since we’re doing your orientation, he wanted to provide lunch.”
He wanted to make it look more official so I wouldn’t see it for what it was: Max taking care of me. But I let it slide because I had a feeling I knew how I was going to pay him back.
“Well, it smells delicious.” My stomach rumbled in agreement as I took the sandwich and started to peel off the paper.
“Usually we do something from the deli a few doors down, but Max insisted we order from this Italian restaurant like an hour north of here.”
“Ferrulli’s?”
Erica nodded. “Yeah, that’s it. Have you had it before?”
“It’s a favorite of mine.” Another one.
Back when Todd worked with Max, they did a lot of boots-on-the-ground marketing for the start-up and a lot of working dinners with investors.
Todd always invited me, but if I had to stay back to study, he’d send one of these sandwiches to my apartment.
But that was a long time ago. He hadn’t done that since he’d left MaineStems. He hadn’t done a lot of things like he used to before leaving MaineStems.
“Wow, that is…obscenely excellent.” Erica’s dramatized groan of enjoyment broke my derailing thoughts.
“An excellent exception?” I lifted a brow. Max could justify buying lunch, but could he justify ordering it all the way from Ferrulli’s?
“Whatever it is, if you’re the reason for it, then I’m going to need you to never give Max that apartment back.”
I froze. “Back?”
Erica made a bunch of unintelligible sounds before waving her hand like she didn’t mean it the way I took it. “Back to the empty space that didn’t bring these meatball sandwiches.”
I believed her even though I had the feeling I knew better.