Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
Athena
This is a daily habit I could get used to.
I smile at the man who walked into my store as I was about to lock the door for the day.
It was another busy one thanks to Al’s brilliant marketing schemes.
I had to bring in extra help today in the form of one of my weekend assistants.
She’s still in college but had a block of time free this afternoon.
I put her to work, prepping the flowers that Leanna and I needed for the arrangements we had to get out before Al arrived to deliver them.
My great day just got better.
“Athena Millett.” A smile tugs on the corners of Liam’s mouth as he says my name. “I owe you.”
I take in the sight of him as he strolls closer to where I’m standing in the middle of the store.
His hands are shoved into the front pockets of his dark blue pants. The light blue button-down shirt he’s wearing is open at the collar and rolled at the sleeves. Today he’s wearing brown oxfords on his feet.
Damn, he’s gorgeous.
He rakes me from head-to-toe.
I tucked the front of my short-sleeved white sweater into black and white checkered pants. My low-heeled black boots are my most comfortable footwear, so they almost always make the cut when I’m getting dressed every morning.
As usual, I tied my hair up sometime around mid-morning when the mad rush started.
Pursing my lips, I ask the obvious question. “Why do you owe me?”
By the time the last word has left my mouth, he’s in front of me. He smells as good as he looks. The scent of his cologne draws me a step closer to him.
“You made my mom cry.”
I lift my chin to make eye contact with him. “The flowers made her cry? In a good way?”
Nodding, he looks around the store. “In the best way. Are you almost done here?”
“I’m never done here,” I joke. “I was about to lock the door and call it a day.”
“Have you had dinner yet?”
I blurt out the honest answer before I think it through “Not yet.”
“Me either.” He locks eyes with me. “Let me buy you dinner to repay you for making my mom happy.”
“You made her happy by ordering the flowers,” I point out. “I just arranged them in a bouquet. It’s the thought that counts and that came from you.”
“This wasn’t the first time I gave her flowers.” Stepping closer to me, he drops his tone. “She’s never cried before.”
I feel a twisted sense of pride in that. Not everyone has a visceral reaction to a bouquet, even if I hope they do. A lot of people only see flowers as a bright spot on a lousy day or a reminder of a birthday or an anniversary.
“Never?” I question with a tilt of my head.
“Never,” he repeats. “So it stands to reason that I owe you. Dinner is on me if you’re up to it.”
I’m up to anything that keeps me this close to him for as long as possible.
He may have a broken heart beating inside that massively broad chest of his, but eating dinner with him can’t hurt.
It’s not a date. It’s a thank-you-for-being-a-great-florist meal.
“Sure,” I say simply. “I’ll finish up and we can head out.”
Ordering salad was a mistake.
My stomach is still rumbling and now I’m worried that I have a piece of spinach stuck in my teeth.
I skim my tongue over the front of my top teeth. I don’t feel anything, but a sip from the glass of water in front of me, along with a barely noticeable swish of it around my mouth, should dislodge anything green from between my perfectly straight teeth.
They are one of my best features.
I lucked out in the dental department. My mom’s third husband wanted his stepchildren to be perfect. He slapped braces on my teeth along with my two younger brothers.
It was a gift that has kept on giving.
Liam watches me intently as he downs another half glass of water.
This dinner has been rated PG all the way including the cheeseburger and fries Liam ordered and our non-alcoholic beverages.
His attention has been on his phone as much as it’s been on me. If this was a date, I might be offended, but he apologized every time it took his attention away.
I stole a glance at my phone once or twice too.
Seeing a steady stream of online orders coming in for tomorrow boosted my mood.
I’m going to head to the store an hour early in the morning. Sleep can wait when there are customers to keep happy.
“Are you a native New Yorker?”
This is a new direction for him. His first line of questioning while we waited for dinner was all about flowers. He politely asked how I know which blooms go with others.
I launched into a nervous speech about balance and beauty.
I’m sure I stopped making sense around the two-minute mark, but he just smiled and nodded.
Every time I thought of a question to ask him, his phone chirped and his gaze dropped to it.
“No,” I answer succinctly not wanting to delve into the twisted tale of my childhood. “Are you?”
I’d rather fire off twenty questions at him about Wren, but I don’t know him well enough to initiate a conversation about his personal life.
I’ve heard enough tales about breakups to last for the rest of my life. It’s part of being a florist. People come into Wild Lilac all the time hoping that a handful of roses or a vase filled with daffodils will magically repair their broken relationship.
Maybe it works sometimes, but for the long term, it takes more than a few pretty flowers to fix a damaged bond.
“I was born and raised here.” He chuckles. “It’s home to me.”
I lean back when a waiter buzzes past our table, picking up Liam’s empty plate on his way. He twists his face in a scowl at the sight of my half-eaten salad.
I push it forward an inch in a silent offering to him, but he ignores me in favor of flashing a smile at Liam.
I can’t blame him. Liam is the hottest guy in this place.
“I can’t imagine living anywhere else.” Liam hones in on a crumb in front of him. He swats it off the table with a push of his index finger. “What neighborhood is home to you?”
I tug on the corner of the paper napkin next to my water glass. “I live a few blocks from my shop.”
I’d go on about how it’s a modest studio apartment with a fireplace that doesn’t work and a window seat that’s as comfortable as it is cute, but those details only matter to me.
The apartment belonged to the former owner of Wild Lilac.
She wanted to unload both in a package deal so she could retire in Arizona with no ties to New York.
Jeremy negotiated a fair price. I expected him to turn around and sell the apartment after a few repairs, but he gave me the keys and told me to make him proud.
I’ve never lived alone before. I love it as much as I hate it.
Independence is everything. The loneliness is overwhelming at times, but I wouldn’t trade those seven hundred square feet of my own space for anything.
“I live on the Lower East Side,” he offers. “I’ve got a killer view of the East River.”
I’ve got a killer view right now. Sitting across from him is better than any view in this city right now.
Another chime from his phone draws his gaze back to the screen.
This time he lets out a low chuckle. “My mom is still going on about the flowers. I’m officially her favorite son for the day. Thanks again for that, Athena. I appreciate it more than you know.”
This seems like the perfect time to call it a night, so I do. “It was my pleasure and my job.”
He laughs. “You’re damn good at your job.”
I push back from the table to see if he’ll follow my lead. He does.
Standing, I glance down at my half-eaten salad. I’d take it to go, but I won’t eat it.
“Thank you for dinner.” I shoulder my navy blue tote.
He’s on his feet too, sliding his phone into one of the front pockets of his pants. “You’re welcome.”
I wait for an offer to take me home or a promise that he’ll see me soon, but silence fills the air between us.
“Take care, Liam.”
His eyes find mine and for the briefest of moments I see a flicker of sadness. It makes sense given that his relationship ended just days ago.
“You too, Athena,” he says softly. “Have a great night.”
I sigh as I walk away. His heart needs time to mend and my body needs some relief after spending two hours staring at him.
“I will have a great night,” I whisper as I exit the restaurant.
I head home knowing that before I fall asleep tonight I’ll have a hot bath in my clawfoot tub and an orgasm courtesy of wicked thoughts of Liam Wolf.