8. Ellie
ELLIE
As I stepped out of the back room, the soft chime of the bell above the door rang out, drawing my attention. Penny strolled in with that signature bounce in her step, a wide smile on her face and her oversized tote slung over her shoulder.
We were just about to close for the night.
She’d texted earlier, asking if she could stop by and grab the last of her things from the apartment above Petal Pusher.
Now that I had the keys from Sandy, I could move in whenever I wanted.
Penny had left a few extra boxes upstairs until she and Mac had settled into their new place.
They’d bought a sweet little Cape Cod-style house tucked down a quiet road on the edge of Faircloud.
It was definitely a fixer-upper—worn edges and plenty of charm—but with Penny’s impeccable taste and Mac’s eager-to-please-his-woman attitude, they’d have it looking like a magazine spread in no time.
“Hello, my favorite flower shop girl,” Penny sang as she approached the counter, her voice warm and teasing.
She dropped her bag on the floor and hoisted herself up to sit on the surface like she lived here, which, to be fair, she sort of had for a while.
“Hello, my favorite small-town librarian,” I replied with a wink over my shoulder as I rounded the counter to start my closing routine.
Water bucket in hand, I made my way to the first floral station to check each arrangement, making sure they had enough to drink.
“That has a nice ring to it.” She leaned back on her hands, swinging her feet like a kid on a playground bench. “I know you probably want to head home soon, so Mac’s on his way. He had to finish up a few things at the bar before he could come help me pack the rest of my stuff.”
“No rush,” I replied, waving her off. “The only thing waiting for me at home is that book you forced me to borrow. And for the record, can I just say I actually love reading now?”
Penny laughed, her face lighting up. “See? Not so bad once you give it a chance!”
“How’s the house coming along?” I asked, moving to the next station.
She groaned and tilted her head back with a dramatic sigh. “So. Much. Construction. Dust. It’s in my clothes. My shoes. My lungs. I swear, it’s following me.”
I chuckled. “You two are going to be so grateful when it’s done. It’s going to be everything you ever dreamed of.”
“I literally dream about it every night,” she said, bringing her hands together under her cheek like a pillow. “Peaceful sleep in a fully renovated home, with no paint fumes, no exposed wires, no surprise raccoons in the attic…”
Just then, the sharp whir of a drill buzzed through the walls, followed by the rhythmic pounding of a hammer. It was the first time I’d heard it today. I had to admit, Miles had gotten better about timing the noisy work later in the day, after most of our customers had cleared out.
I hated to give him credit for it, but… I was grateful.
Penny raised her brows. “Oh. Now I get what you meant.”
I’d told Penny all about the noise, about the parking spot stealing. Our group chat heard plenty of my aggression.
I offered a tight smile. “I may or may not have marched over there the other day and given him a polite slice of my mind. Just a sliver. If I gave him the full pie, he might think I’m unhinged.”
“That kind of noise would make anyone unhinged. And he stopped parking in your spot, too, right?” She pointed to the outside wall. “Because I noticed you’re parked there now.”
I nodded. “Another unexpected blessing. Small victories.”
When I finished checking the last of the arrangements, I carried the bucket back behind the counter and set it on the floor. Penny hopped down from her perch and turned to face me.
Penny grinned. “Maybe he thinks you’re cute.”
I rolled my eyes, but my stomach flipped just a little at the idea. So what if he thought I was cute? Then say that. Be a man and speak up. I wasn’t that intimidating… was I?
“Well, he’s got a funny way of showing it,” I muttered.
Penny shrugged, the corners of her mouth twitching. “He is from the city…”
I chuckled. “They are a different breed. Maybe that’s what I need. A city guy to make me forget about the small-town feelings.”
Penny stayed quiet, clearing her throat and giving me a suspicious nod with a small, sharp dip of her chin. I chose to ignore it for now. Maybe dating wasn’t a good idea.
I finished wrapping up, grabbed my things, and we stepped outside, turning to glance back at the shop one last time for the night.
“Let me just drop this in my truck real quick.” I nodded toward the alley. Penny trailed close behind as I led us down the sidewalk, rounding the corner where my truck sat tucked between the buildings.
A square piece of paper caught my eye—light brown and fluttering slightly in the breeze, perched on the center of my windshield.
“What’s that?” Penny asked, pointing.
“I don’t know,” I murmured, approaching with mild suspicion.
It looked like a napkin. I peeled it off, unfolded it slowly, and blinked at the unfamiliar handwriting scrawled across the inside.
Neighbor who I annoy,
I thought it would be beneficial for you to have my number. You know, just in case I do something to piss you off again. You can just text me instead.
Your very sorry neighbor
I scoffed softly, a surprised laugh catching in my throat. Of course. Of course it was him.
Folding the napkin, I shoved it into the back pocket of my jeans and glanced up. Penny was already watching me, arms crossed and eyes narrowed.
“What?” I asked innocently, trying to play it cool as I tossed my bag into the backseat of the truck and slammed the door shut.
“Don’t ‘what’ me,” she said, following me like a bloodhound. “What did it say?”
“It was from the annoying neighbor guy.” I brushed it off as we made our way back toward Petal Pusher. She was close on my heels, nearly tripping over my boots with how fast she was trying to keep up.
“And…?” she pressed, not about to let this one go.
I opened the front door, heading upstairs to the apartment, my fingers fumbling with the key ring.
“I’m not going to stop asking, you know.”
“Fine,” I relented, pushing the door open and stepping into the mostly empty space. “It was his phone number.”
Penny gasped dramatically, walking to the stack of boxes in the middle of the living room.
“Oh my God. That’s dangerous.”
I turned to face her, brow raised. “How is that dangerous? It’s just a phone number.”
“Are you going to do anything with it?” She tossed her tote to the side and popped a hip out as she studied me.
I didn’t have an answer.
Was I going to use it?
Maybe. Maybe not. What would it matter if I did?
He was cute. No denying that. Not my type, though… but maybe that was the point. Maybe not being my type was exactly what I needed.
Something unfamiliar could be good for me. A little chaos to shake things loose. I’d spent too long boxed in by the expectations of this town, letting its comfort become a cage.
Men here felt like clones—predictable, performative, and polished just enough to make you think they cared. But someone new? Someone from the city, with messy charm and arms that looked like they could throw me over his shoulder without breaking a sweat?
Now that sounded like a damn dream.
“Oh, I don’t know.” I waved her off.
“No one would judge you if you did, El.”
Her soft words of encouragement inspired me, but it wasn’t her judgment I was afraid of—it was everyone else’s. No one could prove that I’d be able to date Miles in peace.
If I were truly looking to reclaim my life for myself, I had to do things regardless of what others would say, and getting to know the chef from the city was a good place to start.