Chapter Four
The Return of Flora
Flora was dropped off on a sidewalk downtown Mill Valley, looking like some glamorous stranger in town for the weekend—wide-brimmed hat, sleek black capris, red heels, and sheer, side-tied billowing shirt.
No one who knew her before she left would have recognized her now.
She looked like a completely different person.
She’d flown in a few hours early to surprise her father and was calling a ride when she saw a very familiar red Ferrari parked half on the sidewalk and half on the street, littered with parking tickets.
She grinned, fondly noting that he had not matured in the months she’d been gone.
She didn’t see him crossing the street with a frame in his hand—wrapped in gold paper with a bow—until she turned to glance around at the town, taking in what had changed.
He stopped walking and was nearly hit by a car when he saw her.
She smiled, happy to see any familiar face, and waved in such a confident and carefree way that no one would have ever known it was her.
He, for one, had idea who she was.
“Roman!” she shouted. “Hi!”
He looked behind himself to see if there was another Roman around, as if the name was as common as Andrew or Bill, then pointed to himself.
“Me?”
“Yes. Hi.”
“Hello!” he said, flattered that this beautiful stranger somehow knew his name. “Do we know each other?”
“Oh, you’re so silly,” she laughed, waving her hand at him. “Would you mind giving me a lift home? I was just about to call a ride, but seeing you here is fortuitous! Save me twenty bucks. Unless you charge.”
“Uh, no. I don’t charge. I live out near Cascade Drive… do you live around there?”
Flora looked at him closely.
He really had no idea who she was.
She laughed under her breath.
“Why, yes. Yes, I do.”
“Well, isn’t that just perfect.”
Flora loaded her things into the trunk while Roman threw the frame in the back. She hopped in beside him as he pulled off the curb, the tickets still stuffed under the windshield wipers.
“What a lovely day,” she said, holding her hat in place. “I can’t remember the last time it was this pretty here.”
“It was supposed to rain,” he reported. “I guess you brought the sun from wherever you came. Where did you come from exactly?”
“A plane,” she replied lightly. “How is your mother? Is she doing well?”
“Yes, she’s fine…”
He still couldn’t place her. And apparently, she knew him. How could he have missed such a beautiful person?! So unlike him! He was very aware of beautiful women.
“And how is brooding Finn?” she joked.
“Still… brooding…” He paused. “Okay, who are you? I know that I know you from somewhere, but I have no idea where from.”
“Oh no, this is too fun!” she said, giggling. “I’m glad I’ve come home even if it’s just for this.”
“Where do I drop you off? Where do you live?”
“Evelyn Lane.”
“I live on Evelyn… and we’re the only house on Evelyn.”
“Small world, I guess.”
“Big lane.”
Roman smiled, still completely lost, and drove faster toward home, as he tried to figure out who this perfect stranger was. In fact, he was so wrapped up he forgot he was engaged.
“So, I hear you’re engaged,” Flora said.
“Uh, yes. To Jane Brooks,” he said, glancing at his ring finger.
“How exciting!” she replied, smiling. “I mean, you’re a bit young to be settling down, but if she’s the girl, then you’re lucky to have found her so early. I’m sure I’ll go my whole life not finding the right person.”
“I doubt that,” he replied. “Not someone like you.”
The Ferrari blew past the Woodhouse gates, nearly taking out the gate attendant, Fred, who waved to Flora.
Flora got on her knees and waved back.
“Hi Fred!”
“Welcome home!” he shouted.
Roman looked up at her, a little starstruck.
They pulled up to the main house—large party rental vans dotted the roundabout, staff milled about with vases of pink roses and white butterfly ranunculus.
“Oh, you’re having a party!” Flora cried.
“Yes, it’s my mum’s birthday.”
“I forgot. Her birthday’s in June. You throw lovely parties here. The best. The most beautiful.”
“You’ve been?”
“Oh…” Flora shook her head. “No. But I’ve watched many of them.”
“Well, you should come tonight. Come as my guest. Seriously.”
“Oh no, I couldn’t possibly.” Flora shook her head again. “Not my place.”
“What? What do you mean not your place?”
The car stopped. Roman hopped out and opened her door before she could get to it herself.
“Please, please, please come tonight,” he begged, “and please, please, please tell me who you—”
“Ah, Flora—”
Finn emerged from the house, backpack slung over his shoulder, phone in hand. He barely looked up.
“—back from Paris, I see.”
“Uh, yes. Just,” Flora said swallowing, uncomfortable that her identity had been exposed so easily.
“Flora…” Roman said blankly.
“Did you have a good time?” Finn asked, unlocking his Defender, which was parked next to Roman’s car.
“Wonderful time,” she replied, nodding.
“Flora…” Roman repeated.
“Cut your hair I see,” he noted, sliding into his car. “Looks nice.”
“Thank you,” she nodded, a little surprised.
“Flora?!”
“Why does he keep saying that?” Finn asked flatly, looking over his sunglasses for an explanation.
“I really should be going. Don’t want to keep my dad waiting,” Flora said, grabbing her suitcase. “I’ll see you all later.”
Roman stood there, staring as she walked away.
“Flo—”
“Roman,” Finn said in a warning tone. “No.”
“What? I was just—”
“No.”