Chapter 12
Stella had been laughing for an absurd amount of time on the other end of the phone. Fiona held up two different black shirts in the mirror, feeling ridiculous.
“You can stop anytime,” she called out to her cell phone.
“That worked so much better than I thought,” Stella said through speaker phone, taking a breath. “And you? Getting up this early after a wild night out? You must really like him.”
“I don’t like him, Stella, he’s my boss. He’s just being nice and showing me around.”
“Well, he won’t be your boss for long,” Stella told her. “Did you see Cassie’s text about the site?”
“What text?” Fiona asked, too busy pulling out a third shirt option to check her phone.
“We got three emails through the website, and two direct messages on Instagram,” she said. “These are people who want to actually book us for a glam session.”
Fiona almost dropped the phone. “Wait, what? In the last 12 hours?”
“Yep,” Stella told her. “And that’s in addition to the three we got at the party.”
Fiona had to sit down.
“These are people who are ready to book? Now?”
“We’re coming up to wedding season. Bridal showers, bachelorette parties, rehearsal dinners…”
“Huh,” Fiona said, frowning. She’d been thinking about this business for a couple years. She’d gone over the business plan and logistics dozens, if not hundreds, of times in her head. Of course she wanted it to be a success. But now that they had actual potential clients, she was beginning to doubt herself.
“Hey,” Stella said, as if she could hear the self doubt over the phone. “It’s going to be amazing. Don’t freak out.”
“The business?” Fiona asked. “Or this potentially inappropriate outing with Porter?”
“Both,” Stella told her, sounding quite pleased with herself. “Now go enjoy your stroll.”
Fiona went with the most boring black t-shirt she could find, a denim jacket and a baseball cap, for what she hoped would be a very anti-date outfit.
It was a beautiful day, so Fiona decided to take her time and walk to the park. It was always easier than finding parking, anyway.
She’d seen this market from a distance, but she never felt the need to actually walk through it. Today she was excited to see what it was all about.
And then, she saw Porter in the distance, two coffees in hand. He was waving at her, sunlight glinting off his sunglasses, and wearing a smile that could melt steel.
It’s not a date, it’s not a date…
“Good morning,” he said, as he walked up to her. He handed her a coffee. “I think I remember you prefer just a little cream in your coffee?”
“Thank you, that’s right,” she said, impressed he remembered from the one time he made her a coffee during training week.
“Your hair looks nice,” she said, before she could stop herself.
“Thanks,” he said, grinning. “I’m learning.”
She tried not to read into the fact that he had apparently done his hair for this non-date, but she couldn’t help it.
“So, what’s your plan of attack at these things?” Fiona asked. “Do you go to every booth, or do you have favorites?”
“Well, I always start with the coffee, so that’s checked off the list,” he said, taking a sip. “And I always have to get a fresh juice before I leave, and usually a pastry for breakfast. Other than that, I just walk around, see what catches my eye, and pick up some food for home.”
She followed him around the market, thoroughly enjoying the stunning weather, the generous samples, and the azaleas in full bloom. By the time they’d made their way through the entire market, Fiona had picked up a jar of honey, a box of pastries, strawberries, and a freshly squeezed orange juice to-go. She and Porter found a bench next to the fountain to snack on a pastry before heading back.
“This juice is incredible,” Fiona said. “I’m going to have to come get one every week.”
“I love it,” Porter said. “And I always have to get some fresh flowers for my mom. She likes a new bouquet on the kitchen table every week.”
“That’s sweet,” Fiona said.
“She was a florist,” Porter said, shrugging. “It doesn’t feel right not having fresh flowers at home. She’s been letting me live there rent free while I’m getting the restaurant up and running, so it’s the least I can do.”
“That’s nice,” Fiona said. “I see my family at Christmas, and that’s about it these days.”
“Really?” Porter asked, finishing off his juice. “Where do they live?”
“My mom is in Illinois with my younger brother. He’s going to nursing school out there. And my dad moved to California a couple years ago.”
“Ah,” Porter said. “So, you chose Savannah?”
Fiona nodded, enjoying the soothing sounds of the fountain with the background noise of the market. “I was in New York, and I had to get out. My friend was down here for work, so I lived with her until she got married and moved away a few months ago. I could have left when she did, but after four years, Savannah feels like home to me now. And my family loves it here when they visit.”
She was enjoying talking with him so much that she was a little disappointed when it was time to leave. But he offered to walk her home, so they were able to enjoy the morning a bit longer.
“Thanks for joining me,” he said, when they arrived at her doorstep. “I had a really nice time.”
“Me too,” Fiona told him.
“Get some rest, if you can,” he told her. “Ava said we’re out of reservations for the night already.”
“Sure,” she said, smiling, knowing that she would be working at the salon in less than an hour.
She expected him to leave, but to her surprise, he lingered. He looked at her in a way that nearly made her knees buckle, his gray eyes intense on hers.
All of a sudden, he leaned forward, his hand brushing the back of her hair. Instinctively, she closed her eyes. She knew she had absolutely no business kissing him, but at that moment, she just didn’t care.
Except, she quickly realized he’d had no intention of kissing her.
When she opened her eyes, his expression was a mixture of embarrassment and shock.
“Uh…” he said, pulling his hand away from her. “A leaf fell. In your hair.”
All Fiona could do was gape, until she felt the blood rush to her face.
“Oh, god,” she said, covering her mouth.
Porter looked around, uncertain of what to do next.
“I didn’t mean to…”
“No, no, I’m sorry,” Fiona said, wishing the ground below her would open up and swallow her whole. “I completely misread the situation, and I just…don’t get out much. Apparently.”
Nonsensical words were coming out of her mouth, and she was powerless to stop them.
“I’m your boss,” he continued, though she really wished he wouldn’t. “It wouldn’t be appropriate, you know?”
“Mhm, mhm, mhm,” she nodded, squeezing her eyes shut. “Can we please just pretend this never happened? I promise not to ever bring it up again. Ever. Truly.”
He looked at her, far more intently than she was comfortable with. She could see a hundred different thoughts running through his mind.
“Sure,” he said, backing away, looking entirely dumbfounded. “Uh. See you tonight, then.”