Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Ruby
I’m mentally calculating which bills I can pay when Mrs. P. materializes directly in front of me. For an older woman, she moves as stealthily as a mountain lion.
She leans forward, dropping into her well-known conspiratorial whisper. “I hear Oopsie Daisies has a new owner.”
It’s a miracle it took this long for the word to reach Mrs. P. The letter from the lawyer arrived last week.
She continues, “That’s what the ladies at the post office said. A nephew of Clara’s. He’s a hotshot finance guy in Denver. Word is he’s going to ‘evaluate operations.’” Her air quotes are practically audible. “And mark my words, Ruby, men who wear suits don’t appreciate dahlias.”
After she leaves, I return to trimming roses, but the stem shakes in my hand. The phone rings again, and I glance at the number. Denver area code. The same one that’s called all week. Maybe if I don’t answer, the problem will go away.
Call me the queen of wishful thinking. I let it go to voicemail.
Later, when the shop’s quiet, I finally listen to the messages. A deep voice fills the room.
“This is Griffin Renshaw. I’m starting to think whoever is managing this shop doesn’t want to speak to me.”
I stare at the phone.
At least the guy can take a hint. Here’s hoping I bought myself more time.
Except the pit in my stomach says otherwise. I’m pretty sure my luck is about to run out.