3. Giselle
”Time for inventory!” Giselle hopped off her stool behind the counter mid-exclamation, loud enough to hear over the sweet crooning of her favorite indie folk playlist.
The snug feel of her cable knit sweater against her body for the rainy October afternoon and the narration of folksy guitar riffs in her earbuds added two more reasons for her good mood. The lingering feel of freshly tilled soil on her gloved fingers and the subtle aroma of mist coalesced on the walls of Greens Gardens Plant Nursery.
For the first time since getting dumped, Giselle wasn”t merely coping. She woke up that morning with a strangely welcome sense of peace, ready to spend a slow solo shift at her job.
She had wasted hours away with the potted plants and blossoming flowers, surrounded by an endless display of colorful petals, vibrant swatches of green leaves, and terracotta-colored pots. With her manager”s lenience on the phone policy, Giselle brought her headphones. She spent the solitary shift with her music and the plants she adored.
Giselle spun past the broom she propped against the counter, tossing her soil-stained gardening gloves onto the nearby workbench with the newly potted plants ready to be shelved. She smiled to herself, and her mood brightened with her energetic albeit terrible dancing.
Grabbing a clipboard by the stockroom door, Giselle clicked her pen, doodling a cartoonish flower in the corner of the checklist sheet. The sooner she finished the weekly inventory, the sooner she could close the shop for lunch.
Dakota, her best friend, offered to swing by and take Giselle out to lunch before her annual birthday ”weekend” at the end of the month. She sounded apologetic over text about missing her calls, chalking up her distracted state to soccer practices, and helping her sorority coordinate rush.
Giselle, however, couldn”t wait to be with her friend. Lunch at one of their old haunts was a bonus perk, even with the storm pouring outside.
She waltzed between the shelves of flowers in the front room, starting with the wall of seedlings and gardening tools. Giselle dragged one hand across the handwritten labels in her manager”s cursive while she checked off the boxes and tallied the number of each product.
She volunteered for inventory duty whenever possible. Unlike every other coworker at the store, she preferred the busy work. Unless the customer was an avid gardener or had quite the green thumb, Giselle ended up talking the poor person’s ears off in her excitement and overwhelming them with too much information about plant maintenance.
She adored her job, even though it was a minimum-wage gig. She never understood why it mattered to people how much money she made when she loved spending her hours surrounded by plants. The blossoming garden of flowers, fruit, and veggies in her backyard was the closest she”d get to heaven on Earth.
But, after the whole James fiasco, she clung to the comfort of her work in the otherwise uncertain times. For now, work gave her purpose until she figured out her next move.
Humming under her breath, Giselle mimicked the bluesy riffs reverberating in her ears, and the words blurred together with her animated recreation of the melody. She likely roamed off-key, but no one would know with her alone in the shop.
As soon as she finished with the seedlings and equipment, Giselle flitted in between the workbench of plants. She smiled. ”These should be the new petunias for the greenhouse. . . hold on. Is that a marigold?”
Partially buried underneath the vibrant canopy of magenta petals, Giselle caught a glimpse of warm, orangey gold. She dropped the clipboard onto the bench and reached between two cobalt-glazed pots, revealing a sad bunch of marigolds smushed toward one side.
She suspected one of her coworkers got lazy with sorting, but she had plenty of time. Giselle spun around, intending to head into the greenhouse attached to the back of the shop.
However, the potted marigolds nearly slipped from her fingers when she spotted a tall figure in the doorway. She yelped loudly, but her eyes quickly recognized the figure when he lifted his head.
Jude?
The second time seeing Jude Beauregard in years startled her more than the first, but she attributed it to her being otherwise distracted. Now, without the haze of James” borderline infidelity hanging over her head, Giselle noticed him.
”Devastatingly handsome” should be the only words people use to describe Jude.
They met when Jude transferred to Del Mesa Prep and into the advanced biology course during their sophomore year. She and he ended up at the same lab table and worked together as partners for the year, pairing together as two kids on the quieter side.
Honestly, he’d always been cute to Giselle. Back then, he had been lanky, on the quieter side, and rocked the floppy haircut that could make a boyband weep. But the years gifted him a newfound confidence and the once soft but noticeable attractiveness he had swung into dangerous territory.
Her eyes followed his hands as they pushed damp golden brown hair from his eyes, revealing more of his face. Giselle scurried to set the potted marigolds on the bench. She fumbled her earbuds out, not caring if the music continued without her.
”Jude—hi! Welcome to Greens Gardens Plant Nursery.” Giselle coughed, prompting Jude”s eyes up. He eased off the gloves and tucked them into his pockets, curling his bare fingers around the handle of his umbrella.
He shook it out with a light rattle, but his eyes held hers. ”Hello. How are you?”
Cold coiled at the nape of Giselle”s neck like the autumn wind pushed the door open and rushed at her. She struggled around her customer service smile; Jude wasn”t an ordinary customer, and his greeting wasn”t either.
The last time he saw her, she had snot dribbling down her chin in between gasping breaths and a mild burn from her bare thighs pressing into the scorching pavement.
Giselle”s shoulders twitched in reminder, but she languished underneath Jude”s attentive eyes. Whenever she moved, the subtle trail of his gaze caught her attention, even when he should be fixated on something else, like his umbrella propped against his leg or the slightly upturned collar of his tan coat.
”I”m good. Thank you.”
”I”m glad to hear it. I wasn”t sure if I”d see you again after the Ridge. But hey, two times in one week? Luck is on my side.”
”Well, I”m always around town. . . never left.” Giselle”s throat bobbed on the admission she tacked onto the end. Before then, she had heard about Jude”s occasional presence from James, as both attended the same university and chose similar majors. Thus, the rivalry continued. . . one she never fully understood. ”How”d you know I”d be here though?”
”Truthfully, I didn”t. . . You still work here?”
”Since I was fifteen.”
”I remember you mentioning your job in our advanced biology class one day. I don”t know why, but I will forever associate you with gardening and flowers. It stuck with me.”
Once cold, the rush gathered around the nape of her neck switched into a soft, pulsing warmth, and Giselle”s hands jammed into the pockets of her flowing skirt. Her and flowers? A match made in heaven.
She beamed at Jude, forgoing the ”customer service” smile for one a little more natural, unable to stop the tiny hiccup of laughter. ”How you remembered that is beyond me. Was I that memorable in high school?”
”Are. You still are memorable, Giselle. But I”ve always been fond of remembering the little things about people. You develop a habit of noticing them if you spend most of your time on the outside looking in.”
Giselle had a response in mind. She did. But her thoughts barreled like a runaway train, confronted by all the little revelations sprinkled into those three sentences. Jude”s nonchalant delivery paired with a voice afflicted with a rough edge from the ongoing drizzle outside. She lost herself and caught Jude”s curious stare, staying perfectly still as he inched closer. Had he gotten taller since high school, or was he always six feet tall?
Jude”s brow arched, and his lips pulled into a taut line, hiding the slight cracks along the inner edge from her once unobstructed view. ”Giselle? Everything alright?”
”Yes! You didn”t swing by just to check on me, right?”
”Oh, no. I needed some help with plants. . . buying a replacement plant, specifically.”
Whenever Jude spoke, his hands accentuated his words and the silence in equal measure. Giselle couldn’t take her eyes off him. She better stop staring at his hands before he caught her being weird.
”I can help with that.” She clasped her hands together, shooing away her jumpy thoughts about how weird she was being. It wasn’t like she hadn’t seen a handsome guy before. ”What type of plant are we talking about? Flowers? Ferns? Vegetation like fruit or vegetables?”
”I don”t know the name of the plant. I was supposed to water it for my friend during his summer abroad. I think I went overboard on the water.” Jude pulled out his phone, flashing Giselle a photo.
She accepted the phone from his hand, squinting at the screen. She examined the wilting leaves and their shape. Recognition zapped her, and she straightened up, smiling as she gave Jude his phone back.
”This is a Weeping Fig. If I remember correctly, we have a few saplings and maybe a handful of grown ones. Would you prefer a pre-grown one?”
”Yes, please. I won”t lie about what happened to the last fig, but I don”t want to inconvenience my friend with growing a new one.”
”You”re a good person.” Giselle beckoned him to follow her, stepping toward the greenhouse. She scooped the marigold from the bench and cradled the pot in the crook of her elbow. ”To the greenhouse!”
She and Jude slipped through the double doors to the greenhouse, bombarded by the sharp drop in temperature. Mist gathered on the windowpanes around them while the gentle patter of the rain drummed in a heavy harmony outside. The rare rainy day provided a short respite from the year-round heat, but Giselle could spend hours inside the glass shelter staring at the gray skies.
Giselle brought him to the aisle decorated by various ferns and other greenery, brushing her fingers through any fronds hanging into the walkway. She hummed and checked the tags, on the hunt for a Weeping Fig. She knew the store had them because the inventory sheet said so.
Jude”s presence hovered behind her, but she hadn”t noticed how close his body drew to hers until she stopped, and his chest bumped into her shoulder. She squeaked, ”Sorry.”
”It”s fine. How much for one of these little guys?”
”Little? This one is four and a half feet tall already!”
Jude laughed from behind her as Giselle attempted to lift the frontmost fig, quickly switching to a smaller one around the three-and-a-half-foot range. But a second pair of hands joined hers, lifting the potted plant from its little slot on the half-shelf.
Giselle saw how Jude set the fig to the floor and offered the ghost of a smile, promised in the slight twitch of his lips. ”Alright, I need to confess. . . I didn”t only come here for a plant.”
He propped his umbrella against the nearby rack of tiny tomato plants, doing little to stop the startled skip of Giselle”s heartbeat in her ears. Jude turned to her, and the dull gray from the stormy weather brought out the depth of his eyes. Giselle looked into them and saw the richness of the earth, a toned brown carved from the mountainside or tilled from the soil.
”You didn”t?” she whispered.
”I wanted to ask you something. I know it isn’t any of my business, so don’t feel obligated to answer,” Jude prefaced and cleared his throat. “But after the other day, I was really concerned about you. Did you break up with Jameson?”
Giselle froze, eyes wide like a deer in headlights. Her lips parted as if to respond a few times, closing back up after each attempt. Well, she should expect the questions to come eventually.
”No. He broke up with me.”
”Why? I”ve always thought he was a nearsighted moron, but I can”t figure his logic out for this one.”
His comment elicited a knee-jerk laugh from her. Giselle”s hands pressed against her lips, palms clasped together and her fingers pushing down, urging her not to speak anymore. Jude and James never liked one another, but Jude’s scathing assessment inspired amusement and sadness in equal measure. Maybe James was a moron, but did that make her the fool for loving him for years?
She paused, ”He told me he didn”t see us working out long-term because I”m not sophisticated enough for his image. He went on about how I don”t fit into his new and improved future. He wasted no time searching for his latest, more serious girlfriend.”
Jude”s brows furrowed. ”That’s what he said? That you weren’t up to his standards?”
“Yes. In his eyes, I’m a burden on his image.”
“Oh,” Jude paused. “I see.”
Giselle paused again. Jude hesitated, and the smallest pause unraveled her thoughts like thread off a spool. She cocked her head. “What is it? You look like you don’t believe me.”
“It’s not that. His behavior doesn’t match his words, at least from what I’ve seen.”
”What did you see?”
”I”ve spotted him with at least two different girls at the Ridge in the last few weeks, neither of whom was the first one. Giselle, I”m sorry. . .”
”Oh my god,” Giselle croaked and folded harder than the cheap origami set she bought online during her crafty phase in high school. She squatted down, head tucking into her knees. ”I think I”m going to be sick.”
”Do you need to throw up or sit down?”
”Sit. Sit down. I need to sit.”
”Alright, slowly.” Jude”s hands found her arms, and he assisted her onto the ground, all through a gentle touch. Giselle sucked in a rattling breath and hated how nauseated she felt. ”Head up and breathe.”
Giselle blearily lifted her head, shaking out the few curls escaping her work braid, ”I guess “serious” meant something else. How many girls do you think he had lined up before he dumped me? How many had I shared him with, Jude?”
”I don”t know. I try to tune him out whenever we encounter each other since we aren”t in the same major, and I think he’s a hot air bag. Overlap still happened,” Jude whispered, and if anyone else had been there, Giselle might”ve asked to be alone for a while.
But she refused to shoot the messenger.
”I hate him. He discarded me like I was trash. I didn’t understand how I hadn’t been a good fit for his image, but this changes things. He wanted to see other people and run wild. I spent the last few weeks thinking something was wrong with me while it was him all along!”
”He’s the worst. He absolutely is. But maybe you can get him back a little, give him a taste of his medicine.”
Giselle tipped her face toward Jude but didn”t search hard or long before noticing the darkened gleam in his eyes. She remembered a brief glimpse of anger at the tennis courts on the Ridge when he spotted James with the other girl. In those eyes, a perfect storm brewed and promised to sweep Giselle away in whatever Jude had up his sleeve.
”How would I do that?” asked Giselle.
Jude’s lips parted, but he shook his head, eyes darting away from hers. “Never mind. It’s stupid.”
However, the curiosity got the better of Giselle, and she reached out to grasp his wrist. Her touch brought his attention squarely back to them. “Please tell me. I won’t judge.”
”I”m sorry if this is too forward, but we have a golden opportunity to stick it to Jameson Calloway and his jerk behavior.”
”Which is what exactly?”
”You and I should pretend to date.”
Giselle blinked, jaw falling wide open, and stammered out the oh-so-intelligent response of, ”Huh?”
Her and him? Pretend to date? After weeks of consistent revelations and emotional turmoil, the suggestion took first place in the ‘most unexpected twist’ category.
Jude grimaced. “See, I told you the idea was stupid. Forget I said anything?”
His back-pedal should’ve told Giselle to drop the thought, but she couldn’t. At first, the idea took her completely by surprise.
But the thought dwelled. Images of Jude and her walking down the street with intertwined hands or doing the stereotypical couple things in public. If James saw them arm-in-arm, he’d lose his mind. That, and a guy like Jude Beauregard didn”t come around with such a tempting offer every day.
“No, it’s not,” Giselle startled Jude and herself with how the words rushed out. She released Jude’s wrist—which she still held before he dropped the fake dating bombshell on her—and peered at him pleadingly. “I’m all ears.”
Jude”s brows knitted together, but he shifted closer to her. ”I know it sounds unconventional but think about it. James treated you like a toy to play with and then discarded you at his convenience. He said you weren”t on his level, sticking his nose up at you and the honest life you live. What better way to rip his high ground from under his feet than to be seen with the one person he hates most? You know about our history; we have the rivalry to dangle over his head.”
”As much as one can know since he never explained,” Giselle murmured, still struck by the suggestion. Jude spoke with a dangerous level of persuasion, the kind where he could charm her out of anything he wanted. ”I get what I win in this arrangement, but how does it help you? Why are you helping me?”
“Well, I like you. You’re a sweet person who deserved better than how James treated you. I find it cute that you’re concerned about using me,” Jude chuckled, and his voice slipped into a husky twinge. “The arrangement can work for us equally. You’re serious, no matter what James said. So, we should show him how any man with enough brains can see your desirability and remind him that he isn’t a prize. You’re the better half of that relationship. I get to put him in his place and solve my parents’ worries that I’m missing out on golden opportunities to find “the one” because my head is buried in the books. This year, I have my sights set on some ambitious goals, and a real girlfriend would need me to be committed to her. A fake one, however, wouldn’t require as much and give me the chance to focus on school.”
“I could be that for you,” Giselle murmured. “Did you have a specific arrangement in mind? Like, do we have a certain number of dates we go on in public for appearances?”
”I didn”t have anything in mind. The idea just hit me while sitting here with you.” Jude shrugged. “But we can talk it through. It’s about us both getting what we need, as calculated as that might sound.”
Giselle sat taller beside Jude. “I feel like we should go on a few dates in public, so people see us out and about as a couple. But we can reserve our public outings for big social events and tell people about our relationship since you’re located Downtown, which is a drive.”
“Right, but I come home on the weekends.”
“You do?”
“It’s something new for me. My parents have an empty nest, and I missed my mom’s cooking, so I will be in the area from Friday evening to Sunday evening,” said Jude.
Giselle watched him pick at his sleeve as he spoke. “If you’re here every weekend, then do you want to hang out? It doesn’t have to be a date or anything serious. You can come over to my place for a few hours and tell your parents we spent private time together. You can study or do whatever else instead.”
“Giselle, I couldn’t impose like that.” In his rush, Jude’s polite dismissal turned into a choked cough. “This is supposed to be convenient for you and me.”
Giselle sat a little taller, arms curled around her knees. ”It’s not imposing. Right now, I don”t have too many people lining up to spend time with me. Our old friend group has shut me out since the split, and I’d like the company, even if it’s silent companionship while I do household chores.”
“Okay. So, let me see if I got this right. We’ll go on a few dates in the public eye or any social functions that require a plus one together. We’ll tell everyone that we’re dating if they ask. . . and I’ll stop by your place while I’m in town at least once to keep the pretense up. Did I hit everything?”
“You got it all. I don’t know about you, but private time was common for my last relationship.”
“I’ve always been on the private side with those things, too. So, it’s not out of character for me to keep it to myself.” Jude mustered a slight, closed-lipped smile. “I think our relationship is already getting off to a good start.”
“I’ll say. We’ve got a date schedule planned out already. If only all relationships worked so efficiently.” Giselle giggled. Laughter felt good after weeks of crying and barely hanging on by a thread. Her chest brimmed with the butterflies she thought died on the day James broke up with her, carrying hope on their gossamer wings.
“Speaking of that.” Jude’s legs stretched across the aisle, and he heaved a sigh. “What makes a good boyfriend? To you.”
“I have limited experience in that department,” Giselle blew at a loose hair falling into her eyes, impeccably timed. “But he’s kind, pays attention to my interests, even if he’s pretending, funny, and makes me feel special.”
“How would he go about doing that?”
“Small things, I guess. He buys me presents because he thought about me. He has a cute nickname for me. He shows up for the little moments. He shows me that he’s the person I can depend on no matter what.”
Even while Giselle listed the magical traits of her ideal boyfriend, Jude held her gaze straight on. She almost lost herself in his eyes with how earnest his stare became.
Jude’s hand hesitantly lifted and brushed the stray hair she had fought with before. He whispered, “Mmm, well, I’ll do my best as your new, totally real boyfriend to honor those desires, sweetheart.”
Giselle bit her lip. “Sweetheart is cute.”
“But you don’t love it… how about darling?”
“That’s a nice one.”
“But not perfect. Oh, I’ve got it. I’ll call you Pookie Bear.”
”Absolutely not.”
The two erupted into scoffs and laughter, unable to keep a straight face. Pookie Bear was a hard no for obvious reasons, but Giselle shouldn”t have to spell those out.
Jude rubbed at his face, still laughing. ”Something will hit me one of these days, and I’ll surprise us both.”
“Trust me, anything you come up with will be better than ‘baby’,” Giselle said, too busy tracing circles on her kneecap over her skirt to stop her little jab at James.
“Baby? Let me guess, that’s what James came up with.”
“You would be correct.”
“How unoriginal. Now I have to beat him.”
Jude beating James at his own game. . . something familiar.
Giselle thrust her hand toward Jude, chin held high. ”Alright, you’ve sold me. I’ll be your fake girlfriend.”
Jude clasped her hand. ”One more thing we should probably discuss before sealing this deal. We might have to get physically cozy when we”re out in public. Are you okay with that?”
“Right. I’m okay with that.” Warmth bloomed across her cheeks while Jude raked his eyes over her. “You’re looking at me funny.”
“Is it okay if we practice?”
“Practice? What did you have in mind?”
“I”ll start with the small things like holding hands or putting my hand somewhere above your waist?”
Jude”s hand gently grabbed the same one they shook with and brought it toward his chest, pulling Giselle a little closer to his lap. Her breath hitched in her throat when Jude laced their fingers together, her palm flush with his and suddenly sweatier than moments before.
”That”s fine. More than acceptable,” Giselle promised, nodding hard and stumbling over her words.
”How about hugs?”
”I love hugs. I”m a touchy person in general. I hug with friends all the time—”
”That”s good to know. That only leaves one more thing on my checklist: kissing.”
Giselle”s ears buzzed loudly, and she swallowed. ”What did you have in mind? About kissing, that is?”
”Well, starting off small. . .forehead and hair kisses, yes or no?” Jude raised a brow, but Giselle scooted a little closer, pushing onto her knees instead of sitting flat on the greenhouse floor.
”Yes. Go ahead.” Giselle tipped her head toward Jude, closed her eyes, and held her breath. The brush of warm fingers to cup the sides of her face briefly preceded the light peck of pressure against her forehead. Jude kept the kiss swift and tender, repeating the action while nestling into her hair.
Thank goodness Giselle used her good shampoo last night. Hopefully, she still smelled of citrus and flowers after spending hours surrounded by rain and damp soil.
”Is that okay?” asked Jude.
”More than okay. I”m comfortable with those.”
”How about if I kiss your hand?”
”That”s definitely okay.” Giselle offered her hand to him and closed her eyes again, feeling the feather-light touch of Jude”s lips against her hand. She shivered. How long had it been since she had such shameless affection given to her without asking for it?
”How was that?” Jude”s voice dipped into husky territory yet again, and Giselle shifted on the loose balance of her knees. She nodded, at a loss for words.
”Good. A cheek kiss would be next, right?” she asked.
”We don”t have to go that far. . . if you”re not ready.”
”I”m ready. Don”t worry, I”m a big girl.”
”I”ll always make sure you”re comfortable, Giselle. It”s the bare minimum of what a decent partner should do.” With her eyes still closed, Giselle felt the touch of Jude”s hot breath before his lips brushed against her cheek. The kiss stretched the longest by far, or perhaps her imagination played tricks on her.
Giselle”s eyes fluttered open when Jude pulled back, ready to give him her approval. But she blinked, and his presence still lingered, leaning toward her. Similarly, she pushed forward with her palms splayed out on her skirt.
”Anything else you want to try?” Giselle asked, losing her nerve halfway through her sentence and biting hard on the inside of her cheek. She never realized Jude”s eyes had flecks of green buried in the rich, earthy shade of brown before. . . but she never sat so close to him, not like that.
”We”ll probably have to kiss at some point. On the mouth.”
”A fair assessment, Mr. Beauregard. Want to practice?”
”We should. At least once.”
”How romantic.”
”Move aside, Romeo,” Jude murmured. His hand reached out, tenderly grazing his fingertips up her cheekbone. His eyes wandered from hers and settled on her mouth, but Giselle couldn”t move. She followed his lead, intently fixated on him soaking her in.
She tilted her head heavier into his hand, but the loaded silence between them crashed abruptly when the bell over the door in the other room chimed. A customer.
”Giselle? You in here?” Dakota”s honeyed Southern drawl floated through the open double doors between the main room and the greenhouse. Nerves exploded through Giselle”s body, and she scrambled backward.
Jude”s hands caught her, and he righted her before she cracked her head on the floor. He and Giselle exchanged eye contact and jumped to their feet. She grabbed his umbrella and handed it to him.
Giselle panted. “We should probably. . . wait, we don’t have to hide. That’s Dakota, and if she sees us together, James will know you and I are talking again.”
“I like the sound of that,” Jude whispered. “You go ahead to the front. I’ll grab my fig so you can ring me up.”
Giselle nodded, scurrying off through the doorway. As she entered the main room, she spotted Dakota”s strawberry blonde hair piled high into her favorite topknot, and the bright blue raincoat pulled on.
”Dakota!” Giselle greeted breathlessly. “Thanks for coming! Let me ring up this last customer before we head out.”
She leaned on the counter behind the register, eyes focused on the greenhouse’s doorway. But a small smile twitched at her lips as Jude’s footsteps approached. She was now a taken woman.