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Audrey shoulders a dark blue purse and rounds her desk headed toward the double glass doors that lea

d to the bank of elevators. Silently following her, I steal one last look at Liam.

Our eyes lock for the briefest of moments before he turns and starts back down the corridor, leaving the note and the flowers behind.

Chapter 4

Athena

An unexpected loud rap on the locked door of my floral shop sends the glass vase in my hand crashing to the ground.

“Dammit,” I whisper under my breath even though I’m the only one here.

I’m alone inside the store every morning until I unlock the doors at nine a.m. sharp. That’s when Leanna Pearsall arrives with two piping hot teas in her hands.

She’s a wizard when it comes to floral arranging.

Years of her life have been spent inside this shop. Leanna worked for the previous owner. Part of the sale agreement was that I’d employ Leanna for six hours a day, five days a week. Her husband, Al, handles all of the store’s deliveries when he pops by to pick up Leanna after her shift.

The rest of his day is spent being an Uber driver.

They balance their time so at least one of them is home when their three kids aren’t in school.

A quick glance at the clock on the wall keeps me in place.

There’s a sign posted on the door that clearly states when Wild Lilac is open for business. I use the precious early morning hours to work on orders and accept a daily delivery from my floral supplier.

That’s already happened, so the person still banging their hand against the door has to be an overly eager customer.

Just as I reach down to grab one of the large shards of glass, the phone sitting on the checkout counter starts ringing.

It jars me enough that I turn toward the sound quickly, too quickly.

A jagged corner of the piece of glass in my hand tears across my finger.

A single drop of blood falls on the white tile by my feet.

Pressing my finger into the palm of my other hand, I head for the checkout counter and the box of tissues that are always there.

Leanna was the one who suggested we have tissues available to customers. Ordering flowers can be an emotional experience for some people, especially those who are looking for a bouquet to send to a person who lost a loved one.

By the time I open my hand to grab a tissue, blood has pooled in my palm.

I outgrew my fear of blood somewhere around the time one of my younger brothers cracked his chin against the sidewalk in front of our townhouse.

I stepped up to the plate, dragging him back inside even though he was already five inches taller than me.

I cleaned the wound, bandaged it up, and took him to the hospital in a taxi.

He needed four stitches.

I deserved a medal for overcoming my fear of blood.

My seventeen-year-old self was proud that I’d played the part of a responsible adult.

Today, six years later, I’m still trying to master that role.

Some days are easier than others.


Tags: Deborah Bladon Romance