It wasn’t that I didn’t want to help him, honestly. But if it were anything other than planning a wedding, I would be fine. I knew it would just remind me of Vivian and the shit she put me through. But I didn’t want to divulge all that with him. He didn’t need that negativity around his wedding.
“Will you do it?” He shoved me, and I feigned a glare before downing my second scotch. The bartender was on point with the refills.
“Buy me dinner, then I’ll decide.”
Chapter Eleven
Emilia
Every
morning was different since that night at the ball. I found myself checking my phone every morning for more than my email. I kept hoping he had somehow found me and had sent me a message saying he wanted to see me. But I was stuck in some impossible fairy tale.
I would get up and sulk over my coffee, wishing something remotely exciting would happen to me, but of course it never did. Then I would eat a sad bowl of oatmeal, go for a walk or run and then pull myself out of it. Because good things had come of that night as well.
My business.
I laced up my new shoes to go into work. Yeah, I had bought new shoes for the first time in months. It had been four weeks since that ball, one month and I had already done three other events. An anniversary, graduation ceremony, and a commencement address for the local college. Sasha was mostly to thank, she told me when anyone asked about the arrangement, she would direct them right to me.
“It was so beautiful, I knew you would do a good job. But that was amazing! I think it’s how I got so much money.” She laughed softly. Sasha had stopped by the next Monday, somehow looking at her made me think of that man and then I was blushing.
“Thank you. And thank you so much for the opportunity.” I smiled back at her.
She was walking through the new array of sunflowers; their bloom was pretty much perfect this time of year. She looked like she belonged in a garden with her fuchsia sundress on, and her long hair flowing on its own.
“Oh, please. You deserve it. Oh, I hope you don’t mind but a few of my friends asked about you and I gave them your number.”
My eyes widened in shock. That meant connections, people know about me. Of course, I didn’t mind!
“No, not at all. That is very kind of you.”
She grabbed two bundles of the flowers and came over to the check-out desk. I rang her up, but she always gives me the same amount; a crisp one-hundred-dollar bill. I learned a long time ago that protesting it wouldn’t do anything for me.
“It’s no problem. I loved that arrangement, I almost didn’t want to take it down.” She smiled, the corners of her mouth only slightly wrinkling.
“Was the event a good turnout though?” I asked her.
“Oh yeah, we surpassed our goal. Bryan and I were very pleased.” Bryan was her husband and partner in crime. When I saw them together, I envied her but in a good way. I wanted that; to one day be so happy next to the love of my life. It was obvious how much he loved her, the way he looked at her with such adoration.
“That’s amazing.” I wrapped up the flowers and tied them off with ribbon.
“Please, let me know if they call you. I’ll be back soon.” She waved over her shoulder as she headed out.
“I will, see you!”
She always came every week. The next time she came, I was preparing for the anniversary for a sweet, older couple. They said they were at the gala that night, and that the lilacs reminded me of their wedding. Of course, that brought my mind right back to that stranger.
I was currently free; all my events were finished. I hoped for another of course, but the last three exhausted me so I kind of just wanted to slow down. I took a long lunch and went to meet Ivy in the city. She worked in an office building and the design firm took up about ten floors. But there was a nice sky café we always went to there.
“Anything new today?” She asked me, furiously stabbing her salad with her fork.
“No. I’m still recovering from the last few weeks.” I told her.
She was doing well too, she had gotten a promotion to executive assistant. The only difference was a better pay and access to the dump closet. That’s what they call the room where they discard the old fashions. She was so good at her design though, that she managed to make the striped romper she wore look like it was still in style.
“I can imagine. More work will come too, you’re official. Have you gotten the business cards yet?” She gasped.
“Ugh, no. I keep forgetting to go to the post office! They’re just sitting there.” I laughed, not believing I was that tired and busy.