by CJ Turner
“What? I want a lobster salad. And five grand is your clothing allowance for one day. I think you can double up on clothes a few days out of the year.”
“Are you accusing me of being a clothes horse?”
“There’s no sense in acting outraged at the suggestion. Where did you get those shoes?”
“What shoes?” He spoke with the feigned innocence of a criminal caught robbing a bank.
“The ones on your feet.”
“These old things. Just something I slipped on.”
“Liar. They’re Berluti Scrittos, and they are brand new. What does the scoring on the leather say?”
Theo looked out the window. When he saw them last summer in Rome, he made note of purchasing them but it was not urgent. Then with the expenses of his nascent business, his trust fund money dipped low. The shoes were a final spurge on a budget he must nurse for the rest of the year.
“It’s a secret.”
“It is not.”
“They’re from an eighteenth-century French letter that Olga Berluti bought at an auction house. The words don’t matter. It’s how the words are written, with rare elegance, that’s important.”
“I don’t understand you. Some days, you toil away in that workshop of yours building low-end kitchen cabinets out of water bottle plastic, and others you put Armani to shame.”
Theo gazed out of the window and wished Livvy didn’t make him the focus of her attention. She’s been on edge ever since the engagement. So he agreed to spend the summer in Waterside. Both families decided that Livvy, who had always been high-strung, would be calmer with Theo around while his cousin Carlton, her fiancé, worked on a business deal in France. The two families spun out a series of parties to celebrate the joining of two great family fortunes. You would think it was a business merger instead of a marriage. No wonder she was ready to lose it.
The cab pulled up at the inn, and he paid the driver.
“Swing back in an hour,” he said.
“Sure thing, Mr. Collins.”
Livvy pouted. “A measly hour?”
“Be good, and we’ll have champagne with our lobster salads.”
“Oh, if you’re springing for champagne, too…” Her green eyes sparkled, and she smiled her most charming grin. Theo couldn’t help but return it. He had loved her since they met when they were five on Waterside Beach. Theo’s first memory of Livvy was her dumping a pail of water on his carefully arranged plastic soldiers, ready to deal death to their enemies.
“I rained on your soldiers,” she had giggled. That was the first time those emerald orbs flashed at him. She ran away, blonde hair flying, and he chased her.
At seven, he had announced to his parents that he would marry her, but by age twelve, after his first crush on Waterside Beach’s male lifeguard, he realized that was impossible. It tugged at his heart to tell her that he loved her only as a sister. Livvy huffed and claimed she knew all along.
“Besides,” she announced with the surety of a girl denied nothing, “I’m marrying Carlton.”
And now, sixteen years later, she was.
The Waterside Inn hostess seated them near the hearth, which at high summer, was not lit. Theo ordered immediately, disdaining the usual dance of server and guest, drinks, then waiting, then placing the order and waiting again. He said an hour, and Theo meant it. He wanted to be alone, though desiring solitude was rare and odd for him.
Livvy chatted from minute one about the wedding’s different details while nibbling from the small crudité plate the waitress automatically brought. Though rude, Theo brought out his phone and stared at it, though there were no messages. He didn’t know why he expected there would be.
Did you think the florist would call you on a pretense to suggest a night on the town?
He did. Men were forever throwing themselves at him, mostly because of his money. He didn’t lack for companionship when he wanted it. Why did he obsess over a shop clerk?
What’s wrong with you? he thought.
“What is wrong with you?” pried Livvy. His head jerked up at her echo of his inner thoughts.
“Nothing,” he said. Theo spoke much too quickly, and that was a mistake.
She waved a tiny carrot stick at him and pounced.
“Don’t lie to me, Theo Collins. I know all your secrets.”
“You do not know all of them. That would be weird.”
The waitress brought the champagne, giving Theo a break from Livvy’s interrogation. But as soon as the young woman left, Livvy began again.
“You have that look on your face.”
“What look?”
“You know that look. Like you’re about to dive into a rabbit hole after some guy. That’s the expression you wore when you met Armand.”
Theo restrained a groan. Not the Armand warning again. Yes, Armand was a spectacular mistake, and the worst of it was Theo fell hard for him. Armand matched the antique definition of a gigolo to a T. Or geisha. It was hard to know with him which way he’d swing until Theo found him playing geisha to someone else. Theo had no desire to hash over old humiliations.
“Excuse me. I need to use the men’s.”
Livvy clicked her tongue at him in disapproval as he left the table. She knew all his escape artist tricks.
Being an early twentieth-century “summer cottage” of one of New York’s once-famous families, the men’s was the first-floor bathroom of the two-story hexagon building. Theo shut the door and put his back to it, having no intention of unzipping his chinos and doing business here. From the chub that formed thinking about the florist, that would be a mistake. He just needed a minute away from Livvy’s well-intentioned prying to pull himself together.
Theo splashed cold water on his face, and his hands prickled against his midday stubble. He closed his eyes at the thought of the florist’s stubble against his face and sucked in a deep breath. Theo shoved the thought away. Such ideas would do him little good with the Mistress of Interrogation sitting at his lunch table.
As he reached the hostess station, the woman called his name.
“Mr. Collins?”
He stopped in his tracks. “Yes?”
“I have your bill ready. I know that you like to take care of it early.”
“Yes. Quite right.” Paying ahead was a habit he had cultivated to make leaving the table less fraught with bill grabbing. He hated that. Not that he had to worry about Livvy snatching the check but he signed the slip and left an appropriate gratuity.
By the time he returned, the lobster meat salads were on the table. Livvy gave him a piercing glance as he sat.
“You shouldn’t have waited,” he said.
“Of course, I would.”
He turned the dish containing the cruets of different dressings and frowned.
“Sorry. They’re out of the Brown Butter Vinaigrette. They do have the Creamy Lemon Garlic.”
“I don’t like Creamy Lemon Garlic dressing,” he said almost in a growl.
“You should try it.”
“No,” he said, too curtly.
“You don’t need to get testy.”
“Sorry,” he said. “I’ll go without.”
“What has got you in a mood?”
He let out a small sigh.
“Nothing. Busy day.”
“Not for you. And you were fine until we went into that last flower shop. Wait. The dog. You really liked him. Do you want a dog, Theo?”
Theo stared at his salad, wishing his best friend would, for once, shut her mouth.
“No.”
“Then, if it’s not the dog… Wait. The florist. Are you crushing on the man that took our order? Oh, Theo. We’ve talked about inappropriate infatuations.”
Theo had had enough. A ball of pure annoyance erupted in his stomach. Theo pushed back his chair and stood.
“Do you know what your problem is, Livvy? You have no problems, so you keep trying to dig them out of other people.”
Livvy’s eyes opened wide wit
h shock.
“Sit down,” she said in a hushed tone. “People are staring.”
Theo quickly scanned the room to find that his little drama had captured the dining room patrons’ attentions.
“Then that should make you happy to have the room center theirs on you.”
“Theo!” she complained.
“Take the cab home. I’ll call ahead and pay for it. I’ll walk.”
“Wait, Theo.”
But he strode from the dining room and out of the Waterside Inn with quick steps. After about a mile, and halfway home, the anger that shook him had dissipated, and he realized then it would take more than a fuckton of flowers to make up with his best friend.
What price will you pay this time, Collins?
Chapter Three
Lennox
Lennox balanced on the store's rickety wood ladder on a mission to tighten the tension of the ancient door closer. Unfortunately, the screw was too worn for the job. He clicked his tongue on the roof of his mouth as he debated various solutions. He could locate a replacement screw on an online store. Waterside lacked mundane retail like a hardware store. Lennox could remove the door closer, but the painted-in screws in the doorframe made that impossible.
The ladder swayed under him as he contemplated the best solution when his phone rang, and he jumped. The ladder tipped, and his heart stuttered as he fought to regain his footing. The phone wouldn't stop ringing, so once he defeated death, he set the screwdriver precariously on the ladder and thumbed on the call.
“Hey, buddy. How's it shaking?”
Lennox rolled his eyes. Over the phone, that rat Elias would not spot Lennox's annoyance with him. And maybe he should.
“Your grandmother is not back yet.”
“Did she slip her leash again?”
Lennox gasped at Elias' irreverence.
“You're not concerned? She's visiting the doctor. Again. And she's been talking about her heart more than usual.”
“Grams is fine. She usually is. Give her a kiss for me.”
“Elias—”
“Listen, I can’t talk long. Finn is waiting for me. But his brother, Luka, is hanging out in New York and I thought—”
Oh, brother. Elias made it his mission to hook up Lennox with some friend of a friend. Lennox didn't want to date. Penniless and no recognizable name in the art world, he had little to offer. Lennox might score a one-night stand. After that, he experienced what he called the Fizzle and Ghost Syndrome. Better for Lennox to concentrate on his goals.
“My dearest friend—no.”
“No need to travel to the city. Luka is visiting some friends in one of the Hamptons.”
"Uh, huh," said Lennox skeptically. "Which one?"
"I don't remember.”
“Well, that's definitive. I'll send a guide dog to lead this marvelous mystery man to my side.”
“How is Bonkers?”
Bonkers, with his doggy ears, heard his name mentioned and bounded to the ladder and barked.
“There he is. Hello, boy.”
“Don't deflect.”
“It would be awesome if you hooked up with Luka. If you two hit it off, we might have a double wedding.”
“Oh, my god,” Lennox whispered under his breath in disbelief. Whatever pheromones Elias had breathed went to his head.
“Now, you're delusional. Are you anywhere close to getting engaged to this Finn guy?”
“He is not ‘this Finn guy.'” Elias let just the right amount of pique show in his voice to communicate how much Lennox pinged his heart.
What an actor.
“Where are you now?”
“Switzerland.”
Oh, good lord. Elias had only traveled one-third of his itinerary.
“That explains it. The lack of oxygen from thin mountain air affects your thinking.”
“You don't need to insult me,” Elias said with an offended tone.
“It seems I should. Come home.”
“When I visit all of Europe.”
“Do that, but don't make dates for me. I have plans.”
“Oh, plans? What are they?”
Oh hell. Now Lennox had to make his lie true. He raked his memory and hit on an event he saw online.
“I'm attending an art show tonight.”
“Where?” Elias sounded inordinately interested, and Lennox gleaned the man was about to pounce.
Lennox scrunched his eyebrows together in consternation. There was only one art gallery in the town. Growing up in Waterside, Elias knew it.
“Don't ask silly questions.”
“Good, he’ll meet you there.”
“Wait—”
“Bye.” Elias clicked off.
“Damn,” said Lennox. There seemed no way to derail this train wreck.
The store’s phone rang, and Bonkers started barking. This was unlike his pup, and he wondered what got the pug upset. Quickly he climbed down and snatched the phone on the last ring.
“Pearson’s Flowers,” said Lennox.
“Oh, thank God. I thought you had closed for lunch.”
“Can I help you?”
“It’s Theo Collins. I’m afraid I must order more flowers from you. Livvy and I had a tiff, but you don’t want to hear that, do you?”
No. Lennox most definitely did not. The wild thought crossed his mind that if Theo and Livvy broke up, he might take a crack at swinging Theo to Lennox’s team.
Stop it, you fool. They love each other. Every couple fights.
“I’m afraid I can’t make deliveries right now. I’m alone in the shop.” And the van might not start, and Lennox wasn’t sure he had enough flowers to fill an extravagant order.
“No problem. I’ll send over the cab, and they’ll deliver for me.”
I’m sure they would. Theo Collins could buy whatever he wanted.
“Great. What do you want?”
“What’s good when you’ve said something horrible that she’s not likely to forgive lightly?”
“You’re asking me?”
“You’re a florist. I’m sure you speak the language of love every day.”
Lennox opened his mouth to correct Theo. And then didn’t. Lennox was an artist. He should be able to tease apart a heart’s desire.
Oh, yeah? Why haven’t you teased out yours?
Lennox ignored the uncomfortable question and concentrated on making the sale. He glanced in the flower cooler and counted the roses. Yes, he had just enough.
“Two dozen red roses usually does the trick.”
“Great. And put the flowers in a nice vase.”
“Sure. What about chocolates? Usually goes a long way to sweetening a woman’s sour mood.”
What do you know about sweetening a woman’s mood?
“Perfect,” said Theo enthusiastically. “How long will it take to get it ready?”
“Give me forty-five minutes.”
“Awesome! Watch for the taxi then.”
“Let me total the order.”
“I’m not worried about that. Thanks, Mr. Pearson.”
“I’m not Mr. Pearson,” he said.
“Oh, I thought—”
“My name is Lennox. Lennox Sewell.”
“Great to meet you. Just put the total on my card. You should have the information. I’ll let you get back to work. Thanks!”
And as quickly as he called, Theo Collins hung up the phone. Bonkers chose that minute to whine in distress and gazed at Lennox, who swore the pup appeared unhappy.
“Are you okay?”
Bonkers wagged his curly tail, and Lennox shrugged. “Do you need a walk, boy?”
Bonkers put his head on his paws, unexcited about the idea of a stroll.
“When Mrs. Pearson gets back, we’ll go get lunch.”
Bonkers sighed and settled on his bed.
Lennox pulled together the order and arranged the flowers the best he could. He had watched Mrs. Pearson when she worked and knew what to do. Roses were easy, which is why
he suggested them. Greens and baby’s breath completed the arrangement. He almost forgot the chocolates and grabbed the most oversized box they had as the taxi drove up.
Mrs. Pearson got out of the cab, and her eyes went wide as she saw Lennox bounding from the store carrying the vase of roses and the chocolates.
“What?”
“Excuse me.” He poked his head inside the cab. “Are you here to pick up Theo Collins’ order?”
With that settled, he turned toward Mrs. Pearson, whose face held an astonished expression.
“You told me to use my preternatural psychic powers, and I did.”
“You sold two dozen roses to Theo Collins?”
“No. I sold $5,200 worth of flowers. I hope you can fill the order because they need them delivered this Saturday, which is why they paid in advance.”
Mrs. Pearson blinked, and her face drained of color. For a minute, Lennox thought she’d faint, but then she shook her head and smiled.
“You continually amaze me, Lenny,” she said.
Okay, but don’t call me Lenny.
Mrs. Pearson insisted on giving him a commission for the sale. “You must help, though. But I’m sure you can handle it. You have a good eye for color and composition.”
It stunned Lennox that she immediately wrote out a check for five hundred and twenty dollars. While taking Bonkers for a walk, he stopped at the ATM to deposit the check and impulsively retrieved forty dollars. A surreal sensation stole over him as he stared at the bills because he hadn’t this much cash in hand in forever.
Bonkers barked and gazed at him expectantly.
“Right, buddy. It’s a full bag of doggie cookies for you, and a deli sandwich for me. We feast tonight!”
Sitting in the park, he wolfed half the sandwich while taking swigs from lemonade in a glass bottle. It was the only drink in the deli cooler that wasn’t in the hated plastic that polluted the oceans. Lennox, who usually lived on rice and beans, had almost forgotten the taste of meat. Bliss stole over him as he savored each bite even if the sandwich had too much mayonnaise.
Bonkers gazed at him expectantly, and Lennox tore a piece of ham from the club sandwich. The dog scooped it with his tongue and swallowed, then stared at Lennox for more.
“Nope. I know that look. You want the bacon, but it’s bad for you. I know, because it’s bad for me, too. And one of us must stay healthy, so it might as well be you.”