by Maise, Ella
He nodded and I smiled again. I couldn’t contain it for some reason. “That’s a really great idea,” he said.
I was still bouncing, smaller bounces, but still…I was bouncy.
His forehead creased and his eyes looked me up and down. “What’s wrong with you?” he asked, and I burst out laughing, unable to contain myself.
“Nothing, Jack.” I shook my head, keeping the smile. “Absolutely nothing. Too much coffee, maybe?” I walked around the fake flowers that were covering almost every available surface. “Come help me?”
“I’m not so sure about that.”
I got on my knees and grabbed a bunch of roses from the ground. “You always help me.”
His jaw clenched. “Yes. Yes, I do, don’t I?”
“So? You’re not gonna help because helping with flowers isn’t manly enough? I won’t tell anyone, promise.”
He looked around the shop, around the floor, taking in all the shades of pink. Then he sighed and took off his black coat, followed by the black suit jacket.
“You can sit on the chair,” I said when he looked around as if he wasn’t sure where he should go. After a moment of hesitation, he pulled up the closest one and sat down to my left, his back to the door. “Why are you on the floor?”
“I started on the chair, but it goes quicker from here. You can hand me a wire with every flower.” I grabbed the wires from my right and handed them to him. “Different shades, though, okay? Don’t give me the same shade or shape back to back.”
He looked so lost with a small frown on his face, I couldn’t help but feel something in my chest. He wasn’t uttering any objections so I didn’t feel the need to let him off the hook, not to mention I really needed his help if I wanted to get out of there before the sun rose. When he took out a wire from the package and bent down to reach for a fake—but beautiful—rose from the pile, I cleared my throat.
“Ah, aren’t you gonna…”
He met my eyes. “Am I gonna…what?”
I was an idiot. “Your sleeves…you always roll them up.” I was a gigantic idiot, but…it was always one of the highlights of my day, so why should I have to suffer just because he forgot about it? It was my daily forearm porn, and I had started to look forward to it.
His frown got a tiny bit deeper as he looked down to his wrists and then—thank you God!—he put down the rose and the wire in his hand and started the process. I watched him the entire time without him even noticing it. When he grabbed the rose and the wire again, holding them straight up in his hands, I couldn’t hold back my grin.
“Something funny I should know about?”
“Nope.” I shook my head. “You’re all dressed up. Did you go to your office today?”
“Yes.”
“Do you work every weekend?”
“Usually.” He paused. “I don’t have to go in on the weekends. I only do if I don’t have any other plans.”
I reached for the rose he was holding and secured it to the fake branch with the wire, making sure it wasn’t at the same level as the others. I wanted some of them to stick out and some to be farther back so it gave the illusion of a big explosion of roses blooming.
“Do you make plans with your friends?” I asked, not looking at him because I had to pick up my pace.
“My best friend moved to London. Work keeps me busy as it is.”
“You?”
“Me?”
“I haven’t seen any of your friends around.”
“Oh, I’m usually busy with work, too. To save money, I had to spend a lot of time at home and that doesn’t help you have a social life.”
After our admissions, we worked along in a comfortable silence, and with his help, it started to go a lot faster. I’d done a lot of it before he showed up, but it looked like we’d be out of there in an hour at most.
“Isn’t this something a florist would do?” he asked after quite some time.
I gave him a quick look then focused on the flowers again. “Yeah, but the budget thing, remember? I scrolled through Pinterest, watched a few YouTube videos, and read some blog posts, and I think it’s turning out just fine. I know the florists do it with fresh flowers sometimes, but that would be extremely expensive. Extremely. These look all right, don’t they? I mean, it’ll look better once it’s up and arched over the door, but…”
“It’s beautiful,” Jack said softly. It was soft enough that it got my attention, and I noticed his eyes were on me, not the flowers. “What are those for?” he continued, gesturing toward the yellow roses I had on the side farther from us.
“Oh, I’ll distribute them on the tables on Monday. Again, I can’t buy fresh flowers every week, so I’m gonna go with fake on those too. Hopefully, if things go well, I’ll upgrade to fresh roses on the tables in a few months and I’ll buy more plants to put around the place.”
His fingers grazed mine and I had the oddest feeling. Ignoring it, I kept working and secretly enjoyed every little touch, every little graze.
“You know I could lend you money, right? The place is mine, so it would be an investment, and since you’re going to pay me rent after the six month period has passed, I wouldn’t want you to close it down before that.”
I gave him an incredulous look. “Come on, Jack. Let’s be honest with each other—if I can’t make this place work, it’d work in your favor because you’ll get your hands on it faster. What did you say you were planning on doing with it? A restaurant?”
“I didn’t say anything.”
I was so curious, but he wasn’t giving it up. “Either way, thank you, but I couldn’t accept your money.”
An hour later, my fingers aching and a little scraped, I finally spoke up. “I think we’re done. This is it.” Groaning, I pushed myself up.
“Would you like to have dinner with me, Rose?” he blurted out.
“What?” I asked, looking at him with a puzzled expression as he stood up as well.
“Have you had dinner?” he asked instead of giving an answer.
“No. I think the last thing I ate was a small sandwich. I snacked on a few things, but not a full meal. But…” I looked down at myself and cringed. “I’m not really dressed for going out, and my hands…” Holding my arms out in front of me, I opened and closed my hands, looking at my red fingers. I hid them behind my back and tucked them into my back pockets, hoping they would warm up. “Would it be okay if we ordered in? If you don’t mind. If you have other plans, you don’t have to stay in with me.”
“I wouldn’t ask you to have dinner with me if I had other plans.”
“That’s true.” My mind was getting a little fuzzy.
Keeping an eye on me, he rolled down his sleeves, I really appreciated the view in silence. Then he grabbed his suit jacket from the back of the chair and put it on.
I just stood there in front of the flower arrangement, not sure what I should do next. It was dark outside so there was no way I could put it out and secure it before morning.
“Rose.” Jack interrupted my thoughts and I glanced at him. “Come on, let’s go home.”
“No, I should probably do…first I should…”
“Rose.” I looked at him again, meeting his eyes. “You’re going to crash soon. You’ve done enough. Let’s go.”
With perfect timing, my stomach grumbled, as if agreeing with him. I looked around again. “That sounds like a plan,” I mumbled, but I still didn’t move. “But maybe first I should clean the place up a bit.”
He ignored me completely. “Where is your coat?”
“In the kitchen. It must be in the kitchen.”
Wordlessly, he headed toward the back, walking around the huge rose explosion in the middle of the shop. I thought I heard him talk to someone on the phone, Raymond I think, but then he was back, and he was ordering me to put my arms into the sleeves. He pushed me all the way out, got the lights, even put in the code for the alarm, and locked everything up. With his warm hand on my back, he guided me down the road to
where Raymond was parked.
Why did I always feel so safe when he was near me?
“I think I leaned down a little too much for too long. I’m just feeling dizzy, but I’m fine.” As soon as the words left my mouth, I stumbled on something and Jack caught my arm before my face could hit the ground. “Whoa. Really dizzy.”
I remembered getting in the car and maybe saying hi to Raymond, but I didn’t remember how I got up to the apartment and onto the couch. When Jack woke me up with a hand on my shoulder, I was feeling extremely disoriented. He helped me up and gave me two slices of pizza. It was cheese, pepperoni, and black olives, and he ordered me to eat up, and eat up quick. I finished in two minutes flat and even asked for another slice.
I had no recollection of what we talked about, but I did remember mumbling my answers and then wishing him a good night before stumbling to my bed.
The number of times Jack Hawthorne smiled: zero. (BUT…it’s coming soon. I can feel it.)
Chapter Nine
Rose
It was finally Monday, the opening day I’d been waiting such a long time for, and now that it had arrived, I didn’t know how to contain my happiness or my anxiousness. One minute I was on the verge of hyperventilating just thinking about opening the doors enough that Owen and Sally had to force me to sit down, and the next minute I couldn’t stay still and felt like I was about to burst from happiness. Mostly, though, I was feeling sick to my stomach, worrying everything was going to go wrong and everyone was going to hate everything.
What if no one showed up? That had been the first thing I’d thought the moment I had opened my eyes that morning. What if no one walked in? My goal was to at least serve fifty coffees on the first day. That sounded like a fairly doable number.
“I feel like I’m about to lose my virginity,” I blurted out as Sally pushed a glass of water into my hands.
“Was it a good experience? Mine was pretty cool.”
“I mean, it was okay. No orgasms in sight, but at least it didn’t hurt much.” Owen grumbled something I couldn’t make out. “What did you say?”
“This place looks legit,” Sally said, ignoring him. “What you did with the flower thing is still blowing my mind. It looks so beautiful with the black exterior. The furniture, the colors—everything came together so nicely. You put out the flyers too. We’ll easily reach fifty coffees.”
When Sally left me and went to the kitchen, I got up from one of the chairs they had basically pushed me into, walked to the door to flip the closed sign to open, and just rested my forehead on the cool glass for a few seconds. Flipping that sign felt like I’d welcomed an elephant to come sit on my chest. People passed by. I even saw some of them stare at the roses as they walked by, but no one pushed each other out of the way to get in.
“Okay.” I sighed. “Now all we have to do is wait.” When I turned around, both Sally and Owen were standing in the doorway to the kitchen, Owen wiping his hands on a kitchen towel and Sally smiling and munching on a lemon bar. Taking the last bite, she walked up to the espresso machine.
“Would you like to have the very first latte of the day? I’ve been polishing my latte art skills.”
I let out a deep breath and smiled. “You know what, that’s a great idea. In fact, lattes all around, on me. We might need to drink forty-seven more today, but that’s not all that much, right? Death by caffeine is a real issue, but I’m sure we’ll be safe.”
We clinked our mugs together, at least Sally and I did and hoped for the best for the rest of the day. The first customer came thirty minutes after I’d flipped the sign from closed to open. Owen was in the back, but Sally and I were ready with our overly excited smiles plastered on our faces.
An hour or so had passed and we had a few more customers. Sally was preparing a second cup of cappuccino for the customer who’d come in earlier as she was looking through the food selection on the counter. She’d already had her free blueberry muffin, so she decided on a sandwich this time.
I grabbed a plate, lifted the glass dome, and picked up a turkey & swiss that was wrapped with parchment paper and secured with red twine. The bell on the top of the door rang, but I was busy taking payment so I couldn’t look away. After giving her the change and thanking her, I finally looked to my left, excited to greet a new customer.
And right there…right there standing with the most uncomfortable look on his face was Jack Hawthorne. I didn’t think I’d ever been that happy to see him before, but him being there so early, him just being there… The smile that broke out on my face was embarrassing.
“Jack, you came,” I managed to say softly, and even though he couldn’t hear me, his gaze dropped to my lips.
Before he could walk in farther, Raymond came in with an armful of roses and handed them to an unhappy Jack. My breath hitched and my smile brightened up a bit, taking it from embarrassing to a touch closer to manic. Jack’s expression, however, didn’t change.
Were they for me?
I begged my heart to stay calm as he walked toward me.
“There was a mix-up at the flower shop, and they couldn’t bring these themselves,” he said, and my smile faltered.
“I don’t understand. They’re from a flower shop?” I asked, my eyes going from the roses to Jack’s face in confusion.
His lips tightened and his brows drew together. “No.”
I waited. I could feel Sally standing just behind me, on my right, too.
Jack released a frustrated sigh. “They’re from me. You don’t have to use the fake stuff on the tables. It’s so the property looks good. That’s all.” He leaned forward and thrust the bouquet into my hands.
Feeling something weird and very much unexpected in my chest, I took them. There were maybe fifty or sixty long stemmed roses in every color—pink, white, yellow, peach—and they were all wrapped up in slightly shimmery brown paper. They were gorgeous, way more than what I would need for the tables, way more than anyone had ever bought me. Flowers would add no value to the property; that was plain and simple bullshit. These were for me.
I was still looking at the roses, taking them all in one by one, not sure what to say or how to say it, when I saw Owen put another plate of freshly baked blueberry muffins to my left. He whistled next to me, his shoulder barely touching mine.
“These are just for me,” I mumbled, almost to myself. “And they’re so beautiful, Jack. Thank you.” For some reason, I felt myself choke up, and my chest constricted. Hugging the bouquet with one arm, I pressed my palm against my chest where my heart was truly losing it. Sally cleared her throat, and I briefly glanced at her to see her raised brows and the expectant look on her face. “Oh, I’m sorry. I should introduce you guys. Sally, Owen, this is Jack. Jack, Sally and Owen.” My attention was still on the roses when I heard Jack’s gravelly voice as he introduced himself.
“Rose’s husband,” he said, extending his hand first to Sally and then to Owen. Goose bumps covered my arms, both because of the tone of his voice and the word itself. Husband. My husband.
“Yes, sorry. Jack is my husband.”
“Husband?” Sally blurted out in a slightly raised voice. “You’re married? You never said anything!” She grabbed my hand and inspected my naked ring finger. “No ring?”
I inwardly winced and sent an apologetic look Jack’s way, but he had his hands in his pockets and his eyes were on the food, his expression completely unreadable as always.
Sally was looking between Jack and me in bafflement.
“I took it off before I started baking. It’s in my bag. With everything going on, I forgot to put it back on.”
I was explaining it to Sally, but my eyes stayed on Jack the entire time. He looked up, and I offered him a small smile.
“It’s so beautiful,” I said, turning my gaze to Sally. “I keep taking it off when I’m working here because I don’t want to lose it. That’s why you didn’t see it before.”
“I need to get back. Congratulations on the marriage, Ros
e. Nice to meet you, Jack,” Owen said before giving my shoulder a quick soft squeeze and disappearing into the kitchen. Sally just stood there.
I looked up at Jack, he was staring at Owen’s back with a clenched jaw, but he averted his eyes before I could try to tell what he was thinking. Forcing myself out of this weird guilty feeling, I asked, “Would you like something to drink? Or eat?”
“Yes. I want fifteen…I don’t know, espressos, lattes, or just black coffee—whatever you recommend.”
“Fifteen?”
Finally, he looked at me. “I’ll take it to the office.”
“Do you have a big meeting or something?”
“No.”
Just one word, that one word… He was putting in a coffee order that big because he wanted to help me—again.
“Oh, Jack, you don’t have to do that.” This time I could feel the tears blurring my eyesight. It was going to happen. The edges of my lips started to tilt down, and I knew I wasn’t going to be able to stop it. “I’m going to hug you,” I blurted out.
A line etched between his brows and his eyes finally came back to me. “What?”
Gently, I put the flowers down on the counter and walked toward the end so I could make it to the other side through the small opening. Before he could process it and quite possibly stop me, I closed my eyes and threw my arms around his neck, rising up on my tippy toes. To be fair, my movements had been slow. I’d given him time—enough time to stop me if he really wanted to.
But he didn’t.
After the initial second or two, his arms came around me and he returned the embrace. I rested my temple on his shoulder, drew in his wonderful and dizzying smell and whispered, “Thank you, Jack, for everything. For the coffee shop, all the help, the flowers, the coffee order—everything. Thank you so much.” The tears made their way down my cheeks, and I slid my hands down from his neck and stopped when my palms met the lapels of his charcoal grey suit jacket. His arms dropped so he could push my hair away from my face and tuck it behind my ear. A shiver worked its way through my spine and I couldn’t move away from him.