Page 6 of Tangling with the Boss

Leo sighs and takes my elbow again, tugging me into a small, cool store. “If I’d known, I’d have picked somewhere else,” he says. “Tell me if you need to leave.” It takes three long seconds of blinking around us before I realize what he’s talking about.

Because: flowers.

Tubs and tubs of flowers, all freshly cut and fragrant. This whole store is an explosion of color, with delicate petals, green leaves, and the scent of damp soil. My heart climbs into my throat as I peer around us, struck dumb by this magical cave.

It’s so beautiful in here, and Iloveflowers. What kind of monster doesn’t?

But what on earth is Leo Corbin, hater of all gifts, doing in a florist’s shop? And why amIhere, called out on this urgent errand?

Ooooh no.

My stomach twists. There is one obvious reason.

A woman in a sky-blue apron bustles out of a backroom before I can ask, wiping her hands on a dishtowel. She’s in her forties, with a kind mouth and generous curves, and black hair scraped back into a low bun.

Her gaze sweeps over Leo first, then me, and her eyes crinkle with pleasure.

“Oh, I love appointments like these,” the florist says, striding forward. Her name badge says ‘Hi! I’m Renata.’“Half the time, these men don’t care a fig what their girlfriend’s favorite flower is. They just want me to pick so they get the brownie points, as though I can guess from nothing! But bringing you here—that’s much better.” She winks at me, and heat floods my cheeks. “You’ve got a good one here. Make sure you hang onto him.”

“Oh… no…”

This is so embarrassing.

“The full experience, please,” Leo says, flashing a dark card before placing it on the sales counter. His cheeks are as pale as ever, with no hint of a blush, so I guess this isn’t awkward as hell forhim.Must be nice.

“Is this for the party tonight?” I whisper as Renata marches to a display of roses, humming over the thorny stems. They rustle in the bucket as she picks out the prime flowers. “Because I planned decorations. It’s all taken care of, I swear.”

But hopefully that’s it. Hopefully this man is not about to trample on my heart like a big, clumsy carthorse.

Leo fiddles with his shirt cuff. “No, it’s not that.”

“Then why—?”

Pale blue eyes turn on me, rooting me to the spot. “Can’t a man buy flowers?”

“But—”

“I can,” he interrupts, dark eyebrows spearing down. “I can buy whatever the hell I like. And for the next two weeks, you still work for me, Hazel. Correct? You’ll still do what I say. And the task I want you to complete is to pick out your favorite flowers.”

My hands ball into fists. This jerk! I swear to god.

“I’m waiting,” Leo says.

Waiting. Scowling. Planting his feet and folding his arms, like he’s ready to wait me out for hours if necessary. Like months could pass and the seasons could change outside this store, and he’d still be here, glaring down at me. Ugh.

Fine. Fine! I whirl around and stare blindly at a bucket of tulips.

“It would help if I knew what your woman is like so I can pick.” Renata makes a small noise of dismay, but I can’t look in her direction. Can’t stand to see the disappointment—or worse, pity—in her eyes. “Or Renata could tell you. She has more experience with this than I do.”

There’s a long pause. Leo coughs once, then steps closer to my back. “Hazel… the flowers are for you.”

Sunshine spreads through my veins, even as my brain throbs with confusion.

“So they’re a goodbye gift?”

When I turn back, Leo is scowling at a tub of yellow dahlias, his stern mouth twisted in distaste. He straightens when I look at him, and then we’re staring at each other. Lost.

The air changes. Gets thicker.

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