Page 14 of Coming Up Roses

Myla Rose

I’m still standing here,at my station, staring after Cash as he checks out at the front desk. I’ve never been so . . . affected by anyone. He just, damn. He riles me right up, winking and saying my name with that deep, sexy voice of his.

Good Lord. He’s a deadly combination of big, tall, and charming. Shaking off the fog he left me in, I grab the broom and begin sweeping up his hair. The bell on the door dings, and I hear his deep voice tell Seraphine, “Have a nice day, ma’am,” and I swear she lets out a dreamy sigh. I mean, I can’t fault her. Who wouldn’t? I release a long breath and head to the back to try and get myself together before my next appointment.

AzzyJo corners me in the dispensary. “Myla Rose! Who on God’s green earth was that?”

“No one. I mean, a new customer. That’s all.” I refuse to meet her eyes. She’ll see right through me. “Nothin’ special.”

“Then why are you acting so strange?” She eyes me, keeping her distance but never taking her gaze off me. She’s appraising me, like I’m a feral cat and she is waiting for my claws to come out.

“I’m not. You’re imagining things.”

“MYLA ROSE!” Seraphine barges through the door, panting like she’s just run a damn marathon.

“Good Lord, Seraphine. Everything okay?” AzzyJo asks, startled. Seraphine is young and fit as a fiddle. If she's winded . . .

“Yes, yes. Sorry. I just, um . . .” She’s fidgeting, which isn’t like her. Seraphine's usually cool as a cucumber.

“Come on, Ser, what’s up?” I search her deep brown eyes why she’s acting crazier than a loon.

“I just wanted to give you your tip from your last client.” Seraphine holds out her hand, and a fifty-dollar bill is sitting pretty in her palm.

“No. I think you’re confused. All I did was a cut.” My eyes are so wide with surprise they feel like they’re going to bug out of my head.

“Nope. Not confused. This is your tip.” She thrusts the money toward me. “Take it.” I tentatively reach out and grab the money, slipping it into the pocket of my apron. “See, wasn’t so hard.” She smiles triumphantly and heads back to the front desk.

“Just a new customer, huh?” AzzyJo taunts, taking measure of my response. “Must have made quite the impression, Myla Rose.” I shrug my shoulders, ignoring her. The more I say, the more Azalea will pester me. Like a dog with a bone, she won’t give up.

“I’m sure he was just being overly nice since he got in last-minute and all.”

“I don’t care what it was. He's a gorgeous, gorgeous man. Next time he comes in, you should get his number.” Her eyes are shining, like this is the best idea she’s ever had. Hate to burst her bubble, but . . .

“Get real. That man doesn’t wanna play house with me. He could have his pick of the ladies here, and I’m just . . . well, there’s more than just me.” She looks at me like I have lost my damn mind.

Obviously, though, I’m the only one of us with any sense.

“You know, some men don’t mind. My Pops loved me like I was his. Didn’t care one bit that my mother had me—took us as a package deal.”

“I get that, I do. Your Pops is a good man, and there are a lot of good men out there, I’m sure. I’m just not interested, okay? Right now, I just need to focus on me and my little bean.”

She rolls her eyes, her disbelief evident. She opens her mouth to go on some more. “Listen, Myla—”

I hold up a hand to silence her. I know just how to end this conversation. “Did I tell you that I might be able to find out the gender at my appointment next week?”

“NO! You did not tell me!” She throws her arms around me and squeezes. “I am so . . . AHH! This is amazing! I cannot wait to find out. Then I can start planning your shower, and buying things, and we can go look at paint for the nursery, and—”

Somehow, this hug has turned into her bouncing. And she is shaking me right along with her. I gently remove her arms from around me and take a step back. “AzzyJo. Take a breath.” She does, followed by a few more. “That’s right, in through your nose. Calm down.” She just rolls those green eyes. I swear, she'd bring home gold if eye-rolling were an Olympic sport.

“Sorry, I’m just excited. You know how I get.”

Yes, I surely do. After a lifetime of friendship with Azalea Josephine Barnes as my personal cheerleader, I know exactly how much energy she puts into everything. The girl practically radiates sunshine.

“I know, and you’ll get to do all of those things, promise. Let’s just take it slow. We have plenty of time.” I offer a smile to reassure her. “In fact, let’s talk about it a bit more over tacos tonight.”

She squeals at the mention of our dinner plans. “Yes! Let’s do that.” I nod and start toward the doorway to head back to my station when she calls out, “Oh! I forgot to tell you, I invited Simon too. Is that okay?”

“For sure. You know I love Simon. Is D coming too?"

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