Page 31 of Remember Me

“Oh! I’ve been here before, then. I thought it seemed to call to me as I stopped outside.” She gave me a friendly, if uncertain smile. I guess my statement was a bit odd. “I was just passing by and your sign caught my eye. I’m interested in the job if it’s still available.”

A shadow passed over her face as she looked at me over the rims of a pair of tortoiseshell glasses. Then she seemed to gather herself. “I see. Well, do you know anything about flowers? Or…decorating?” She made a vague gesture at a display of signs. They were similar to the quotations on the wall, with sayings painted in a scripty font on a plain wooden background. I walked a little closer and studied them. There was something familiar about them. The wood looked like it had been covered in a pale sheen of paint that had then been distressed. They were tagged with a plain piece of cardstock tied with ribbon, reading simply “Scripted.”

I shook my head a little, fingering the tag. “Honestly? I have no idea.”

At her eyebrow raised in inquiry, I explained the circumstances surrounding my memory loss. “So, truthfully, I don’t know if I’ve ever worked with flowers. But I’m a quick study —”

“You assume so, anyway,” came the teasing reply.

I laughed and crossed the fingers of the hand still in my pocket. “Exactly. I feel like I’m learning everything all over again. But this...” I gestured around the shop. “Something about it just called to me when I stood outside.”

She nodded briskly. “I understand that. And for that reason, I think we can certainly give it a test run. Say...a week? See how you do?”

“Thank you!” I felt like skipping. I got a job! “I promise you won’t regret it. I’ll be the best worker, I swear.”

She chuckled. “Can you come in tomorrow, nine A.M.?”

“Yes. I’ll be here.”

I floated out the door and down the sidewalk in the direction of the restaurant where I was meeting Hayes.

It was a newish one compared to other places on Main Street, done in weathered brick, reclaimed wood, and masculine hues. Through its windows I could see comfortable seating and dim lighting, and as with the flower shop, I felt comfortable after entering. I found Hayes standing beside one of the waitresses just past the foyer with benches. I paused to look for a moment.

She had come around to the public side of the hostess stand and was hovering much closer than she needed to, a manicured hand on his arm. She was tall and slender, with shiny blonde hair swept back in a perfect ponytail. They looked good side by side, despite the nerves I could see in Hayes’s stance. He shifted from one foot to the other, crossed his arms over his chest and then uncrossed them again. I wondered who she was, that she felt entitled to touch his arm.

I despised her on sight. The ugly flare of emotion took me by surprise, and I straightened to my full height, short though it was, and strode forward.

Her eyes flicked over and dismissed me in under a second, but her cheeks reddened.

“Hayes.”

With a start he turned. “Birdie, you’re here! I was just telling Ms. Hansen here about you. Serena is my teaching assistant, babe.” His eyes were slightly wild as he looked at me.

“Hmmm.” I pinned Serena with a glare. “Do you always grope your professors?”

She gasped and Hayes smiled a little. “Now, now, Mini. Play nice.”

“I’ll play nice when she stops touching what doesn’t belong to her.” I don’t know what had gotten into me. The part of my brain that filtered my responses was clearly broken.

“I’ll just show you to your table. I had Darcy put you in my section,” she answered without looking at me.

Fantastic. “Peachy,” I said aloud, resolving to watch my food for spit.

Hayes leaned forward, elbows on the table, as she walked away after seating us. “That was damn hot.”

“I didn’t do it to be hot. I did it because she was touching you.”

“And I’m yours.”

I looked at him over my menu. “Until I say otherwise. Who is she, anyway?”

“She’s no one. A student. Technically my TA, but not of my choosing,” he said.

“Hmmm.”

He closed his menu with a snap. “Spit it out, Smalls. What’s on your mind?”

“Nothing much.” With a flick, I opened and laid my napkin across my lap. “It’s just obvious that she has a thing for you.”

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