Page 114 of Playing Flirty

“I don’t think you understand,” I said into the phone as I walked back down to the car. “I need to see him. When is the earliest I can see him?”

“Sit tight. I’ll pass on your message, but just go home and… wait. Just a bit longer.”

I ended the call and went straight to my apartment, where everyone was still huddled around the candles.

My mind was clearer than it had been in ages.

I gobbled down half a pizza while wearing a blanket as a cape after my mother helped me pin it on. I was not far from twenty-seven years old, with no money and no prospects, and I was not frightened. Not in the least. For the first time in my life, I knew exactly what I wanted.

I wanted William Ashdern. All of him. Every last bit of him.

And I hoped he wanted me too.

“Rosie,” my mom called, “if we’re going to finish the last of these candles, I’ll need more of your help. Remember when we made candles together when you were nine or ten?”

“I was five, but yes.” I joined her at the kitchen counter. “Don’t these usually go faster?”

“Mm-hmm, but I’ve decided to write ‘Shaun & Neema’ and their wedding date on each jar.”

“Mom,” I whined, “that’s going to take forever.”

“Well, I already started on the jars, so I have to follow through.” She smiled down at her own work. “Look at my darling calligraphy.”

I opened the scented oils, breathing in the familiar scent of pine and lavender. It reminded me not only of my childhood but also of William. It was as if I’d walked straight into William’s familiar arms.

“Mom, this smell, it’s amazing. I want a few candles for myself, please.” I pictured William as I spoke, thinking about the way I felt around him. Not only the way he made my body feel, but how happy I’d been. HowmeI’d been. It blew my mind how William had etched himself into my every fiber in such a short space of time.

My mother narrowed her eyes. “You’re a clown, you know that?”

“It’s a compliment, Mom. I like this smell. Is it pine and… lavender?”

“Wrong. Rosemary and lavender. It’s your signature scent, Rosie. There’s a subtle difference, but I thought you’d know it. We had rosemary-and-lavender-scented everything when you were growing up.”

I didn’t hear anything else she said because all I could think about was that William smelled of rosemary and lavender.

“How’s work been, sugar?” my dad asked while scrolling through the daily news. “I’m glad you’re using your vacation days.”

Neema burst out laughing.

I grinned. “I forgot to tell you that I resigned, and my last day was Friday. So I’m actually unemployed.”

My mother wrapped her arms around me as though I’d announced I’d been promoted. “Oh, Rosie! I’m so pleased and proud of you—for doing what’s right by you.”

“Mom, you don’t know the half of it.”

If my sweet-natured mother ever found out about Mr. Markham, I was fairly certain he would mysteriously disappear.

“I also rejected Patrick’s proposal today,” I added.

My mom pulled me in for another hug, tighter than the last.

“I knew you would,” Neema said.

“How?” I fiddled with the wick of the candle in my hand.

“You may be able to fool yourself, but you can’t fool me.” She beamed.

“I knew too.” My mom nodded. “Patrick wasn’t the one.”

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