Page 75 of Cocky Choices: Zoe Cocker

Perry mutters, “Awkward is an understatement.”

“Nope.” Lexi’s green eyes flash. “Zoe has a choice to make.”

“I’m her choice,” I growl.

Lexi raises a red eyebrow. “Did she leave, or did she stay with you?”

THIRTY-FOUR

Zoe

“Zoe?” Caleb’s voice pulls me from my thoughts, and I blink to focus on his warm concern as he asks, “Are you alright?”

The soft glow of candlelight flickers between us, shadows dancing on an immaculately clean white tablecloth. My handsome fiancé sits across from me at the first cozy Italian restaurant we came across on our walk, one hand on the table, the other on his lap. He is exuding an effortless calm that I crave but can’t seem to absorb. Instead I sit across from him, stuck in a tornado of confusion and longing.

I manage a smile, a mask. “Just a bit tired from work, I guess.” The words come out like a lie, but they’re the safest option. I can’t burden him with the chaos swirling in my heart. Even with the inviting aroma of garlic and freshly baked bread filling the air, all I can taste is the lingering warmth of Tom’s kiss on my lips, a kiss that wasn’t supposed to happen. A kiss I never saw coming. One that melted me to my core.

Caleb nods, though I see doubt flicker across his face. His tone is gentle, “You have more time to finish the arrangements tomorrow, don’t you think? You should have taken it more easytoday.” He keeps talking, but how can I listen when Tom’s kiss echoes in my body? “Did you hear me?”

“What did you say?” I hurry to add, “Sorry.”

“I was saying it’s okay. You’re here with me now, and all you have to do is rest. You’ll feel better when we get some food in you.” Caleb elegantly waves down a passing server, and I recognize the woman.

Arriving at our table, she tilts her head while trying to place me in her memory. “Excuse me, do I know you?”

I remind her with a smile, “You bought a bouquet for your mother’s college graduation two-and-a-half month’s ago.”

“You’re the owner of Florist Shop! That’s right. Good memory!”

“College?” Caleb asks with friendly curiosity.

Our server explains, “My parents divorced late in life — should have a long time ago, if you ask me — and so my mom went back to school. Said she should have gone years ago but…better late than never!”

“Impressive.”

I nod my agreement with Caleb’s response and add, “I think it’s wonderful what she did, Stephanie.”

“Hey!” She lights up. “You remember my name, too!”

“I try to remember everyone who comes into my shop, but of course I’m not perfect at it.” Tucking a lock of hair behind my ear, I shrug, “You told me about your mom’s graduation. That kind of story makes it easier to stick inside my Swiss-cheese brain.”

A food-runner passes behind Stephanie making her step closer as she avoids him while saying, “I’ve been working at getting better with names. Hard to forget yours, now that we’ve placed where I remember you from! The Cocker family is super famous here in Atlanta.”

I grin, “Some of us are!” feeling more relaxed now that we’re talking about something as comforting to me as my family. “Maybe one day my little shop will hold a candle to what some of us have been able to achieve.”

“I love your shop!” Stephanie exclaims, waving one hand in its direction for emphasis. “Every time I walk by I try to invent a reason to buy more flowers. It’s so charming in there!”

Caleb offers, “After tomorrow, her name will be much more famous. She’s providing the floral arrangements for my father’s retirement dinner at the Four Seasons.”

Stephanie’s eyebrows rise. “That’s a beautiful hotel.”

“It’s a step up in the world.”

I stare at Caleb, and Stephanie shifts her weight like she can feel the air change between us. Or is that just my imagination? “Can I get you some wine?” she asks.

“No wine.” He folds his menu, and lifts mine from where it lay before me, handing them both to her. “Zoe will have the Spaghetti Carbonara. I’ll have the Bracioli. We’ll start with a Caprese salad and Bruschetta with two small plates. We’ll share. And for dessert, Tiramisu.” He glances to me, “Lemonade?”

“Yes, please.”

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