Page 9 of Spring Fling

He stepped closer, scanning the sad remnants of my earlier arrangement. “I heard about the mishap,” he said softly. “I’m so sorry. That must be frustrating. Are you all right?”

The sincerity in his voice loosened the knot in my throat. “Yeah, I’m okay, just… rattled. Not sure how it happened. But I’m improvising.” I gestured at the half-revived ornamentation. “It’s nowhere near the original scale.”

He studied the piece, nodding. “Still looks great. You’ve got a knack for thinking on your feet.” His gaze lingered on me, and I felt a tingle. Memories of how his fingers had once massaged my feet—along with the rest of me—fluttered across my mind.

A swirl of conflicting impulses churned in my chest. My lips formed a tentative smile. “Thanks for checking on me. It means a lot.”

He hesitated, eyes flicking between me and the arrangement. “If you need an extra pair of hands, I’m here. My next talk isn’t until later.”

His offer touched me, but I bristled at the notion of leaning on him too much. “I appreciate it, but I think I have it handled. Might not be quite as grand, but I’ll survive.”

A heavy beat of silence settled, the tension between us intensifying. I wanted to ask about Ariana, but logic told me to keep quiet. Instead, I forced a small laugh. “Anyway, I, um… might want your opinion on some other pieces I have in the back. Maybe we can talk about them?”

He brightened, stepping closer. “Sure—”

A silky voice cut through our exchange: “Hay-den!” Ariana called from across the venue. Her tone was high and sweet, laced with easy confidence. She waved, beckoning him with a flourish. “They’re about to start the coverage for the next segment. Come on!”

My throat constricted at the flash of exasperation on Hayden’s face. He shot me an apologetic look, shoulders slumping. “I— I’m sorry. I guess they want me again.”

I swallowed the disappointment that rose in my throat. “It’s fine. Go.” My voice sounded clipped, though I tried not to let bitterness seep in. Ariana was well within her rights to claim his time if that was the sponsor’s plan. Still, it stung.

He gave me one last, regretful glance, then hurried off toward Ariana, who greeted him with a broad, possessive grin. My stomach churned. It didn’t matter that he looked uncomfortable; from where I stood, the scene implied they were a tight unit. My rational mind told me it was just business. My emotional side, however, suggested something different.

I watched them walk away together, Ariana’s lilac dress swishing around her tanned ankles while she leaned in to speak close to his ear. My chest felt a painful twinge.Why does this bother me so much?The accident had already put me on edgeand seeing them together again now threatened to unravel my composure. Swallowing my frustration, I steeled my mind.You have a display to finalize, Daisy Parker.Burying my feelings, I got back to work.

Chapter Six

Hayden

A few hours after the fiasco with Daisy’s toppled arrangement, I found myself pacing behind a sprawling greenhouse display near the center of the festival. My phone kept vibrating in my pocket, but I’d been avoiding calls most of the morning—especially ones that might rope me into more sponsor photo ops. All I craved was time to revise tomorrow’s horticulture lecture, maybe check on Daisy’s booth and apologize for not staying longer to help. Instead, I was dodging cameras left and right.

I snuck a look at the text messages while crouched behind a potted citrus tree:

Marlene:Hayden, urgent – Ariana’s manager reached out, they want dinner tonight. Sponsor arranged a big media table. This is prime PR.

Benton:Where are you? Ariana’s waiting. We have something special planned for your synergy. Don’t stand her up—this is big, trust me.

My teeth clenched.Special synergywas sponsor code for “forced date.” I recalled how Ariana had teased the possibility earlier—a staged dinner with paparazzi swirling like fruit flies. The mere idea made me want to vanish among the nearest rows of petunias. But the sponsor hammered home that if I played along, it might open more doors.Did I ask for bigger doors? Not really.I was a teacher at heart, plucked out of academia by random viral success. Now I had to schmooze?

A voice jolted me. “Hayden Brooks, exactly the man I wanted to see.” Ariana appeared from around a pallet of potting soil, striding over in a fitted pastel blazer and pencil skirt that screamed style over practicality. She looked every bit the ex-pageant queen: manicured nails, hair in a sleek twist, a glint in her eye that telegraphed unstoppable ambition.

I rose from my crouch, trying not to grimace. “Ariana. Didn’t expect to see you over here.”

She offered a practiced laugh. “I’ve been searching for you.”

She stepped in close, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “Tonight’s dinner is all set. The sponsor’s reserved a private section at the Brierwood Restaurant. Photographers fromMontana Lifemagazine will attend, plus a local news channel. Benton’s absolutely thrilled.”

The mention of paparazzi made my stomach knot. “I don’t recall agreeing to a dinner. Marlene texted me, but I haven’t given an answer yet.”

Ariana tilted her head, eyebrows raised as if baffled by my hesitation. “You’d turn down an opportunity to generate positive buzz for your brand? Benton believes we’re the perfect pairing—my flair, your substance. He’s even hinted at the possibility of a reality show pitch. Think about it: a blossoming romance between America’s Floral Sweetheart and horticulture’s new starplayed out in beautiful gardens and event venues highlighting my arrangements. Ratings gold.”

I swallowed the protest forming in my throat. The thought of presenting a staged romance repelled me, but Ariana’s buoyant tone suggested she found nothing odd about it. “I’m not comfortable faking a relationship,” I said quietly, scanning for an exit route in case she tried to corner me further. “I only came to Wintervale to give lectures and share practical knowledge, not to star in some reality show storyline.”

She let out a gentle, dismissive laugh that grated on my nerves. “Oh, you’re so earnest, Hayden. But that’s precisely why it’ll work, darling. You’re the down-to-earth cute single professor, and I’m the glamorous pageant girl turned lifestyle design queen. Opposites attract. That’s the angle they want to push, anyway.” She touched my arm lightly, adopting a coaxing tone. “Look, I get it—some folks cling to old-fashioned integrity. But the sponsor wants a little drama. Benton says if we play along, it could lead to bigger deals for both of us.”

My mind flicked to Daisy—her up-and-coming booth overshadowed by Ariana’s extravagance, the look on her face when she spotted us locked in a photo shoot. The last thing I wanted was to deepen that misunderstanding. I took a measured breath. “Even if it leads to a bigger deal, at what cost?”

Ariana waved away my concern. “Minimal cost. It’s just a bit of hand-holding for the cameras, maybe an affectionate gesture or two, dinners documented by the local press. Benton even said he has a budget for future cross-promotional events if we show decent chemistry. That’s how the industry works, darling. Remember? This is the big leagues.”

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