Page 24 of Love Arranged
Julian
Your car IS a road hazard.
Me
For who?!
Rafa
Anyone who might be drivingbehind you.
Me
Unlike some of us who have been in an accident recently, I’m a good driver.
Julian
That might be true, but your bumper does fall off if the tape gets too hot.
Me
You know what? Forget I asked for help.
Julian sends me a private message, apologizing for taking his joke too far before offering to pick me up in twenty minutes. I only agree because I can’t survive another walk across town in this weather, although my pride stings a bit at him calling my car shit.
Julian drives around in his dad’s old truck, so I expected him to understand my inability to let mine go, but I guess my Corolla doesn’t have the same appeal as the vintage truck he restored.
Dahlia, who never responded to the group chat, waltzes into my room. “I’ve got some new ideas for the expansion!”
My stomach drops, and my smile along with it, when I see the thick binder in her arms. It’s full of design ideas for Rose & Thorn’s spin-off business—a venture I dreamt up with her a few years ago.
She jumps into big sister mode as soon as she notices the look on my face. “What’s wrong?”
Everything, I want to answer, but the thought of talking to her about the condemnation notice feels impossible, and not because of the NDA.
The pressed-flower business has been on my vision board for three years, ever since I created an art piece for a client who wanted to preserve the bridal bouquet I made her, but it finally became an achievable goal once Rose & Thorn’s sweet, elderly neighbor offered to sell me her shop last month.
Now, thanks to Mayor Ludlow, there won’t be a store on Lavender Lane to buy anymore.
At least not forme.
After spending a year scouting locations around town and being outbid on multiple properties I loved, I can predict that finding a new one won’t be easy. Rental spaces are impossible to come by, and any available properties to purchase are way too expensive to justify the cost.
Hence my predicament.
I take a seat on the corner of my bed. “I’m stressed.”
“About the car?” So shedidsee our messages.
I nod.
She places the binder on top of my desk before leaning against it. “If you want, we can go visit some dealerships together this weekend. It could be fun to take a few out for a joyride…”
“I don’t want a new car.”
“No, but youneedit.”
My gaze drops to the carpet.
