Page 232 of 7+Us Makes Nine

I got ready to leave and was in my car when Levi called me.

“Hey, how did it go?” It was after one, he probably thought I had already met with her.

“She didn’t show up, man. Gabriella even called me earlier and she sounded pretty bummed about it. I told her I would try and meet with her today again. But she isn’t answering her phone.”

“Shit. I don’t think any other florist would agree to this deadline. I emailed like six other places and no one would fit us in. She was it.”

“I know. I’ll try my best, just worry about your case. I’ll let you know if something is dire.”

“Thanks man, you are really helping me out. I gotta run.” He hung up.

I made a U-turn and headed back to the shop. Surely, she would be there by now, and if I cornered her in her work place, she definitely couldn’t run. If she did, she didn’t have any business running a shop. If I avoided every situation I didn’t want to be in back before I sold my company, it would never be worth millions of dollars.

I pulled up to the street and found a parking spot right out front. I strode into the shop; the door was open now as I expected. I heard something in the back, so I followed the noise. I didn’t want to be an intruding guest or anything, so I stayed by the counter.

In a matter of moments, she rounded the corner, and stopped in her tracks. It was the woman from the ball. The woman I have literally been dreaming about for weeks. The woman I have been going on and on about, wishing I could see her again.

And it was the florist that can’t answer her phone either. Her eyes met mine, and then the vase she was holding fell and shattered on the ground.

Chapter Fifteen

Emilia

The bride and I are on a tight schedule, so we need to meet today.

The word washed over me like an acid. Or worse, poison. It went right to my core, like it was piercing my heart. I almost wanted to cry and then I felt so pathetic for it.

We were not dating, and he surely didn’t owe me anything. But it still hurt. I had escaped to a small café around the corner. I needed something to calm me down, so I ordered some tea. That’s when I saw the call. I didn’t have to see into the future to know it was him calling me, following up on why I didn’t show up.

What I hated the most was that he made

me so unprofessional. I didn’t skip meetings, I didn’t blow people off or stand potential clients up. But here I was. Being an unprofessional florist. I knew I had to get my head out of my ass, but I needed a minute.

I spent a month literally dreaming about this guy. Waking up thinking about him, going to bed thinking about him, even pleasuring myself to him! He wiggled his way into my life at the oddest of times and then I had to run from him.

I supposed it was a good thing since he was fucking engaged. The man was about to get married and I am over here fuming over tea about him. I wanted to google ‘what to do if your crush is engaged,’ but I was not in high school anymore.

He called me again while I sat there, but I wasn’t ready to answer the phone yet. I had to get over this before I met him. It would be even worse if I was yelling at a client about being engaged when he was fucking me up against a wall. Or even worse, not being able to hold it together in front of his fiancée and then ruining two people’s lives. I couldn’t do that to them or myself.

So, I needed to fume. Gather my thoughts. Make up a story, and then get about the work. Being around my flowers would help. They were almost the same as being around my mother. I finished my hot tea and then walked back to the shop. I nervously cleared the corners before I kept going and entered the shop.

The smell hit me; lilacs and roses together are something out of a dream. I had put the lilacs in the front after the ball, remembering that it was his favorite flower. But now I just wanted them out of the way. I replaced them with purple daffodils, filling the vases with something new. I changed out the water and clipped the beads.

All the flowers needed to be clipped, it would take a while. But I was glad to do it. It was a welcome distraction. A few people walked in, I sold about two hundred dollars’ worth of flowers. Graduation season was the best for me, second to Christmas. I put on a friendly smile and served my customers. Why couldn’t I do that with the man from the ball?

Because he was buried so deep inside you, you forgot your own name.

It wasn’t until two that things slowed down, and I could finish up in the back. The bell of the door swung open with another customer. I smiled softly and grabbed the vase of lilacs to put next to the peonies.

But when I rounded the corner, it wasn’t just any customer. He stood by the counter, unseeingly tall amidst the flowers. The sunshine from the skylight fell right onto him, setting his hair aflame under the light, showing me the rigid lines of his muscles visible under the thin linen shirt. His thighs were thick and strong, his ass was perfect in those pants. My stomach clenched at the memory of him spreading my legs apart with those thighs. He had his hands in his pockets, the veins of his forearm leading right down to the seam of his pants. Why did he have to be so perfect? If he wasn’t so God damned gorgeous, I don’t think I would be in this much trouble.

It all happened in seconds. I rounded the corner, my breath caught in my throat as I gasped; my eyes met his. Those smoldering green emeralds met mine with an intensity that made my knees weak, and then the vase flew out of my hands and fell to a shattered mess on the ground.

“Shit!” I squealed jumping back so no glass would get on me.

I scrambled for the dust pan behind the counter, tucking my hair behind my ear.

“Let me help you.” He held out his hand, and I forced myself not to look up, but I did.

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