A few days later, Rose sat like a coward in her car outside her childhood home. She planned to do a walk-through before the real estate agent arrived. She’d almost made it out of the car twice to go in by herself, but she just couldn’t do it.
Rose shuddered. She’d always hated the house. Memories of her mom dying, the dingy smell that always wafted because her dad hated cleaning, of being the “smelly” girl in elementary school. She’d made sure to rent the brightest, cleanest, most modern apartment in Santa Monica when she got her first big paycheck. She’d prove everyone, including herself, wrong.
Fairwick Falls had five real estate agents; she’d picked the highest-rated one for a meet and greet. Rose checked her phone; the agent would be here in a few minutes.
A large box truck pulled in beside her with the R&D flower farms logo on it.
Rose wordlessly got out of her car and walked toward the back door as Gray hopped out of the cab. At least she wouldn’t be alone now.
“No ‘hello’? No ‘I missed you’?” he called.
“It’s because I didn’t miss you, and I don’t wish you were here,” Rose yelled over her shoulder. She waited on the steps for him with a smile, though, betraying her words.
He swaggered up to her. “Then how come you weren’t inside already?”
“Just being polite, something I’d recommend googling if you’re unfamiliar.”
“You’re a riot, Parker.” Gray wore his R&D company polo shirt underneath his omnipresent leather jacket, and she kind of loved this buttoned-up version of him.
“Ready to head in?” He started walking toward the door.
“Hold on,” Rose stalled. “How’s the new greenhouse?”
They made the deal official a week ago, signing over the rights to the extended property around her father’s house and the greenhouse that sat between his land and Gray’s. Gray wiped a hand over his tired face, rubbing the bridge of his nose.
“Good, been busy. Got an order for a fuck ton of roses. So I’ll need to seal the greenhouse properly so it stays warm for the three thousand plants I need to deliver.”
“Three thousand, geez…” Rose muttered. “Are you doing this all yourself?” Now she was distracted. How did one man plant three thousand roses on top of everything else he was doing? Maybe she’d been depending on him too much in the store. This was the first time she hadn’t seen him without a coffee cup in his hand.
“I have a part-timer, but I—”
“Prefer to do it all yourself, yes. I’ve met you, Gray. You know, you’re reaching a point where it’s costing you more money to do everything yourself than it would be to hire someone full-time.”
“It’s costing me money not to pay somebody else?” Gray crossed his arms and frowned at her.
The wind whipped around her, and she fought her teeth from chattering. Anything to stay out of the house for a little bit longer. “I mean, think of your income-to-hour ratio. If you hire an entry-level full-time employee you can trust, they can run with projects without your oversight, that’ll give you time to start marketing to bigger regional partners.” She felt comfortable here, chit-chatting about strategy. It was her safe zone, non-personal and only tactical.
Gray’s eyebrows raised. “I’ve considered it, but finding somebody to trust is hard. But I appreciate your advice.” His eyes measured her. Was that admiration she saw?
“Maybe you should come on the podcast,” Rose offered. “You’re an entrepreneur. I’m sure my audience would love to look at,” Damnit, Rose. Did you say ‘look at’ like a lecherous old man? “Erhm, learn from you.” Excellent recovery, Rose. “Maybe we can even do a shop launch thing. We talk about my small business, your small business.”
“Who even listens to podcasts?”
Rose pulled a face at him. “Everyone under the age of eighty-seven.”
Gray scratched the back of his neck. “Look, I just don’t want to listen to people talk about what they ate for lunch that day.”
“I promise you; I do not mention my lunch.” Her teeth chattered as she spoke. She stuck her hands in her coat pockets and wrapped it tightly around her.
“You’re freezing out here. Come on.” One of his absurdly hulking arms wrapped around her shoulders and gently guided her toward the door.
Rose checked her phone; the realtor was five minutes late. Ugh, she hated that.
She swung open the door, and it was like stepping through a curtain of time back into her childhood.
Gray let out a slow whistle behind her. “I loved Frank, but cleanliness was not one of his virtues.” He turned around, looking at the scores of cobwebs and piles of papers tucked here and there around the kitchen.
“Welcome to my childhood.” Rose strode through the kitchen, taking stock of everything. It was much the same as when she’d last left it ten years ago. Vi and Lily had started in the closet and bedrooms, making a dent in the mess but hadn’t gotten to the kitchen yet.