Page 54 of Wallflower in Bloom

“Dad, I’ve got a girlfriend.”

“A wha now?” Disbelief laced through his dad’s voice. “Tha’s grand! Finally settlin’ down, then? Does she make you happy?”

His heart warmed for his kind father. The best man in his life. All he’d ever cared about was if Jack was happy.

“Yeah,” Jack answered reflexively.

He did feel pretty grand. There was something comforting about Violet’s presence and her home. He’d already felt like he’d lived here for months, not weeks.

Come to think of it; he couldn’t think of a recent time he’d been happier.

Jack made his way to the kitchen and saw a note on the edge of the counter in loopy handwriting.

Muffins for you in the oven. Couldn’t trust naughty Sir Toddrick to stay out of them. Thanks for the bedtime story. ♥? Vi.

“Oh, fuck yeah,” he muttered.

“Wut’s tha’ now?” his dad uttered.

“I’m at my girlfriend’s house, and she made muffins.”

“Sounds like a keeper.”

Violet was a keeper for whoever was lucky enough to end up with her. She was thoughtful, dead sexy, and as kind as a woodland fairy.

“Well, tell me about ’er,” his dad interjected.

“She’s a friend of a friend.” Jack leaned down to take the muffins out of the oven. “She’s kind and gorgeous but innocent, kind of a Marilyn Monroe vibe,” he said through a mouthful of orange and cranberry muffin, still warm from the oven.

“Bet’er lock ’er down. You know I want grandbabies. Maybe three or four?”

“Dad,” he warned through another mouthful of muffin. God, he needed to watch himself, or he wouldn’t be able to fit in his costume. “We’ve only dated a little while. It’s not that serious.”

“Well, I’m pleased as punch for you.”

Jack’s phone started vibrating next to his ear. He pulled back.

“Bloody hell. Dad, I’ve gotta go. It’s Mum.”

“Tell the she-demon I said hullo.”

He switched to answer the video call. His mum was the polar opposite of his father; where he was sweet and round in his English garden, mucking about in the soil, she was all sharp edges and plastic surgery, though she insisted they were fillers.

“John Nicholas Grant,” she demanded into the camera.

“Hello, Mother.” He grimaced, hiding the muffin from his face.

“You have a girlfriend?” she said the word girlfriend as if she meant cyanide instead. “I am absolutely devastated you didn’t tell me first. Does your father already know?”

“Uh…”

She threw her hand in the air, her phone wobbling in exasperation. “Of course he knows. I’m invariably the last person you tell. I want what’s best for you, my darling Jack. A casting agent friend reached out about a new edgy show—you know, where everyone’s a werewolf slash president or something. He agreed to let you read for it, and then what do I see from my Google alert for you? You have a girlfriend in the middle of bloody nowhere. We did not work this hard for you to get derailed.”

“Shay, Wayridge, and I are thrilled,” he lied. Wayridge would eventually be thrilled. “The network pays my bills, so I need to make them happy.” He poured Todd’s breakfast to stop the soundtrack of incessant meowing behind him.

“But Jack, darling, she’s not even anyone famous. Not an influencer, not even a reality TV participant.” She clucked her tongue with disappointment. “Now, darling, I must run. I’m late for my massage, but send in that self-tape. It’s the least you could do after my friend considered you for a role. The sooner we get you out from underneath that network and girlfriend, the sooner the real work of your career can begin.”

His stomach turned. He couldn’t disappoint her. “I’ll consider it.”

---