Page 2 of Saffron and Secrets

As soon as I read his text back, my phone flashes in my hand, and I squeeze it slightly and curse under my breath. Fuck off.

I grind my teeth, annoyed, and hit decline on my mother’s incoming call. Unwilling to deal with her right now, I stuff my phone into my pocket. I’d rather deliver fucking flowers.

2

Ruby

I’m picking up my weekly saffron order to take to my grandma Flora’s. The familiarity of the city lets me zone out and listen to all the hustle and bustle around me. Everyone else is going about their day on a Friday, but I can take today off and work Monday to Thursday and Saturday instead. This routine allows me to spend time with her. She isn’t getting any younger at eighty-three, after all. Besides my parents, she is my world. I share everything about my life with her.

The chime goes off, and my lips curve into a smile when the smell of flowers hits me. It makes me happy being in here. If flowers aren’t your thing, we can’t be friends. They're so beautiful and can make your darkest days turn brighter. When you’re sad, you buy flowers, and when you’re happy, you buy them too. There isn’t any occasion or emotion where you wouldn’t.

I walk over to where the saffron is kept. My shoulders hunch when I see a low stock. We look forward to pie baking every Friday. It’s our thing. I try not to think about what will happen when she goes. No, I don’t dare think what that would mean. I push that thought away and pick up a small bunch.

As I’m about to turn, I hear Sally, the owner of the florist shop, say, “Morning, Ruby.”

I spin and offer a warm smile. “Good morning, Sally.”

She wouldn’t ask me if I would like another flower; I’ve been coming here way too long for that. She knows I’m here for my saffron, and that’s all. Instead, we make small talk about other things.

“How’s Flora?” Sally wears her blonde hair in a neat bun and a black apron covers her jeans and top. She’s in her late thirties and started this business when she had kids. I love how kids didn’t stop her from chasing her dreams.

“She’s good. Opinionated as ever, but that’s what we love about her.”

“She still trying to get you to settle down and get married?”

Giggling, I hand the saffron to Sally.

“Every week, without doubt. She asks if I’m dating or if I’m talking to anyone. To which she gets the same answer, No, I'm busy working.”

She tilts her head to indicate we walk to the front of the store so she can wrap the bouquet and continue our conversation.

“I think she wants to know you’re happy and that you don’t work too much.”

I sigh. “That’s exactly what she thinks. I’ll miss my chance to get married or have kids because all I do is work, but I love it.”

She wraps the bunch up, and I swipe my card to pay.

“It’s so important to love your job. I get it. Just don’t forget to have a little fun too.” She wiggles her brows as she passes me the wrapped flowers.

I chuckle with a small eye roll and say, “I’m leaving before you get as bad as her.”

She smirks and waves, and as I turn, I’m met with large brown eyes that I’ve seen here before. Which is a nice surprise. He stands out in his black suit, defined jawline, five o’clock shadow, dark brown—or is it black?—wavy hair. I feel a flush hitting my cheeks. How much did he hear? Hopefully, not too much, because that would be embarrassing. I don’t need the world knowing I’m on a dry spell and haven’t been on a date in over twelve months.

Locking gazes with him causes a flutter in my stomach…a new and exciting feeling, but I need to get a grip. This guy is taken, for sure. He’s in a florist shop, so obviously he must have a girlfriend. He looks to be in his thirties so he could even have a wife and kids, and I’m drooling over him.

He offers a panty-melting smile, and I almost melt into a puddle. Damn, he’s my dream man. There’s a kindness in his smile that makes me want to talk to him, but I bet if I spent time with him, I’d find out he has multiple girlfriends and is on countless dating apps.

Why is he wearing that suit?

Where is my intelligent brain? I seem to have lost it the moment I saw him. No wonder Sally was wiggling her brows…she was hinting at him.

Oh God, how cringy.

I smile and dip my head, clutching my flowers to my chest. As I pass by him, I get a whiff of his delicious scent—a mix of caramel and spice. I want to bathe in it. Ignoring the tingling feeling, I walk out, keeping my gaze focused on the exit. When the outside air hits me, I take a deep breath and continue to my car, but something feels off.

I look over my shoulder but see nothing unusual, and after a quick scan around, nothing seems out of place. But the strange feeling doesn’t leave me, and after discovering a note yesterday on my car that said, I miss you. I can’t shake the eerily feeling, so I walk faster on the concrete and my breaths quicken as a slight panic hits. Something is definitely off. Maybe I should have stayed and talked to the handsome man. We would have walked the same direction. He definitely felt like he could protect me.

3

---