“He’s still calling you?” Richard asked, cleaning up his paintbrushes in the bathroom sink. I leaned against the wall in the hallway, staring down at Graham’s name flashing against the screen.
“Yup.” I hadn’t seen Graham since he exploded at Richard’s gala five days ago, and he hadn’t stopped calling me since then.
“And he doesn’t leave a message?”
“Nope.”
“Block him. He’s the definition of a psychopath.”
“I can’t. What if something happens to Talon?”
Richard glanced my way with an arched brow. “You do know she’s not actually your responsibility, right? As in, she’s not your kid.”
“I know, it’s just…” I bit my bottom lip and stared down at the phone. “It’s hard to explain.”
“No, I get it, LuLu. You’re a giving person, but you gotta be careful, because a man like him is just a taker. He’ll take all he can from you and treat you like crap.”
My mind thoug
ht back on the dinner Graham and I had a week before, the night when he showed me a small, softer side of him I’d wondered about. The thing about Graham Russell was he lived almost completely inside his mind. He never really invited a person to see his inner thoughts or feelings. So, the night he exploded at the art show, it was a complete one-eighty from who I’d come to know him to be.
Instead of engaging in more talk about Graham, I shifted the conversation. “Do you really have to be gone for a week?”
Richard walked past me, out to the living room where his suitcases were lying open. “I know, I wish I didn’t have to, but now that I hit the museum, I have to keep the momentum going, and when you’re invited to a gala in New York City, you go.”
I walked up behind him and wrapped my arms around him. “Are you sure girlfriends can’t tag along?” I joked.
He turned around with a smile and kissed my nose. “I wish. I’m gonna miss you.”
“I’m gonna miss you, too.” I grinned, giving him a light kiss. “And if you want, I can show you exactly how much I’m going to miss you.”
Richard grimaced and glanced at his watch. “While that sounds ridiculously enticing, I gotta leave for the airport in like twenty minutes, and I’m hardly done packing.” He unwrapped our bodies and went back to his suitcases to pack his brushes.
“Okay. Well, are you sure you don’t want me to drive you to the airport?”
“No, it’s fine, really, I’ll just get a Lyft. You’re training the new girl at work today, aren’t you?” He glanced at his watch one more time before looking up at me. “I think you’re already late.”
“Yeah, you’re right. Well, okay. Text me before your plane takes off, and call when you land.” I bent down and kissed him on the lips.
“Okay, sounds good—and, babe?” he called after me as I scooped up my keys to leave.
“Yes?”
“Block that number.”
“I’m sorry I’m late,” I said, hurrying into Monet’s Gardens through the back door.
Mari was going over the weekly orders with Chrissy, our new florist. Chrissy was a beautiful woman in her seventies who’d once owned her own floral shop. Teaching her the ins and outs of the shop was easy—she knew more than both Mari and me when it came to flowers.
When we mentioned that she was over-qualified for the position, she disagreed, saying she’d been a busy florist and shop owner for many years, but it was a lot of work for her to keep up with. She said her friends told her to retire, but her heart knew she needed to be surrounded by flowers for a bit longer and the position at our shop was perfect.
“No worries.” Chrissy smiled. “I already started arranging the orders for today.”
“Yeah, and she also taught me this new computer organization system—in other words, I think we hired a wizard,” Mari joked. “Is Richard off to New York?”
“Yup, sadly enough, but he’ll be back soon.”
Mari narrowed her eyes. “This is the first time you two have spent a week apart—are you sure you can handle the separation?”