Liam: Do you want to catch a movie one night this week?
I haven’t been to the movies in years, but there’s something alluring about the idea of sitting next to Athena in a darkened theater.
Her response isn’t immediate. I wait with my phone in my hand, tapping my toes on the floor.
I need to shower and eat.
I should toss my phone on the sofa and get back to my life.
Athena: Later in the week works for me. I have a drop-in class tomorrow and another one on Thursday. Flower arranging classes here at the shop so I’m busy.
I’m pulling the evening shift on Wednesday, so I move to firm up Friday now.
Liam: Let’s do Friday.
Athena: Friday is good. Pick me up at 8 at Wild Lilac?
Typing out my response, I smile like a fucking idiot.
Liam: I’ll see you at Wild Lilac.
Tomorrow. I don’t add that to the text, but that’s my plan. I’m all for learning new skills. Flower arranging may come in handy someday.
Chapter 15
Athena
Trying to teach a basic floral arranging class while Liam Wolf is in the building is almost impossible.
Most of the people who showed up for this fifty dollar, you-take-your-bouquet-home class are my regular customers. I don’t know if they dropped in because they felt pressured by all the times I’ve mentioned it over the last month, or if they see themselves as potential future employees of Wild Lilac.
I’d love to hire another designer, but I need more money coming in. That’s one of the reasons I decided to offer these classes. The other is because I want to connect more with my clientele.
My clientele wants to connect with Liam.
I don’t think anyone has heard a word I’ve said. Maybe Liam has. He’s been staring at me since he got here.
I’m glad I cleaned myself up after work. I went home, took a shower, straightened my hair, and put on black yoga pants and a white T-shirt with Wild Lilac stitched across the front of it in dark purple thread.
The shirts are another idea straight from Al.
Leanna gave me one this morning. I thought the class tonight would be the right time to debut it.
“How about we take a break?” I announce so that the seven women in attendance can catch their breath.
Staring at a gorgeous man in a black T-shirt and jeans is hard work.
Liam steps toward me, but he’s cut off by two women who jump in front of him to compliment him on the arrangement he’s been working on.
“Who is he?”
A familiar voice lures my gaze to the left. Mrs. Ducat, one of the sweetest people I’ve ever met, is standing next to me.
She picks up a dozen pink roses every Wednesday morning like clockwork.
“A friend,” I say with a sigh.
“Boyfriend?” she asks, reaching to tug my hand into hers.