Lace (Just This Once 4)

“Olivia knows that you know?” His brows lift.

“I gave her flowers last week to thank her.” I’m mildly surprised that he didn’t hear about that, although I have no idea how close they are.

I wouldn’t know any of my cousins if I passed them on the street. My family is separated, not only by physical distance but emotional vastness.

“Good.” He jerks his chin. “She’s a great person. She’s always looking out for everyone else. I’m glad to hear that you took the time to send her flowers.”

“I hand delivered them.” I glance over his shoulder to where Buck is standing next to Alvin. “She was working at one of the boutiques that day.”

“Working too hard, no doubt.” He steals a glance behind him. “Olivia’s the hardest working person I know. I’m surprised she showed up tonight.”

“Olivia was here?”

“Front row.” He gestures to the field. “She always comes out to the first home games of the season and the series if we make it. It’s tradition.”

I want to ask if she came with someone, but her relationship status is none of my business. I hadn’t even considered it until this point.

Maybe that’s why she had such a strong reaction to my question about dinner. She’s involved with someone.

I glance over at Alvin again. “I should go. I need to get my nephew back home before the stroke of midnight, or my sister will never forgive me.”

Trey laughs. “It was good to meet you, Alex. Maybe we’ll run into each other again.”

“You bet,” I say as I brush past him.

Something tells me that this won’t be the last time I see Trey Hale.

Chapter 10

Olivia

I watch as another flower petal drops onto my desk. The bouquet that Alexander gave me almost two weeks ago isn’t technically a bouquet anymore. It’s a bunch of stems with withering petals in a tall vase sitting in an inch of yellowed water.

It’s a testament to how often I receive flowers.

I’m holding onto these until the very last petal has fallen and the stems have dried up. Only then, will I let Sheryl take the vase away.

She pokes her head into my office in another attempt to wrestle the dying flowers from my grasp. “Are you sure you don’t want me to dump that vase, Olivia?”

“No.” I look over a blank piece of paper in front of me. “When the time is right, I’ll take care of it.”

She sighs. “I can stop by the market on my way to work tomorrow and pick up a fresh bouquet. Consider it my treat to you.”

Is that pity in her green eyes?

The only flowers that are ever delivered to the office for me are on my birthday and those are from my mom.

The card bears the same message every year.

To my daughter on her birthday.

Love, your mother.

My mom loves me more than anything, but heartfelt messages are not her way of showing it.

“You don’t have to do that.” I lean back in my chair. “I appreciate the thought.”

“Cathleen stopped by earlier looking for you.” Sheryl straightens and takes a step into my office. “She said it wasn’t urgent.”