“Yes, of course, buuuuut…I mean, you do know I work out of my kitchen for a reason, right?”
“That space would be the ideal way to introduce Rockwater Farms and Nina to New York. We can do limited events, tastings, charity events, parties, maybe even weddings. See how all of this fits? Then, when it’s time look for the restaurant space Nina wants—”
“You never stop, do you? You’re on bed rest, about to have a baby, and you’re thinking about not one but two new businesses to start in the next year.”
“Well, I was thinking more like a couple months, but—”
“Aubrey, come on!” The doorbell rang. Gwen picked up her iPad and carried it with her to the door. “Could we just get through the baby shower and the launch party first?” Gwen smiled down at Aubrey’s image on the screen and opened the door. The sweet scent of flowers washed over her.
“Uh…”
A delivery guy popped his head from behind a giant bouquet of pink peonies and magnolias. “Gwen Fleming?”
“Uh-huh.”
“For you.”
“Okay, let me get…” Gwen clamped the iPad under one arm and scrambled into her purse, which hung beside the door. “Just a second, Aubrey.” She pulled out a five for the delivery guy.
“Thanks. Enjoy the flowers.”
Gwen took the huge arrangement, careful not to drop the iPad as she wrapped her free arm around the vase and braced the bottom with her other hand.
“Flowers? You got flowers?”
Shoot, she’d almost forgotten that Aubrey was still on the iPad now squished against the side of Gwen’s chest. She walked into the kitchen, a delicate sprig of asparagus fern tickling her nose. The gorgeous flowers smelled of spring and love. She set the bouquet on the kitchen table.
“Gwen, let me see!” Aubrey insisted.
Deep breath. Gwen turned the iPad toward the flowers.
“Oh, they’re beautiful. Who are they from?”
Gwen didn’t want to read the card now. What if they were from Leo? Her heart stuttered inside her chest… It couldn’t be, but who else would send her flowers?
“Not sure.” Gwen lifted both shoulders. “Probably a happy client. Or maybe even a floral designer who’s pitching me their services.”
“Read the card.” Aubrey tilted her head. “There is a card, isn’t there?”
“Yes, yes there is.” Gwen plucked the card from the bouquet. Then she paused. “Oh my gosh, the door again,” she fibbed. “Aubrey, let me call you back, okay? I need to—”
“Gwen, read the card, I want to know—”
But Gwen pressed the off button on her iPad. Yes, she felt bad about hanging up on Aubrey, but she also wanted to read this card alone. What if the flowers were from Leo? What if they weren’t? What if, what if, what if…
She opened the crisp white envelope and pulled out a bright white card with the initials “L. T.” embossed across the top. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
What reason could Leo have to send her flowers? Was he still trying to convince her she should agree to a convenient arrangement with him? She thought she’d put that idea to rest, but then last night at the Upper East Side space…before Aubrey called…the strangest moment had passed between them. He’d looked at her…something in Leo’s eyes, in his stance and even in his voice had seemed different, more serious, more sincere, but Aubrey had called and the moment had passed. They hadn’t discussed anything other than the space and the launch party after that, and then Leo had dropped her at home, as she’d stuck with the lie that she had a previous dinner engagement. Well, she did have a dinner engagement—just with Mr. Mouse and a Lean Cuisine. Ha!
Enough. She took another deep breath and opened her eyes. Her cat had jumped on the kitchen table and rubbed his whiskers against the tall glass vase. “Mr. Mouse, what is this man thinking?” she said, running her eyes over the words on the card.
Thank you for last night. May I take you to dinner?
Leo
Last night? There hadn’t been a last night…and why dinner? So he could spend a whole evening trying to convince her to sleep with him, be his ongoing booty call so that they could get this mutual attraction out of their systems?
No thank you. She could find less hurtful ways to spend her time. She wanted to be more to a man than a convenient arrangement. If that meant she wasn’t Leo’s type of woman, then fine, but she wasn’t going to waste her time or her energy or put her heart in a place to be broken.
The flowers were beautiful, though. She wished she could say yes to dinner…but she couldn’t. Her phone rang. Had to be Aubrey. What would she tell her best friend? Was it time to tell her the entire sordid story about Leo and New Year’s Eve? She blindly swiped the answer bar, not able to take her eyes off of the perfect blooms.