“I got out some pottery clay I bought special for the occasion, and he Ghosted me through a dozen repeats of Unchained Melody.”
“He’s a real man,” she says. “Does he have a brother?”
“Hmm. Come to think of it, I don’t know. He didn’t talk much about his family.”
I pull out my phone and start composing a text message. Last night, he didn’t stick around for long after we put our clothes back on. He helped me wash up from dinner, and mentioned a few times that he had to get up early to meet a new subcontractor at the garage.
We haven’t talked yet today, and I’ve been waiting for an excuse to message him.
I send a text: You remember my sister Megan, right? Brown hair, green eyes, works at your favorite flower shop. She just asked me if you happen to have a brother.
“And send,” I say, pressing the green button.
“You sound just like Mom when you talk to your phone like that.”
I stare down at my phone. Seconds pass. I’m used to messaging with Rory, who replies back so fast, I wonder if she’s psychically answering me before I ask.
Megan notices me staring at my phone. “Give him some time. I’m sure he’ll still have a brother in ten minutes.”
“Good point.”
Megan goes back to her baking, and I go off to do my laundry with Rory.
Our routine hasn’t changed in years. In between folding loads from the dryer, we laze around in the rec room, watching movies and eating donuts.
Rory leaves after dinner, and I check my phone for the thousandth time.
There’s still no response from Luca.
I carry my folded laundry back out to the cottage and put everything away.
I check my phone again. No response.
The flowers from last night are sitting on the table, next to the note.
I look at the pretty charm bracelet on my wrist. It’s such a thoughtful, personal gift. He really made me feel special.
Special.
I think back to the first time I met Luca, when I gave him dating advice. I told him he needed to make a girl feel special and unique.
He certainly accomplished that last night. But today he hasn’t even called.
I frown at the darkened screen on my phone.
Do I need to teach him that he has to call a girl the day after he sleeps with her?
Or is he already done with me?
I really wish he’d call.
Chapter 15
Monday morning, I pick out the day’s outfit with a hopeful heart.
Luca hasn’t returned my text message from yesterday, but I have a feeling he’ll come see me at the flower store today.
I want to wear something really simple, so that my new charm bracelet is the star.
I tie my curly brown hair up in a high ponytail, and get dressed in dark jeans, cobalt blue flats, and a plain white V-neck shirt.
When I get outside, the late spring sky is grey and threatening rain, so I drive my car instead of walking.
I drive past the Baker Brothers garage slowly, looking for any sign of Luca. The windows are still covered in paper, so I can’t see anything.
The garage’s sign looks great, thanks to the recent restoration. Luca had a guy who specializes in hand-painting signs come in and spruce up the letters. He also added a line about motorbikes, exactly as I suggested. I really hope it was good advice I gave him.
I open the flower store and keep myself busy, my heart skipping a beat every time someone comes in the door.
It’s nearly lunch time when a woman I don’t recognize comes in.
She pretends to be looking at the ferns and orchids, but I can feel her eyes on me. I ask her if I can help her, and she quickly scuttles back out again.
I pull out my phone and check it again. No message from Luca.
I send him a new text message: Have you been sending spies over here to the flower shop?
He responds immediately: No. Why?
I frown at the phone. I should be glad he replied, but this isn’t the sort of sweet, romantic message I was hoping for.
Me: Some blonde chick was just in here staring at me.
I wait five minutes for a response and don’t get one.
The door chimes again. I look up, expecting to see Luca, coming to surprise me with something thoughtful.
Instead, I get the blonde woman.
This time she walks right up to me and points the screen of her phone at my face.
“Did you make this?” she asks.
There’s a photo of flowers on the screen. I recognize the raffia tie from our regular supply. More importantly, I recognize the extravagant arrangement. It’s the one Luca dropped a bundle on the first time we met.
I look up into the blonde’s ice blue eyes. She’s older than me, maybe close to forty, but really pretty, like a Barbie doll.
I answer carefully. “If it came with one of our cards, then it was either me or my coworker.”