“I’m on board,” she agreed. Switching into assistant mode, she pulled the sellers over to grill them on their flower production and whether they could handle a large wedding. By the time she was done she had the contact information, a quote, and a guarantee they could get the job done.
“I haven’t seen them at any other stall,” she said as they walked away from the seller. “We got lucky.”
“I’ll send pictures to Jenny tonight to make sure they fit her vision, but she did tell us to make all the arrangements. I’m sure she’ll like them.”
“We should still check out the last few stalls, just in case. We’re not locked into anything.”
“You’re trying to jinx us, aren’t you?”
“Humor me.”
Shaking his head, he followed her lead.
As they strode toward the end of the market, Allison studied the people around them. The crowd was a mix of professionals looking to stock their stores or cover events. The rest, though, were ordinary local community members.
She’d never had a life that worked with waking up early on the weekends to buy flowers. Any time she had a living plant in her house it invariably died from her ill care. Gillian had given her a cactus once, joking that it was the only thing that could survive her schedule. Even it had found an early grave in the trash bin.
A woman laughed at the next stall, drawing Allison’s gaze.
The stranger grinned up at the man she was with before rising on her tiptoes to press a light kiss to his mouth. In her arms rested a vibrant potted plant that was obviously making the trip home with them.
That’s what I want. A life that was slow enough to enjoy a weekend stroll to the local market. A schedule that allowed for flowers in her world. Maybe even a dog, once she practiced on a cactus or two.
And a man by her side who wanted to experience all of that with her. Without having to check his watch every five minutes for fear of the work he was missing out on.
That simple dream would never be compatible with a man like Darian.
A mocking smile lit her lips. Only she could go from planning a hot one night stand to dreaming of commitment in less than fifteen minutes.
Glancing in Darian’s direction, she saw him watching her in silence.
“What?” she said, defensive.
“Nothing. You just looked…” He shook his head, letting the words trail away.
What? Silly, pining after a life she wasn’t living? She wasn’t going to ask for any details.
“We’re almost at the end. I really do think we found the best,” she said, trying to get them back on neutral ground.
“Agreed. We can put in a formal order on Monday. One more task accomplished.”
“And now you know, if this venture capitalist billionaire thing doesn’t work out, you always have your career as a wedding planner waiting in the wings.”
He shuddered. “Once is more than enough.”
“Maybe it’s more fun planning your own,” she offered.
“Weddings only make sense for romantic fools willing to fall prey to an entire industry designed to take their every last dime.”
“Do the Hallmark people know about you?”
“You know what I mean.”
“Down with weddings,” she said in a mock gruff voice, stamping her foot for emphasis.
“Hasn’t anyone ever told you it’s not a good idea to mock the boss?”
“Hey, it’s Saturday. I’m not your employee for the next forty-eight hours.” They reached the end of the lane of stalls and she wished the market was just a little longer. “Well,” she said. “I guess this is where we part ways.”
“Hold on just a second,” he said. “Stand right there.”
He was gone before she could protest. With a shrug she turned to stare down the street. It shouldn’t take very long to make it back to her apartment. Vegging out on the couch sounded like an excellent plan. Maybe she’d watch another one of those wedding movies.
Or maybe she should go shopping. Buy something new for dinner tonight. A new dress might be nice. Maybe even a trip to Victoria’s Secret…
She shook her head. Hadn’t she decided not to risk scalding humiliation? There was no need to dress up. Casual would be fine.
She ran a hand down her jeans. There wasn’t any harm in taking a closer look at her closet, though, was there? No one ever said casual couldn’t be stylish.
“Here you are, Ali.”
At the sound of his voice, she turned around.
And found him holding out the same potted plant the laughing woman had been cradling.
“I— What?”
“It’s a thank you.”
“I thought that’s what dinner was.”