My head hurts from drinking that cut-price champagne last night.
I’m not really a big drinker and the extra large coffee I’m clutching isn’t doing much to help so far to cope with my unfamiliar hangover. It’s exacerbated by the fact I’ve had to help with a huge lily order for a party up at Peppermint Lodge. Cue sneezes galore and that buzzing, throbbing sensation in my sinuses which feels like a bee armed with a small hammer is trying to break its way out of my face.
My Mom has also been giving me the side eye all morning.
How was I to know that it was a - recently returned, unbelievably attractive - member of the terrible Montag clan under that mask? Although to be fair, “a rose by any other name would smell as sweet...” and all of that. Whether he’s a Montag or a Brown or a Cruz he’d still be the most gorgeous guy in the whole of Snowflake.
That kiss!
I hide behind a huge vase to escape my Mom’s glare and imagine what would have happened if we hadn’t been disturbed. To be honest, it felt so good I would have happily stripped my clothes off behind that flower wall.
He hasn’t even seen me without my eye mask on.
Maybe he won’t be interested? Why am I thinking like we’re going to get together? He’s out of bounds - completely. Why does Roman have to be a Montag?
It’s so unfair. The one guy I’ve properly connected with and he has to be from that clan. I had an on-off thing with a guy at college, it was fun but I never felt serious about him. I had some boyfriends in school but again, nothing to write home about. I guess in the back of my head, I have this romantic notion of “The One”. And that’s my Mom’s fault.
“You can quit staring at me Mom. I didn’t know who I was kissing, okay?” I pop my head round from the side of the vase.
Her eyebrows fly up. Oh dear. I’m in for a lecture. “Julia Caputo, number one why were you kissing some boy you’d barely met? And second, you must know what the Caputo brothers look like even if that particular one has been gone for a while. And c) why did you run away from that nice Mr Paris?”
I start laughing. “And c? Oh Mom…”
“I’m not finished Julia. I don't think you understand this is serious. You’ve upset your father and Ty is really angry.” She shakes her head sadly at me. I’m not having that.
“It’s not my fault Dad fell out with Mr Montag. And I’m not responsible for Ty’s rages. He gets angry about everything. He threw his remote control through the window when it wouldn’t change the channel. He’s got serious anger issues. Anyway surely the most adult thing for everyone to do is just sort this out?” I look back at her.
She sighs and cuts the stem of a tulip. “It’s not that easy hon. There’s a lot of bad blood now. The longer it’s been left, the harder it is to make up.”
She adds the tulip to a bouquet and cuts a piece of ribbon. “So, what did you think of Mr Paris?”
That’s a question I would really rather not answer honestly. After the high of kissing Roman, having to stand clutching a warm glass of champagne and listen to Mr Paris talk about finance was a step from the sublime to the ridiculous. He wasn’t awful, just average.
“He was fine Mom.” I feel like hiding behind the vase again.
“Mr Paris told your Dad he’d like to take you out for dinner. Don’t make that face. Look Julia, he’s going to invest lots of money in Snowflake and letting him buy you a nice meal for free wouldn’t be hard, would it?” She looks at me expectantly.
I sigh. “My head hurts, I’m going to go get an aspirin.” I run up the stairs at the side of the main shop.
Upstairs is the little studio apartment where I’ve been staying since I came back from college. It’s good to have my own space; I know my bedroom is always there at the family home but I like having my independence. This apartment needs a makeover though. All the wiring was done in the 1960s and Ty, who’s an electrician, is meant to be fixing it but keeps putting it off. This means the fuses blow on a regular basis and there’s a weird humming noise coming from the lights.
I find the aspirin and chug a glass of water. It feels stuffy in here so I open the door to the little balcony which looks over the yard at the back. Cold fresh air floods in and clears my head. I step out onto it and take a deep breath.
“Julia?”
It’s Roman, standing in next door’s yard, looking like a god. Hopefully he’s too far away to notice my scarecrow hair piled up in a bun and the dark circles under my eyes from last night’s party.
“Hey!” I wave down at him. “What are you doing down there?” I can’t think of anything more interesting to say with this hangover.
“Clearing some space. We’ve got a big delivery coming and we need to store it out here for a few days before we send it out. How are you doing?” I’m still too far away to see the color of his eyes properly.
“Okay. Had a little too much champagne last night.” I shade my eyes with my hand.
“Would you mind not doing that?” He’s gazing at me in a quizzical way.
“Do what?” I’m confused.
“I can’t see your eyes with your hand there. I didn’t get to see your face without that mask on last night. I’m enjoying it now.” He grins up at me.
