“What? It’s not like I sprinkled arsenic in his cereal. He’s fine.”
A light knock at the door had Brooke sprinting to answer it.
“Tell her to come in,” Jo yelled as she scooped a few cookies onto a plate and poured a cup of coffee.
The woman who’d made all the deliveries so far followed Brooke into the apartment. Probably in her late twenties, she wore her honey-brown hair in a ponytail, jeans, and a jacket with a lavender T-shirt underneath that read,Connections by Violet.
She held out a bright yellow smiley face mug with a tall, thick, phallic-shaped cactus growing out of it. “I really have to apologize for this one.”
Tilting her head to one side, Brooke giggled. “It looks like a prickly dick.”
“It’s an organ pipe cactus.” Her smile was as bright and cheery as the one on the happy little mug as she set it on the kitchen counter and stuffed her hands in her jacket pockets. “I’m Violet, by the way, but call me Letty.”
“I’m Jo, as you may have already figured out, and that’s Brooke.” Jo bobbed her head toward the kitchen table. “Care to join us for coffee? I just made cookies.”
“No cookies for me, thank you, but I’d love some coffee.” She shivered. “I have to keep the van cold while I wait.”
Jo poured two more cups, handed one to Letty, and set a plate of cookies on the table.
Brooke grabbed a cookie off the baking sheet and folded her willowy frame into a kitchen chair. “So you’ve been sitting out there all morning, waiting for the hours to pass?”
Nodding, Letty joined Brooke and wrapped her hands around the warm cup. “I tried to explain to Mr. Preston that the reason I deliver on Sundays is because my shop is new. I haven’t built up enough business to keep much stock on hand. I have to keep it tight, and I went through my last order for a wedding yesterday, which is why you just got a cactus.” She gestured to the roses and peonies. “He’s run through the floral arrangements I had left, and I told him there wasn’t time between deliveries to put anything together even if I had the stock to do it. He didn’t care. He was adamant that I stick to the schedule. So, I loaded up what I had, not knowing how long this would go on. He seemed to think it might take a while.”
Careful not to prick herself, Jo plucked the card from the base of the cactus. “They’re all beautiful, even this big guy.”
Brooke swallowed a bite of cookie. “So how does this work? His messages indicate he knows what Jo’s getting.”
“Oh, I send him a picture of the arrangement, and he texts me back a message to put with it.”
Jo took a seat between Brooke and Letty, not sure how she felt about her private one-sided banter with Avery passing through a stranger.
“Pretty handwriting,” Brooke said, jutting her chin at the little white cards containing Avery’s messages.
Letty shook her head over the rim of her coffee. “It’s a portable printer.”
“Cool.” Brooke looked at Jo. “You should get one of those.”
“Clients first.” And fingers crossed, a new apartment with a more suitable oven.
A spark of interest lit Letty’s eyes. “Are you starting your own business?”
Jo tapped the envelope against the table, excited to discuss her dreams with someone who’d recently gone after her own, but also nervous, afraid if she talked about them too much, they’d evaporate like the steam from her coffee.
“Dreams don’t work unless you do, girl.”
“I’m trying,” she said, half to Letty, half to her grandma’s mantra. “Any words of wisdom?”
“What kind of business?” Letty asked.
“She’s opening a bakery.” Brooke’s never-wavering confidence in her made Jo smile.
“Good for you.” Letty grabbed Jo’s hand, stilling her nervous tapping. Warmth from the mug and the sincerity in her voice seeped into Jo as she lightly squeezed, then withdrew. “The only advice I can offer is keep at it. Working for yourself is hard but rewarding.”
“And speaking of rewards…” Brooke’s fingers fluttered over the cactus, then toward the assortment of flowers filling the apartment. “I hope Avery Preston is paying out the nose for all this.”
“Let’s just say, he made it worth my while.” Letty looked at Jo from under her lashes. “I have to admit, I looked him up to make sure he wasn’t some lunatic or just pulling a prank, and wow… Those Cinderella headlines are brutal. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” This was no rags to riches story, but Jo couldn’t tell her that. “Just teaching him a lesson.”
