I shrugged. “Ask me when they get to the main building. That’s where shit’s going to get deep. Now it’s mostly making sure the breakfast muffins don’t taste like drywall dust.”
Eve chuckled.
“Daphne joining us?” Rio asked.
“No, she texted me to say she couldn’t make it today.”
“I think she’s going through something,” Evangeline said quietly.
Rio turned to look at her, then at me. “If Evangeline says that, there’s something to it. Her radar’s freakishly good.”
She wasn’t wrong.
Rio still insisted on calling Eve by her full name. Once, she told me,“She doesn’t feel like an Eve to me. She’s ... Evangeline.”
I could see that. With her floral dresses, flowing skirts, soft tops, and pale blue baggy jeans, there was definitely something Evangeline-y about her. But Rio didn’t know heras well as I did. Despite the delicate build, freckled nose, and soft brown hair tucked behind her ears that made her look younger than her years, Evangeline was no shrinking violet.
She looked like the gentle daughter her long-deceased devout mother had probably prayed for—but she was more. There was both an Eve and an Evangeline in her.
We dove into the smoked salmon with cream cheese and bagels box, then the fruit platter, leaving the banana nut and blueberry muffin plate to the end.
“How many drops?” I asked, holding the tiny bottle of the natural energy stuff over our glasses.
“Two. It’s made of—”
“Evangeline knows all the plant things, tell her,” I cut in, laughing. The wine I’d poured on an empty stomach was making me fuzzy around the edges.
Rio started listing ingredients, and Evangeline chimed in with facts about ginseng and something else that sounded like it grew on a cliff in the Himalayas.
I let them talk for a while, the sound of my friends in my kitchen calming. “Your turn to spill some beans,” I said after a while. “Anyone else living in a metaphorical work site this week?”
Rio’s eyes went all hazy just as a dreamy smile stretched across her face. She let out a sigh. “I hate to ruin the mood, but things are amazing. Really. Sorry, Ruby—I know you’re going through a rough patch and don’t believe in any of it anyway—but I’m in love.” She sighed again. “Owen is ... he’s amazing. I could go on and on, but I’ll spare you.”
I smacked her thigh. “I’m happy for you! We want to hear the good stuff, so why are you apologizing? You deserveall the happiness. But if Mr. Soccer Superstar ever acts up, just say the word—I’ll straighten him out myself.”
“No, he’s perfect. Honestly, if I let him have his way, we’d be hiring your crew to build a nursery tomorrow.”
Evangeline listened quietly, smiling. It wasn’t nearly as wide as Rio’s, but it was genuine. The kindest soul I knew.
“What about you, Evie?” I asked. “That new guy you liked who came in every week, were the bouquets for a girlfriend or his mom?”
She waved a hand. “His boyfriend, actually.” She chuckled. “He came in when Marcy was working, and she obviously got his full life story, everything from his first-grade teacher’s name to his current relationship.”
She went on to tell us a sweet story about the anniversary bouquet she made for a couple who’d first met at her shop eight years ago. She was probably the most romantic and least jaded about relationships of all of us. Which, given her life story, was surprising.
I watched them, and warmth spread through my chest. My chaos didn’t feel so heavy when I had my people.
“So,” Rio said, returning from the fridge with three cans of iced tea. “When was Sebastian here?”
Her timing was brutal. Snapped me right out of my reverie about how much I loved her.
“Why do you ask?”
“Because there’s a re-capped bottle of Sierra Nevada pale ale in your fridge, and that’s always a sign.”
“A few days ago,” I said, shrugging.
“How are things?” she asked casually.
