“She tried,” Audrey interjects before I can say anything.
Liam’s gaze finds mine. His brows pinch together. “Was there a problem?”
I motion toward the envelope near Audrey’s hand. “Wren wrote you a note and asked me to get it to you along with the flowers. You forgot your credit card at my shop, so I thought I’d stop by here and drop everything off.”
“That was my idea,” Audrey pipes up. “I told Athena to come by when she called asking to speak with you. I knew you’d want to deal with this tonight.”
I have no problem letting her take credit for this hot mess.
After sliding the credit card into his pocket, Liam scoops up the envelope. Ripping it open, he flips the paper over twice before he scans what’s written in red ink.
“What the hell?” he bites out under his breath.
Audrey cranes her neck to try and read anything that’s in her view.
I drop my gaze because looking at the floor seems like the safest bet at the moment. That note is personal. I’m already too involved in this.
My timing may be off, but I need to get the hell out of here. I consider my next move. Do I offer my condolences? Is it better to leave without a word?
I don’t know the protocol for walking out on a customer who just got dumped.
Audrey unwittingly jumps into the role of my savior. “I assume you’d like some time alone, so Athena and I will leave you be. You’ll lock up?”
I toss her a look of gratefulness, but her gaze is pinned on Liam’s face.
“Yes,” he says curtly. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Audrey.”
I’m not offered anything but a quick glance from him.
I’ll take it.
Anything is better than having to answer questions about Wren’s demeanor or what she said before she sent me packing.
Audrey shoulders a dark blue purse and rounds her desk headed toward the double glass doors that lead to the bank of elevators. Silently following her, I steal one last look at Liam.
Our eyes lock for the briefest of moments before he turns and starts back down the corridor, leaving the note and the flowers behind.
CHAPTER FOUR
Athena
An unexpected loudrap on the locked door of my floral shop sends the glass vase in my hand crashing to the ground.
“Dammit,” I whisper under my breath even though I’m the only one here.
I’m alone inside the store every morning until I unlock the doors at nine a.m. sharp. That’s when Leanna Pearsall arrives with two piping hot teas in her hands.
She’s a wizard when it comes to floral arranging.
Years of her life have been spent inside this shop. Leanna worked for the previous owner. Part of the sale agreement was that I’d employ Leanna for six hours a day, five days a week. Her husband, Al, handles all of the store’s deliveries when he pops by to pick up Leanna after her shift.
The rest of his day is spent being an Uber driver.
They balance their time so at least one of them is home when their three kids aren’t in school.
A quick glance at the clock on the wall keeps me in place.
There’s a sign posted on the door that clearly states when Wild Lilac is open for business. I use the precious early morning hours to work on orders and accept a daily delivery from my floral supplier.
