I can tell the sentiment is genuine, so I take it that way. “Thank you.”
We finish cleaning the glass in silence. Once she’s swept up the area, she turns to face me. “I’m still a little confused about why you came all the way down here so early in the morning. If it was to apologize, that’s not necessary.”
I don’t know where the words come from, but I let them roll off my tongue. “I need another bouquet.”
Her eyes widen. “For Wren? The bouquet I left with you last night should still be fine. The flowers haven’t died, have they? They were all fresh when I put the arrangement together.”
“I gave that bouquet to my neighbor.”
“Your neighbor?”
“She’s ten.” I lean my hip against the table. “Her face lit up like it was Christmas Day.”
Her expression softens. “That was kind of you.”
“Her parents have been good to me,” I admit. “They feed me when I forget to feed myself.”
This conversation is unexpected, but it’s so damn easy. I haven’t felt this comfortable with anyone in a hell of a long time.
“I’d like to stop by later today and pick up something with roses for my mom.” I point at a bucket of yellow roses in the display cooler behind her. “Yellow roses and throw in a few other flowers.”
Athena glances back over her shoulder. “Is it her birthday?”
“Not today.” I tug my wallet out of my back pocket. “I just want to surprise her.”
“It’s a sunshine bouquet,” she says matter-of-factly.
Crossing my arms, I take the bait. “A sunshine bouquet? What’s that?”
“It’s an arrangement meant to bring sunshine to someone’s day.”
“A sunshine bouquet it is.” I slide my credit card out of my wallet. “Dial it back from what you put together last night. Ipissed off a few people on the subway when I unintentionally stabbed them in the back with that thing.”
“You said you wanted something extra special.” She shoots me a smile.
I raise both hands in surrender. “I did. Today I want something beautiful that I can control on the subway.”
“What time will you pick it up?”
“I’ll text you later to let you know.” Rubbing my jaw, I clear my throat. “Ignore the texts I sent you earlier.”
She pauses, looking over at her phone. “You texted me this morning?”
“Twice,” I admit. “When you didn’t respond, I realized you were probably asleep, so I came down here to slip a note under the door.”
“You did?”
I straighten in place. “I feel guilty that you had to play messenger for Wren.”
“Don’t.” She looks down at the bandage on her finger. “Shit happens.”
Shoving my credit card at her, I huff out a laugh. “You know it. Charge my mom’s flowers to my card.”
She waves it away with a flick of her hand. “Pay me when you pick them up. I haven’t turned on the computer system yet since I don’t officially open for business for another two hours.”
“That’s my cue to get the hell out of here, isn’t it?” I ask half-teasingly.
“I don’t want word getting around that I take orders before seven a.m.,” she says, amusement lacing her tone. “I’ll see you later, Liam.”
