Every time I thought of a question to ask him, his phone chirped and his gaze dropped to it.
“No,” I answer succinctly not wanting to delve into the twisted tale of my childhood. “Are you?”
I’d rather fire off twenty questions at him about Wren, but I don’t know him well enough to initiate a conversation about his personal life.
I’ve heard enough tales about breakups to last for the rest of my life. It’s part of being a florist. People come into Wild Lilac all the time hoping that a handful of roses or a vase filled with daffodils will magically repair their broken relationship.
Maybe it works sometimes, but for the long term, it takes more than a few pretty flowers to fix a damaged bond.
“I was born and raised here.” He chuckles. “It’s home to me.”
I lean back when a waiter buzzes past our table, picking up Liam’s empty plate on his way. He twists his face in a scowl at the sight of my half-eaten salad.
I push it forward an inch in a silent offering to him, but he ignores me in favor of flashing a smile at Liam.
I can’t blame him. Liam is the hottest guy in this place.
“I can’t imagine living anywhere else.” Liam hones in on a crumb in front of him. He swats it off the table with a push of his index finger. “What neighborhood is home to you?”
I tug on the corner of the paper napkin next to my water glass. “I live a few blocks from my shop.”
I’d go on about how it’s a modest studio apartment with a fireplace that doesn’t work and a window seat that’s as comfortable as it is cute, but those details only matter to me.
The apartment belonged to the former owner of Wild Lilac. She wanted to unload both in a package deal so she could retire in Arizona with no ties to New York. Jeremy negotiated a fair price. I expected him to turn around and sell the apartment after a few repairs, but he gave me the keys and told me to make him proud.
I’ve never lived alone before. I love it as much as I hate it.
Independence is everything. The loneliness is overwhelming at times, but I wouldn’t trade those seven hundred square feet of my own space for anything.
“I live on the Lower East Side,” he offers. “I’ve got a killer view of the East River.”
I’ve got a killer view right now.Sitting across from him is better than any view in this city right now.
Another chime from his phone draws his gaze back to the screen.
This time he lets out a low chuckle. “My mom is still going on about the flowers. I’m officially her favorite son for the day.Thanks again for that, Athena. I appreciate it more than you know.”
This seems like the perfect time to call it a night, so I do. “It was my pleasure and my job.”
He laughs. “You’re damn good at your job.”
I push back from the table to see if he’ll follow my lead. He does.
Standing, I glance down at my half-eaten salad. I’d take it to go, but I won’t eat it.
“Thank you for dinner.” I shoulder my navy blue tote.
He’s on his feet too, sliding his phone into one of the front pockets of his pants. “You’re welcome.”
I wait for an offer to take me home or a promise that he’ll see me soon, but silence fills the air between us.
“Take care, Liam.”
His eyes find mine and for the briefest of moments I see a flicker of sadness. It makes sense given that his relationship ended just days ago.
“You too, Athena,” he says softly. “Have a great night.”
I sigh as I walk away. His heart needs time to mend and my body needs some relief after spending two hours staring at him.
