I drapeher leather jacket over the arm of the sofa as she stands at the windows that overlook the East River.
The small floral arrangement she brought with her has found its home on my reclaimed wood coffee table.
Athena took it from my hands when I stood in the center of the room silently debating where to place it.
I’m not a fresh flower kind of guy.
I’ve never lived with a woman, and since I’m not in the habit of ordering them for myself, flowers haven’t played a part in the décor of this place.
My home is suited to me. It’s simple and straightforward. The majority of my furniture is second-hand pieces I picked up in an antique shop an old friend owns.
I’ll take comfort over design any day of the week.
When Athena placed the vase on the table, she tilted her head to the left and then the right. That sent her ponytail swinging.
I was spellbound as I watched her twist the vase one way a quarter of an inch until a satisfied smile set over her mouth.
Silently, I move into the kitchen and pour two tall glasses of chilled water.
I used to be a fridge full of beer kind of guy, but alcohol only works for me in moderation.
I reserve that indulgence for when I meet someone for a drink or when my brothers drop by with a case of the imported beer they think I love.
I don’t.
It’s out of my price range, so I let them believe what they will. I’m not going to turn down expensive beer if they’re offering.
When I stroll back into the main living area, Athena’s moved. She’s standing in front of the sofa, staring at it like it’s done her wrong.
A scowl mars her gorgeous face.
“Are you alright?” I ask because I know a pissed off look on a woman’s face when I see it.
Skirting a hand over her brow, she sighs. “One of my suppliers is being a pain in the ass.”
“Bastard.”
Smiling, she looks down at her phone. “That’s exactly what he is and he’s proud of it.”
“Something tells me you can handle him just fine.”
With a half-shrug, she changes the subject. “You have a nice apartment.”
I’ll take the compliment and the opportunity to brighten her mood. “The flowers make all the difference. Feel free to use that as a new slogan for your store.”
She chuckles. “I’ll pass.”
I push one of the glasses of water at her. “Do you have a slogan for your store?”
Taking a sip, she shakes her head. “I think the name speaks for itself.”
I agree. It’s what drew me inside when I ordered the bouquet for Wren.
I met my sister, Nikita, for a coffee that day and then set off on foot toward the nearest subway stop. I passed Athena’s store on my way, and the name etched on the glass sparked something inside of me. I thought about Wren as I pulled on the door handle of Wild Lilac before I walked inside.
Now, I can’t stop thinking about the woman standing in my apartment.
“Do you want to sit down?” I tug on the front of the gray T-shirt I’m wearing.
