“Sir, I’m not sure flowers can communicate all of that.”
“They don’t have to communicateallof it. Just the sorry part. And maybe the part about how I love her more than horse racing.”
“Do you? Love her more than horse racing?”
He considers this. “Depends on the horse.”
“That’s...honest.”
“Susan says I’m too honest. That’s part of the problem.”
I grab my notepad. This is going to require some creativity.
Thirty minutes later, Hawaiian Shirt Man leaves with two dozen roses, a handwritten card I helped him compose, and a tentative plan to maybe attendGamblers Anonymous “if Susan thinks it’s a good idea.”
I wish him luck. He’s going to need it.
Ruffy has claimed his spot by the front window, where he can watch the sidewalk and judge everyone who walks by. I’m about to join him when my phone lights up.
Levi:Landed. LA is loud. Miss you already.
Me:You’ve been gone three hours.
Levi:Three very long hours.
Me:I just helped a man apologize for gambling away his vacation fund.
Levi:...I need the full story.
Me:Lucky Susan. That’s all I’ll say.
Levi:I’m somehow more confused now.
I smile at my phone like an idiot. He’s only been gone a few hours and I already miss him. That’s either really romantic or really pathetic. Maybe both.
The rest of the afternoon is quiet. A few customers trickle in, a woman buying tulips for her sister’s birthday, a teenager nervously picking out a corsage. I make arrangements, sweep the floor, and try not to check my phone every five minutes.
By evening, the sun is starting to set and I’m thinking about closing upearly. Ruffy is still at his window post, watching the sidewalk and judging everyone who walks by.
The bell chimes.
“Back already?” I look up, expecting my gambler friend.
It’s not him.
Penelope Waters is standing in my doorway.
She’s wearing white linen and a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes.
“Delilah,” she says. “I was hoping we could chat.”
Ruffy growls.
For once, I completely agree with him.
TWENTY
LEVI
