CHAPTER FIFTEEN
NICHOLAS
While Blossom starts to fray at the edges, my arrangement with Clay looks more and more solid.
After two rounds of sweaty sex, I left his place satisfied and rejuvenated. We agreed on two to three hookups each week going forward, schedules depending.
The way he is, I really do trust him. Clay isn’t trying to pretend to be anyone but himself. He’s gruff but honest, and even though he’s not chatty and quick to share, he has been opening himself up to me, which I appreciate.
Hooking up with Clay is the right move. It’s like when I opened the flower shop in the first place. I choose to see the bright side in life, and sometimes, that means I recognize an opportunity and take a chance.
Emboldened, I double my resolve to face this Flower Hub situation head-on, too.
“It’s time to go to the flower farms,” I say cheerfully to Kavya, announcing this out of nowhere.
She puts her snippers down. “All of them?”
It’s morning, and the shop isn’t set to open for another hour. “It won’t hurt to close the doors for a morning shift. We don’thave any orders until later. And it will be fun! We both love the flower farms.”
Kavya looks skeptical. “Why are you declaring a field trip out of nowhere?” she asks.
I run my fingers down today’s work blazer, an old favorite in lilac purple. “The best way to protect my supplier relationships is to give them the quality time they deserve.”
“Right. Because we need to protect ourselves against the flowers from corporate hell.”
“We do,” I tell her. “Don’t worry. I recognize the threat. But I’ve built the business I wanted, and I’m going to stick to what works. That includes visiting our beloved suppliers and maintaining our personal touch.”
Kavya drums her fingers on the work table. “We can drop off some of the old vases, pick up a few deliveries.”
“At least as many fit in my limited car space.”
“Sure, I’m in.” She glances at me. “And we’ll stop by Starlight Fields?” she asks. “I want to scope out the incoming stock.”
“Definitely. You’re an artist—you need to see your paints.”
“Alright, fuck it. Let’s go to the flower farms.” She points to the front of the shop, where I see Clay outside the window. “Hey, what if we asked Clay to lend us his truck?”
“No. I couldn’t impose like that.”
Kavya shrugs. “He’s fixing everything. Maybe he’s really helpful. Like it’s his thing.”
“I don’t know about that.”
“I kind of like him. Nance keeps calling him a rapscallion. Sue seems like she likes him, though.” Kavya looks at me. “How about you?”
“Me? Oh, I guess he’s a pretty decent guy. It is nice to have all the repairs done.”
And I catch myself salivating over the memory of his fingers in my ass. That’s nice, too.
Kavya shrugs. “I guess we’ll see if he screws us over in the end.”
On that note, Clay walks inside. “Morning,” he says.
“Morning,” Kavya and I say in unison.
Clay nods gruffly, and I take him in. His scruff is growing heavier again. Today’s outfit is cargo pants and a blue T-shirt, untucked. He shoves a hand into one pocket as he talks.
“Wanted to ask if the shop will be available tonight. I’ve got a list of things to get to.”
