“To me?” I repeated, utterly baffled. What did I have to do with it?
“Well, yes, to decide what you want to do. The management position here at Blossom and Bonsai is still yours, as I said it was when you left. And if you do plan to come back to it, then it would make the most sense for Melantha and Ellin to go ahead and relocate for this job offer.”
“I didn’t know not coming back to it was an option.” I heard myself say the words, but I hadn’t meant to speak them. I shook my head at myself and finished emptying the kettle into the teapot as he replied.
“Why wouldn’t it be an option? You make me sound like some kind of slave driver,” he said with a confused laugh. But my statement hadn’t entirely been about him. I’d just never personally considerednot returningas an option. It had been my entire goal ever since he’d brought up purchasing this second nursery. Hadn’t it? My mind flickered to Alistair. I wasn’t ready to leave yet.
“Melantha is happy enough in your position here as head manager, and as you saw on your recent visit, she has nearly—not quite, mind you,but nearly—grown into the shoes you left for her to fill. She’s not there yet, but she will be. But of course, the position still belongs to you and is yours to return to, if you want it. The question is:do you want it?Because if you do plan to return to it, then they need to know that so they can make plans to relocate to Eastwood Heights soon so he can take the position there. However, if that is the case, then I would need you to return in the next week or so to take over for her here so that they can begin relocating. Stars know I’m too old for the daily task of management anymore, but I could do it for a week or two if I must.” I ignored his grumbling. The man was barely over 100 years old, which was hardly old at all for an elf.
“What would happen here?” I asked numbly. “What about The Floral Dilemma?”
“We could sell it,” he said, and even as he said it, I rejected the notion. “You’ve done such a nice job revitalizing it that I could easily turn a tidy profit already.”
“I don’t want to sell it.” It wasn’t mine to sell, but I knew my uncle would respect my wishes anyway.
“Well, it’s running well enough that if you think your man Artem could handle it, you could appoint him to management,” he offered, sounding unsure. He knew from their brief interactions just as well as I did how little Artem liked interacting with customers. “Or hire another manager. Or,” he continued, “if you are content to continue on as you are at The Floral Dilemma, then I could grant her this position permanently and her husband would take the position at the clinic here. She said both clinics have positives and negatives and he’s open to both placements. But then you would no longer have the option to return here as manager, so that’s why we all thought it would be best for you to choose what you wanted to do, and then Melantha and Ellin will make their plans from there. I hate to put you on the spot, my dear Lilith, but he will need to respond to these job offers shortly.”
I wanted to tell him I would return.Of course I would return. I’d done what I’d set out to do—I’d remade the shop, made it profitable, and was working on creating a steady enough flow of customers to make it sustainable. I’d pretty much completed all my goals. Mostly.
I ignored the pang of discomfort I felt about leaving behind The Floral Dilemma. It’s not like I was attached to the little store or the new regulars who’d started to pop in on delivery days to see what new plants were available. Or the grumpy old dryad. Or the peppy, chipper dwarf who drove us crazy. I just didn’t like leaving things unfinished, that was all. Artem wouldn’t behappyabout being left in charge, but he was more than capable, in myopinion. And surely he wouldn’t turn his nose up at whatever raise Boylen would ply him with for taking on the extra duties.
Alistair was a harder pang to ignore. The thought of not getting to see him again didn’t feel good at all.At all.
“Can I have a little bit of time to think about it?” My voice was shakier than I expected it to be, and Boylen’s tone took on a gentler inflection.
“Of course, dear one. And listen, I don’t want you to worry about me. You’ve spent your whole life working to make me proud, and you have. I am so proud. I’ve loved having the chance to work so closely with my family, and I adore you and Melantha both. You’re both good, strong workers, and I couldn’t ask for better. There is no wrong answer here for either of you. I want you to do what makes you happy.”
I was near tears as I thanked him and released the messenger, leaving my pot of tea untouched on the counter. I found myself drifting into the living room, standing in front of the pretty little pothos that Alistair had gifted me and actively ignoring the presumably judgy stares of the mushrooms and the warty little frog that had forcibly inserted themselves into my home and my heart. Alistair’s advice had been to simply allow the frog to stay and make sure he had a dish of water and feed him grubs.Grubs!
Well, if they insisted on being here, they could bear witness to my existential crises.
“How am I supposed to sort this out?” I asked the potted menagerie. Patrick simply blinked his big, empty eyes at me. No thoughts. The toadstools pretended like they couldn’t hear me.
I knew what my heart wanted.
But I also knew what was smart. Safe. Routine. Normal. I had my condo, and my friends, my family, all my familiar creature comforts back in New Caelora. The thought of shutting the door on all of that and starting a new life here was hard.I liked my old life. My mind drifted back to the wedding, though, tohow unhappy I’d been the whole time I’d been home and how desperately I’d just wanted to come back to Alistair, and we hadn’t even been together at that point.
Strangely, Alistair’s words from a conversation directly before that weekend came back to me then, from when he’d introduced me to the fuzz berry pastries and was describing how he missed the delicate fruit.“But, I think, somehow, that fleeting window of availability, their rarity, their uniqueness… It all makes them that much more special.”His words weighed heavy on my heart.
My window of availability for what I really wanted was fleeting, and unlike the fruit, I wasn’t willing to bank on this one coming around again.
I decided I wasn’t going to miss it.
Chapter 11
Alistair
A light tap soundedat my door, which was odd, because I knew from her scent that it was Lilith and we were well beyond the ‘polite knocking’ stage. So it was with an uneasy feeling that I opened the door.
She stood on the other side, holding my favorite little Ice Princess pothos, which I’d gifted to her so she could rehome the low-fae that had taken up residence in her house. Patrick the frog sat nestled under one of the leaves with his ever-placid expression betrayed by the rapid flickering of his tiny throat pouch as he hyperventilated. The toadstool-fae—nympha mordens—were doing their very best to appear as real mushrooms, nervously tilting their tiny faces downward to be less visible. They despised being transported.
“Is something wrong?” I asked, discomfort spiking as we made eye contact and I found that hers were troubled. Did she not want my plant any longer? Perhaps she wanted her tree back in exchange. I would happily give it back, but the pothos had been a gift. We didn’t need to make an exchange. Or maybe Patrickhad stopped eating the grubs I’d recommended for his feeding, and carrying the little pot was preferable to touching the frog. That I could understand—being opposed to the feeling of the mucus-like secretions myself—but I would have come down to her apartment to observe him if she’d asked.
I took a moment to drink in her features, noting the disquiet written across them. Her perfect, delectable lips were turned down at the corners. Her adorable, expressive eyebrows were currently pinched above the freckles that scattered across her pert, elvish nose. Her silken chestnut hair that just brushed her delicate jawline, clenched with tension. The radiant-looking skin that was paler than usual. Her beautifully rounded cheeks and soft figure that felt so perfect wrapped in my arms. I wanted to pull her into my arms right now, but she was holding herself strangely distant.
Her voice was emotionless when she finally spoke. “My uncle says the new nursery is doing well enough that he could trust someone else to run it now, and he has my place at the old store waiting for me if I want it.”
She was leaving.
