"Thank you. Are you in town for the centennial?"
"Working it, actually. Security assessment."
Her expression shifted slightly. Recognition without surprise. "You must be Ronan Cross. Mitch mentioned you."
"Good things, I hope."
"He said you seemed competent." Her mouth curved. "From Mitch, that's high praise."
"I'll take it." He picked up a small succulent in a ceramic pot, examining it without really seeing it. "How long have you had the shop?"
"Three years. It was my parents’ before me, actually. They ran it for years." Izzy moved behind the counter, straightening a display of ribbon. "Blossom Springs is good for flower shops. Lots of weddings. Lots of funerals. Lots of people who like to apologize with roses."
"And you grew up here?"
"Born and raised. Left for a while, but—" She shrugged. "The town has a way of pulling you back."
"I've heard that."
"From Lila?"
He looked up. Izzy's expression was innocent enough. She had the look of a woman who’d been raised in a small town and had learned to wrap her opinions in pleasant smiles. The smile was there. The pleasantness was negotiable.
"We've talked. She's coordinating the event."
"She's been doing all the flowers for the centennial. Worked with me for months on the arrangements for the dedication ceremony, the dinner, the memorial." Izzy tilted her head. "She's good people. I've known her since we were kids."
"Is that a warning?"
"It's information." Her smile was still pleasant, but her eyes had gone cool. "Lila's been through a lot. Her dad, her engagement falling apart, and taking care of her mom before she went into the nursing home. She doesn't need any more complications."
"I'm just here to do a job."
"I'm sure you are." Izzy held his gaze for a beat too long. "Let me know if you need any arrangements while you're in town. We deliver."
He set down the succulent and nodded. "Thanks for your time."
The bell chimed again as he left. He could feel her eyes on his back all the way across Main Square.
Mitch DeMario's wife was protective of Lila. Observant. Not someone who missed much.
He filed that information away and kept walking.
The storm came out of nowhere.
One minute, the sky was clear. The next, the clouds rolled in from the Gulf like a curtain being pulled, and the rain hit Main Street hard enough to empty the sidewalks in seconds.
Ronan was halfway between the flower shop and his car when it started. He ducked under the awning of the hardware store and waited, watching the rain turn the street into a river.
Lila came around the corner at a full sprint.
She was soaked. Her blouse was plastered to her shoulders, her hair streaming water, the canvas bag over her arm heavy with whatever she’d been carrying. She spotted him under the awning and changed direction, arriving in a spray of water and breathless laughter.
“Where did that come from?” She shook her head like a dog, and water flew in all directions. Some of it hit him. She didn’t apologize.
“Gulf squall. They blow through fast.”
“You sound like a weather channel.” She leaned against the storefront wall and wrung out the hem of her blouse. Water pooled around her shoes. “This is a disaster. I have a meeting in twenty minutes, and I look like I went swimming fully clothed.”
