Now, while I watched, he was moving at a pace that had no particular destination. It was obvious that he wasn’t walking with any purpose. That was common in our town, with its widesidewalks and hanging flower baskets. The charming downtown was designed for strolling, and the shops with their decorated windows practically screamed for pedestrians. But he was shooting looks over to the side, particularly over at my shop.
I watched him for a second because it’s one of those things you do, right? Tracking movement while you’re doing something else. My eyes caught him before my brain really identified who it was, and by then he’d looked up.
His expression was the same one he’d had last night, with that particular attention as he paused before he kept walking. There was no wave or nod that would be natural in the case of a friend or even a fellow townie, but I didn’t even give one either. Instead, I could only step back from the window in discomfort.
There I was, a grown-ass woman, feeling nervous about a guy from a pizza place after just three seconds of eye contact. I stood there for a moment, holding the mister against my chest with the heater humming, trying to find the thing that had clenched in my sternum when he looked at me and decided it was nothing.
It was nothing. What could I even tell my brothers? Or Rhodes, when he had asked? That it was a feeling? The man hadn’t done anything.
By mid-morning, I had brushed it off and shifted my focus to tidying up. The whole shop had been cleaned, and the display cooler was filled with new blooms delivered from the wholesaler. There was one small arrangement of stems left over on the windowsill that was too pretty to throw away, and I was halfway through a custom order for the Handler’s anniversary order.
The door rang out around eleven, and Lila appeared in the frame, her dark hair loose around her shoulders, holding a bakery box in one hand and a coffee tray in the other.
"I brought you over two snickerdoodle muffins because I accidentally texted you before seven this morning,” she winced. “Sorry. I know you hate that. And I brought you a make-up chai with foam.” She set everything down on a clear corner with practiced ease. My bestie was a sight for sore eyes, and she brought snacks and coffee.
“You’re forgiven, but only because you brought acceptable offerings.” I put down my floral tape and reached for the chai. “You have no idea how desperate I’ve been for this.”
She settled onto my work stool with the ease of someone who had sat on it about four hundred times and pulled her own coffee from the carrier. I already knew at this time of the morning it would be a cappuccino to get her through the next part of her day. I had to give it to her. The early morning grind would kill me, but Lila seemed to take it all in stride with a smile on her face. She was doing better at balancing things now that she’d hired Phiny to help her out, and my sister seemed to have settled into town life again after her time in San Francisco. Maybe Phiny could be happy here, although all of us Holts still felt like Phiny was hiding something from us.
Now she was watching me over the rim of her cup with that particular quality that best friends had that told you that they knew you. Lila was attentive and patient, which was enormously useful when she was being a friend, but mildly terrifying otherwise.
"So," she said.
"No."
"I haven't said anything yet."
"You said 'so' in that voice, which is the same as saying everything." I went back to the Handler arrangements. They were having a dinner party for their fiftieth and wanted one large buffet table arrangement and then smaller ones for the dinner tables. I’d already finished the smaller vases, but I wanted to add an extra touch to the centerpiece. “Whatever you heard, it was embellished."
“Well, I wasn’t sure when it first came up at the shop this morning, but now …” Lila tilted her head speculatively. “Apparently, you were seen last night out to dinner at Donatello’s.”
“Girl has to eat.” Keeping my chill, I selected some more blooms and stabbed them through the floral foam. “It was just dinner.”
I threw a ranunculus at her as she laughed and ducked away. “East has already asked me about it, by the way, wondering whether he should murder the guy or sabotage his pergola. Then he remembered he can’t sabotage anything because, first of all.” She ticked them off on her fingers. “He likes him. Wade likes him. He’s like a super-soldier, and Opal.”
“Save me from my brothers,” I begged. Biting my lip, I asked, “Any idea about what the story is with Opal’s mom?”
My personal line in the sand for getting involved with men was to stay away if they were already in a relationship. No way was I going to step on someone else’s man. There were rules I had for dating, and that was definitely one of them. Once a cheater, always a cheater. That was a lesson I learned the hard way. Also,women should support women. I didn’t need to be the mean girl. There were plenty of those out there.
Lila looked hesitant, and I didn’t blame her; it wasn’t really fair to ask her to break confidence with my brother. She and I had been navigating this new phase in our friendship, adjusting to her married life. Friendships changed once a significant other was involved. I didn’t begrudge Lila her happiness, especially with East, but it was a transition for us. We’d never kept secrets from each other, and now I had to respect that they were their own unit.
“You don’t have to tell me if it’s something that East told you in confidence. I should be asking Rhodes myself. It’s just …”
“I get it. You’re wondering how much you should be investing or if he’s even free.” Lila was nodding, and I felt that wave of relief. She totally got me. “Well, he’s a thousand percent free and clear of his ex-wife. Both he and Opal. You should totally ask him about it. He seems like a really good man. East really likes him, and we all know that Wade trusts him. He did something for Kipp, too. I’m still not sure what it was. Doyoulike him?”
“My brothers like everyone,” I deflected.
She smiled into her cup, the one that signified she knew exactly what I was doing—covering up what I truly meant, and not answering her question. Instead, I shot Vera a pointed look as I finished the arrangement and placed it in the cooler.
"He asked me to put together the greenhouse plans," I said, pushing the cooler door shut with my hip. "I sent them over. I'm a professional."
"That's three sentences, all of which are technically true and none of which address what I actually asked."
"You didn't ask anything."
"Sage."
I put both hands on the workbench and looked at my best friend. She and I always told each other everything … almost everything. Lately, I’d asked her not to tell me about the sex she had with my brother, because those were details I didn’t need to hear.
