She snips the chunk of hair she’s holding taut between her fingers and then her head turns and she sees me.
Her smile blooms, spreading quickly—all the way to her eyes.
I smile back at her.
She looks down at the flowers in my arms and her brow scrunches.
I approach her station. “Hi, Angie.”
“Hi, EJ.”
Her customer, Glenda, smiles at me. “Well hello, EJ.”
“Glenda.” I nod at her.
“I came to ask you a favor,” I say to Angie.
Knowing she might resist me giving her flowers, I came up with a plan on the drive over from the flower mart.
“A favor?” her eyes drift to the bouquet again.
“Yes. A favor.” I hold the bouquet out. “Could you keep these for me?”
“You brought me flowers?” she asks, her arms crossing over her chest.
“I brought flowers.” I agree. Then I say, “You’re going to take them—as a favor to me.”
She narrows her eyes.
“Does that mean I brought them for you?” I ask. “That’s entirely up to you.”
“Isn’t that just the sweetest?” Glenda says.
Angie smiles. “As a favor.”
“I’ll need you to put them in water. And there’s a packet of food. Jayme said you’d know what to do with it.”
“I do,” Angie says, her arms dropping from their crossed position.
“Well, that’s a relief. They’re way too pretty to die an early death.”
She laughs softly and extends her hand. I give her the bouquet. Our fingers brush and I feel the contact like air rushing into my lungs after holding my breath far too long.
“Thank you, EJ,” she says. “And, Saturday.”
The word sounds foreign at first. I’m so befuddled.
I didn’t anticipate how I’d feel seeing her in person again for the first time since our night out—the first time since we kissed.
“Saturday?” I ask.
She smiles, waiting for me to catch up.
“Oh! Saturday.” She is saying I can take her out Saturday, isn’t she?
She keeps smiling.
I smile back. “Okay. Saturday. Good. Great. I’ll see you then.”
