by Meg Jolie
For that to happen, I would eventually need to make a bit more money. And maybe, just maybe, some expansion would allow for that.
He let out a relieved laugh. “Well, here’s to hoping Claire’s business starts booming.”
“Here’s to hoping,” I echoed with a smile in my voice. “So, how was your fishing trip?”
“Good,” he said. “A friend and I try to get away a couple of weekends every summer. Summer is the busiest time for both of us at work, but that’s why it’s nice to take a weekend for myself. Anyhow, this friend of mine, his family owns this cabin up north. It’s nothing fancy, in fact, they just recently got electricity. But it’s a great place to spend the weekend. We’ve been doing it for a few years. It’s nothing special—just real secluded, no phone reception or anything—but sometimes that’s just what a person needs. You know?”
“Yeah,” I agreed. I did know. “It sounds relaxing.”
“It is,” he admitted. “Do you fish?”
“Me?” I asked in surprise. “Uh, no.”
“That’s too bad. I might have to change that.” I cringed, not agreeing but not wanting to argue, either. Instead, I tried to compromise. “I do like going for a boat ride, though. When I was younger, we used to go to the lake a lot. I love to water ski. Or at least I used to but it’s been ages since I’ve gone. But no, to answer your question, I never got into fishing. I’m sure I’d be perfectly happy just watching someone else fish.”
He laughed at that, and then a moment of silence followed
“So, this weekend?” he finally said. “Are you free?”
I let out a dramatic groan. “That depends. Are you going to try to teach me how to fish?”
He laughed again and I smiled into the phone, loving the sound of it.
“Nah, not this weekend,” he decided.
“Then I’m absolutely free.”
He was quiet again, as if tossing an idea around.
“And if I don’t want to wait that long?” he finally asked.
Without missing a beat I said, “I wouldn’t mind at all. Because really, I don’t want to wait that long either.”
“Now that’s what I like to hear. How about tomorrow night? I could take you to that Italian place I was telling you about.”
“I don’t know,” I teased. “Is that your way of getting out of the dinner you’re supposed to be cooking me?”
He laughed. “Nah. That’s my way of making sure you go out with me more than once. So the Italian restaurant tomorrow, a homemade meal later?”
“Sounds too good to resist,” I agreed.
Alex cleared his throat. “So, uh, are you going to tell me why you really just up and left that morning? Are you sure I didn’t do something wrong? Because if I did, I want to know. I want to make damn sure I don’t make the same mistake twice.”
I cringed because I should’ve known that was coming. I really hated that he thought he was at fault. That was so far from the truth. And even though I’d already given him an explanation, I thought it was really sweet that he was still concerned.
I rested my head on the back of the lawn chair and pinched the bridge of my nose. Without opening my eyes I said, “I told you. I really was just embarrassed. That’s the honest truth. You did absolutely nothing wrong. In fact, you were perfect. It was me, all me. I’ve never done anything like that before. I’ve only been with two guys, before you, I mean. They were both long-term relationships. Really, I guess I just panicked.”
“And you didn’t call me back because…?”
“I was afraid of what you thought of me. I mean,” I took a breath, deciding after the past few weeks, he deserved some honesty, “after something like that happens, I wasn’t sure what you’d be expecting from me in the future.”
He laughed at that but it was a hearty laugh, one that made me smile.
“Well, that works both ways you know. How am I supposed to know you aren’t going out with me again for my body alone? Maybe I’m worried that you don’t like me for my brain.”
I shook my head but I was still smiling. “Point taken. So maybe we can just pretend that night never happened?”
“Oh, hell no. It happened. And I’m not gonna lie. I hope it happens again. But for both of our sanities, I don’t think it should happen again for a while. I’ve got to be sure you like me, for me,” he teased.
Or at least, I thought he was teasing.
“Fair enough,” I agreed. Oddly, his words put me at ease. While that night had been…enjoyable, I was glad he also thought it was best to slow things down.
Or more like back them up.
“So tomorrow night, I’ll pick you up at six.”
“I can’t wait,” I admitted.
*******
“What do you think?” I asked as I sat back, showing my work off to Dottie.
Her lips twisted into something that was far from a smile.
“You don’t like it?”
She placed a hand on my shoulder and squeezed. “It’s not that I don’t like it. It’s just that I think it could be better.”
Meaning, obviously, that she didn’t like it. I tried not to be disappointed. I’d put a lot of time into these ideas. I’d been brainstorming for weeks but had finally laid everything out on an idea board. The final stages of the project had helped to keep my mind off of Alex over the weekend while he was away. And even this morning, as I tried not to think too much about our impending date tonight.
It was impossible to put it completely out of my mind. We’d talked on the phone for over an hour. I was thrilled that he’d decided he didn’t want to wait for the weekend. Just the very thought set butterflies loose in my stomach.
Butterflies? I felt like I was in high school again.
I shook my head, trying to make myself focus.
Back to my idea board.
I squinted; scrutinizing my work, trying to see it the way Dottie was seeing it. “What would you recommend?” I finally asked.
She lifted a shoulder. “It’s all so commercialized. You go to all of the trouble of starting up a website, you should offer people something truly special. When people order flowers, it’s because there’s something special going on in someone’s life. They deserve to find special gifts to go along with the flowers. I mean these gift ideas you’ve chosen are okay. But they should be better than okay. They should be truly special.”
I felt a frown settle onto my face. “Do you have any suggestions?” I truly wanted to know. I was open to hearing them. Dottie was right. Getting the website up and running was a lot of work. I did want to make it worth our time.
“Avoid commercialized. Everyone does commercialized.”
“Okay.” I waited. I needed more than that. In theory, of course it sounded good. In reality, I wasn’t sure how to pull it off. “How do you suggest I do that?” I wondered.
“Work with some local people,” she recommended. “We have craft fairs in town a couple of times a summer. You can find jewelry, handcrafted wood pieces, things like jewelry boxes or small board games. At least then you know your quality is topnotch and you’re offering customers something that they can’t find at every single flower shop that’s online.”
I nodded slowly, letting her ideas sink in.
“I could help you with it,” she offered. “If you’re truly interested I could introduce you to some people. It would take some work though. More work than ordering a stuffed bear or a set of wine glasses out of some stuffy supply catalog.”
“Can I think about it? I’d really like to see what Claire thinks,” I said. “I think it’s a fantastic idea. But you’re right. It really could be a lot of work, lining up the gifts and keeping an appropriate inventory. I think she should have final say on something like this.”
Dottie nodded. “Of course she should. And I know you’re real busy on the weekends but a few weeks from now there will be a craft fair down on the riverfront. Maybe the two of you should head on down there. Scope out a few things, sm
all items that would be easy to keep on hand. Meet a few of the artisans.”
“That sounds good,” I agreed. “I’ll check with Claire to see if she’s free.”
She gave my shoulder a squeeze before padding away, back to the worktables in the other room.
I glanced at my idea board again. She was right. The gifts were okay. But just okay. If we really wanted the online part of the business to take off, we were going to have to offer something that would really stand out.
I sat back, trying to visualize my idea board with handcrafted items on it. I was trying to get a feel for small things that would be easy to store if purchased ahead of time. Or maybe we’d have to commission items as they were ordered. That, I realized, could get complicated. While Dottie’s idea was a good one, unfortunately, it was not without complications, as she’d admitted.
I was surprised a few minutes later when Dottie came back into the office, hustling Claire along with her. Apparently she didn’t want to waste any time.
“Okay,” Claire said with a laugh. “What’s this about?” She whisked away a strand of hair that had fallen in her face and tucked it behind her ear. Her other hand held a cluster of purple flowers that I couldn’t identify. As far as this job went, I still had a long way to go. I had a hunch I might never be much help with the flowers. I might just have to stick to the bookwork.
And the website.
I shot a look at Dottie, who wore an uncharacteristically smug look.
“Well, go on now,” she said as she waved her hand at me to explain. “You said you needed to talk to Claire. So tell her what we discussed.”
I laughed at her enthusiasm. I hadn’t meant that I needed to talk to Claire right then, that moment. But…now that she was here, why not?
“Well,” I said, sliding my idea board to the side because now it felt a little worthless, “Dottie just had a fantastic brainstorm.” I could swear Dottie actually blushed at my compliment. I went on to explain to Claire that Dottie thought we should commission local goods from local artisans. I reiterated that as long as we were going to the trouble of a website, we might as well go all out.
Dottie jumped in, telling Claire that there were a few craft fairs coming up. Claire nodded patiently, staying quiet for the most part, absorbing it all.
“I like it,” she finally said. “In fact, I like it so much that I think maybe we should make room for a display in the store. Like a mini gift shop, maybe? Oh, yeah,” she said as her own idea took hold. “I think it would be great to expand that direction as well. To be honest, I think that would be far more profitable than anything we’d sell because of the website. Although, if items were listed on the website, it would probably bring more people in.
“I can’t tell you how many husbands come in getting flowers for their wives but who are looking for something special. Something a little…more. I think handcrafted jewelry would be a fabulous idea. We get a lot of business that goes up to the hospital, to new moms. Maybe handcrafted toys would be a good idea? Another thing I always thought would be profitable, I was just never sure where to start, but party favors for weddings. Brides are always looking for unique gifts to give. I would love to have some products on hand to show them when they come in to pick out bouquets.”
Her eyes were narrowed, as if she was trying to visualize it. “We could rearrange so that I could put displays in the center of the store. Just a little something unique that would set us apart.” She nodded, maybe to herself, maybe to us. Maybe to both. “I like it. Let’s do it,” she said. “Let’s go to the craft fair and see what connections we can make.”
Dottie rolled back on the heels of her orthopedic sneakers. She looked pleased with herself. Claire had been right. The woman was an asset and Claire had been lucky to have her. I had been thinking on this for weeks and the two of them had just blown my ideas out of the water. Now that I knew what Claire wanted, I was determined to make that happen.
“Speaking of weddings,” Dottie said, “you really do need to try to find time to attend a few of those bridal events that they hold.”
“Bridal events?” I questioned Claire.
She shrugged. “Expos. You know, where businesses go to set up booths. It’s a way to get your name out there, your products. I’m sure it’s a great way to drum up business. I’ve just never had the time. They’re typically on Saturdays and I just can’t ever seem to get away.”
“Let me know when the next one is. I’d be happy to set up a booth.”
She arched an eyebrow at me. “Seriously?”
I nodded. “Sure, why not? It sounds kind of fun. Since I am working for you, you can feel free to delegate these things to me.”
“All right then,” she said with a little smile. Then that little smile grew. “I love these new ideas. I mean, the shop is doing just fine. But I’d really love to take everything to the next level. Maybe, depending on how thing go I could change the name to The Petal Pusher Gift Shop.”
“Well then,” I said decisively, “that’s exactly what we’ll help you do.”
Chapter 12
I had a much easier time picking out clothes for our second date. Perhaps the first date jitters had been laid to rest. Or maybe it was because after our phone call last night, I felt I knew Alex a little bit better. He was so easy to talk to, so laidback. I was excited for our date tonight.
I slid into a pair of cream colored capris and a silk, aqua tunic-style tank top. I loved the color because it set off my eyes, changing them from a dull gray to a subtle blue. I decided to wear my hair down, polish my nails, and go light on my make-up.
Claire was at Sean’s again so when Alex arrived, I hurried to the door. I swung it open, a smile tugging my lips up instantly at the sight of him.
“Hey, you,” he said.
“Hey,” I said back. “You look really nice.” He had on a pair of dark washed jeans and a white polo. It set off his tan.
And my damn butterflies.
“You too,” he said as he stepped inside. He pulled me into his arms for a lingering hug that I wasn’t expecting. His lips skimmed across my cheek in an almost-kiss.
“You have no idea how much I’ve been looking forward to tonight,” he said into my ear.
“You’re not the only one,” I assured him.
He nuzzled my neck, his warm breath causing my knees to go weak and my toes to curl inside of my sandals. His hand slid to the small of my back, pressing me gently against him. I thought he was going to kiss me for real this time. I was waiting for him to kiss me, but after a quick squeeze his arms slipped away.
I immediately felt the loss.
“Are Claire and Alex around?” he asked.
I shook my head. “No. Alex had been filling in on a softball league but someone quit so now he’s playing full time. He has games or practice just about every night now. Claire goes with to watch.”
“All right,” he said easily. “I was just going to say hello if they were here. But since they’re not…” He reached for my hand. “Should we get going?”
I nodded as I let him guide me to his truck.
“Tonight is actually a game night,” I said. “Alex said we’re welcome to stop by and watch later on. If you don’t have anything else planned.”
“That sounds good,” he said as he reached out to open my door. He glanced up at the sky. It had been cloudless earlier in the day but now, it was turning gray and I realized the temp had dropped just a bit. “I hadn’t thought much past dinner but I’m open to spending the whole evening with you. There’s not much going on around town on a weeknight. But watching a ball game sounds perfect, if the weather cooperates.”
I hopped in and he closed my door. I took a moment to admire his profile as he rounded the front of his truck.
“What’s the name of the restaurant that we’re going to?” I asked when he got in.
“Bianca’s,” he said. “I have a table reserved for us on the patio. I thought it was a perfect evening for dining alfresco.
Or it should be, as long as the rain holds off.”
I couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiasm.
When we arrived at the restaurant, it was easy to see why he seemed to enjoy it so much. The setting was elegant, yet it felt inviting as opposed to stuffy.
The waitress, a woman several years older than us, greeted him by name. Clearly, he enjoyed eating here a lot. After confirming with him that he wanted his usual table, she led us to a spot on the patio. The table was in the corner so it afforded us just a bit more privacy than some of the other tables.
Terra cotta tiles covered the ground. Wrought iron tables were scattered throughout. A tall, wrought iron fence covered in thick ivy separated the patio from the business behind us.
As I slid into the seat that Alex had pulled out for me, my stomach rumbled. If the aroma lingering in the air was any indication, I was sure the food would be divine.
I glanced around as he took a seat. There were several other patrons out here but the tables were spaced a nice distance apart.
“You must come here a lot,” I said after our hostess left.
He gave me a sheepish grin. “Is it that obvious?”
“It must just mean that the food is good,” I decided.
“It is,” he assured me.
I scanned the menu, having no idea how to narrow it down. “What do you recommend?” I finally asked.
“Everything,” he said with a smirk. “There isn’t a bad choice on the menu.”
I smiled at his enthusiasm.
“But,” he said as he tapped his fingers on the table, “if you really want a suggestion I would have to say the Pappardelle alla Bolognese.”
I glanced at the menu again, curious.
“It’s right here,” he said as he leaned over and pointed it out to me. “It’s one of my favorite dishes.”
I decided to go with his suggestion and I was glad I did. We kept the conversation light throughout dinner. Most of the talk revolved around food. Favorite foods, favorite restaurants. My love for cooking.
How stuffed I was after eating every last bite.
“So tell me,” he said as the waitress took our empty plates away, “do you miss Bedford yet?”
