I laughed. “I take that as a no?”
“The airline has no idea where it is, but they’re completely convinced that they can locate the dress in time for the wedding,” she stated in a flat, skeptical tone. She rolled her eyes. “I still can’t believe they were that careless to begin with. Ivy is at a bridal shop in town right now looking for a replacement just in case. I'm going to head back out to help her, but I wanted to stop in and see how things were going here.” She shot me a pointed look that said she had enough to deal with without me causing trouble.
“So this Tess is talented?” she asked, opening the notebook to flip through the pages. She gave an audible gasp when she came across the sketch Tess did of the draping flowers. “Oh my! This is exquisite. I’ve never seen anything like this before.”
I was surprised by the pride I felt for the florist. “Tess drew that up while she was here like it was nothing. Her ideas are actually really good,” I murmured. “You should have heard the way she was talking about the wedding. I could tell she was really invested in making Ivy’s day one-of-a-kind.”
My mother gave a silent nod, continuing to gaze at the page, her eyes suddenly going teary.
I leaned over, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Are you okay?”
“It’s just so lovely. This is really something Mabel’s could provide? I never would’ve imagined something like this was possible in our little town.”
“That was all Tess,” I answered. “Her ideas and inspirations are bigger than Bradford Cove.”
“Do you mind if I take a picture of this and send it to Ivy? She could use some good news. She was pretty doubtful when I told her that I wanted local flowers, but this is going to change her mind.”
“I don’t mind,” I replied. “It’s not my drawing.”
My mother stopped flipping through the notebook suddenly. “You’re right,” she agreed. “It’s not your drawing.”
I frowned at her, trying to figure out what she was implying. She nodded her head toward the notebook and then back at me. “Ivy would love these flowers at her wedding, but thanks to you, the florist just took off running. Do you want to explain that to the bride-to-be?” she asked disapprovingly.
I suppressed a groan and shook my head. “No . . .”
The last thing I wanted was to tell my little sister that I was the one who had ruined any part of her big day, especially after her wedding dress had gotten lost somewhere between South Carolina and New York City.
“Well,” my mother huffed, passing me the notebook and her phone. “Don’t just stand there. Snap some photos and return this book with one hell of an apology so we can hire that woman!”
Chapter 8
Tess
Mabel and Hal continued to treat me as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened at all today, but I still couldn’t shake the guilt I felt for ruining our chances of landing the Bradford wedding. It also didn’t help that I couldn’t stop thinking about Rowan.
I was mortified that I’d let him make me look like a complete idiot.
If I ever saw him again . . .
Breathe, Tess. Don’t let another egotistical jerk ruin your life.
Easier said than done. It seemed I had a habit of attracting jerks. The last one drove me out of Chicago, which was how I ended up in this one-stoplight town.
Freaking Bradford Cove! Who did those people think they were? The Kennedys?
Ugh! I slapped a hand to my forehead as my conversation with Rowan came back to me. Why did I have to babble when I was nervous?
No! This was not my fault. This was entirely Rowan Bradford’s fault.
All he had to do was correct me when I called him Gerald! I thought southerners were supposed to be kind and compassionate, but Rowan had been downright cruel.
I stomped my way between the bouquets of flowers, eyes lingering on some of our most delicate blossoms. Instantly visions of wedding arrangements popped into my head. Cascading freesia, delicate anemone . . . they would’ve looked stunning with the Bradford Estate as the backdrop. And I had a feeling that Ivy would’ve loved it.
That was part of the reason I was so upset. The ideas I had for the Bradford wedding were good, or at least I thought so. I couldn’t help thinking if I’d been able to actually meet with the real groundskeeper, we might have actually had a good chance at giving Ivy the perfect flowers for her wedding.
At least according to what Rowan told me. But who knew if I could trust anything he’d said.
I wasn’t sure if the man was a pathological liar or just plain bored. Either way, I despised him for making me doubt myself and for taking away such an incredible opportunity from Mabel and Hal.
I was pretty sure working at a flower shop wasn’t what I wanted to do for the rest of my life. But I believed in doing everything to the best of my ability, true calling or not.
I paced the aisles of the tiny shop, muttering to myself to keep from going stir crazy. I couldn’t help feeling that the universe was mocking me. I was surrounded by flowers and greeting cards that were practically shoving love and romance down my throat. And then today, I’d gone to that beautiful home and walked around with an even more beautiful man. But just like a fairytale, it’d turned out to be make believe.
I didn’t believe in love, not for me, not after Chicago . . . But I wasn’t a complete cynic. It was impossible to spend a year with Mabel and Hal and not believe true love existed. And for a moment today, it had felt nice to be a part of a love story, even if it was someone else’s.
I would have loved to give Ivy the most spectacular wedding flowers she could dream of. A girl’s wedding should be beautiful and special. And I knew I could’ve done that . . . if Rowan hadn’t taken it all away.
Again, anger stirred in my belly.
It had been nice to feel like I had a purpose for a little while.
The typical sales that Mabel made tended to be simpler things, a bouquet for an anniversary, occasionally some minor arrangements for a birthday, but she’d never done a wedding before.
This could’ve changed everything. Plus, I’d been dying for something big to occupy my restless mind. I’d truly thought seeing Ivy’s wedding announcement in the paper had been the sign I was waiting for.
In my absent-minded pacing I caught my toe on one of the poorly taped down power cords and stumbled into the display of potted plants, sending one poor terracotta dish of succulents to their death.
“Shoot!”
“Ya okay over there, darlin’?” Hal called, poking his head out from the back.
“Yeah, all good.”
I quickly grabbed a broom and dustpan and began cleaning up my mess, muttering under my breath. “If I ever see that Rowan Bradford again, I'm going to give him a real piece of my mind . . .”
The bell on the front door rang merrily, and Mabel’s cheery voice filled the shop. “My oh my! If it isn’t Rowan Bradford! It’s so good to see you, sugar.”
Rowan! I gave a yelp and spun clumsily around, popping my head up like a prairie dog searching for danger. Spotting the culprit, I gasped and ducked down again to hide behind the plants. Holy crap! He was here!
Catching my breath, I inched my head up just high enough to peer over the plants, watching as the blue-eyed man leaned over the counter toward Mabel.
“Hi, Miss Mabel,” he greeted politely, his voice just barely marked by the southern drawl everyone else in town had. “It’s great to see you too.”
“It’s been forever and a day since I saw that handsome face of yours. What brings you in, sugar?”
He ducked his head, his ears turning red as he cleared his throat. “Um, actually, I was just looking for Tess Taylor.”
“Tess?” Mabel asked, her eyes immediately shifting toward where I was half hidden.
Oh, hell no! That jerk was not gonna make me look like an idiot twice in one day. I jerked to my feet, pride snapping my shoulders back with force as I pretended to be inspecting the nearby bouquets. I turned around and d
rew my hand to my chest like I’d seen Mabel do a thousand times before.
“Oh, it’s you,” I muttered, wiping the dirt off my palms as I approached Rowan, feigning indifference.
Folding my arms across my chest with tangible disdain I scowled at the man in front of me. As annoyed as I was to see him right now, I hated that I couldn’t help marveling at how good-looking he was. It wasn’t even fair.
He’d cleaned off his grease and changed. His khaki boat shorts showed off tan, toned legs that I instantly imagined sinking my teeth into. And his crisp blue button-down had me drowning in his baby blues again.
Dammit! Get a grip, Tess! Stop being blinded by jerks!
Rowan had the nerve to grin at me. It was the ice bath I needed.
I glared at him. “Is there something I can help you with?”
“Tess!” Mabel hissed, cutting her eyes at me for my rude tone. “This is Mr. Bradford.”
“Rowan,” he said, grinning even more. “Bradford. Just wanted to put it out there right away.”
He chuckled like this was all some hilarious joke but I didn’t return the gesture, my foot tapping on the ground.
“What can we do for you, Mr. Bradford?” I asked sharply, keeping my tone as formal and professional as possible.
There was a faint flutter of commotion as Hal walked in from the back room, greeting Rowan in the same familiar way as his wife. After their pleasantries, he took his place beside Mabel as the pair looked curiously between me and Rowan. Mabel gave Hal an unsubtle look, wiggling her eyebrows. They both chuckled at some inside joke I was too irate to care about. I only had eyes for Rowan, and I was seeing red.
Finally sensing my aggravation, Rowan had the good sense to look embarrassed. His cheeks flushed as he held out my notebook. “You forgot this when you left.”
Without breaking eye contact, I silently reached out and snatched it. He didn’t deserve a thank you, but I could be the bigger person. “Thanks,” I muttered curtly.
He smiled nervously this time. “Listen, I owe you an apology.”
You most certainly do. I crossed my arms, waiting. But then I realized, this wasn’t the place for it. I didn’t want Mabel and Hal to hear this. They’d only ask questions and then I’d have to tell them how horribly I’d screwed up.
Crap! Did I owe him an apology too?
I took Rowan by the arm, my mouth nearly falling open at the solid muscle my fingers wrapped around. He allowed me to lead him away from Mabel and Hal’s curious ears, to the front stoop of the shop.
“Look,” I hissed, “I'm sorry, too. It was a crappy day and what’s done is done. But I need this job so please let’s just forget everything that happened today.”
He shot me a shocked look. “You have nothing to apologize for, Tess. Everything you said is true, and honestly, it’s nothing I haven’t thought myself.” His features twisted and that strange sadness clouded his eyes again. “Today was my fault, Tess.” He shook his head, taking a step closer. “I realize now it was incredibly rude of me to waste your time.”
“I'm glad we agree,” I shot back.
Tension broken, he huffed a laugh. With our apologies out of the way, the conversation fell into a lull and that same awkward silence began to creep over us once more. I shifted from one foot to the other, glancing at my notebook. I was glad to have it back. Even though this wasn’t my dream career, those sketches meant something to me. I’d put effort into them and just because they’d been wasted on Rowan, didn’t mean they wouldn’t make someone else happy someday.
Slowly, I looked back up at Rowan, whose expression seemed to be caught between discomfort and hesitant hope. “Listen,” he started, at the exact time that I said, “Is there anything else you need?”
We both stopped talking and laughed awkwardly once more.
Mabel giggled from the window. I turned to glare at her, and she quickly ducked her head pretending to busy herself with something. I groaned internally. Like I needed an audience to make me feel even more tongue-tied?
“I didn't come out here just to give your notebook back,” Rowan said, pulling my attention back to him.
I cocked my head, trying to figure out where he was going with this. Strangely, he seemed to be gathering courage for something.
“After you left, I showed your sketches to my mother. She said they’re perfect.”
“Perfect?” I echoed, a flush rising to my face. “That’s nice of her to say but that’s definitely not the case. I still have a lot to learn.”
Rowan shrugged his massive shoulders.
It was kind of funny to see such a stalwart, serious-faced man framed by the delicate flowers climbing up the outside of Mabel’s shop. But as he took another careful step closer to me, all my humor drained away, replaced by the burning heat his close proximity ignited within me.
“What I'm trying to say, Tess, is that we want to hire you for the wedding.” Rowan looked at me with concern, clarifying even more when I didn’t respond. “We want you to be our florist.”
Hearing him say it aloud made me feel as though the wind had been knocked out of me. I sucked in a ragged breath, blinking dazed eyes while Mabel shrieked from inside the shop. In a moment both her and Hal were surrounding me, crushing me with excited hugs.
“That’s our girl!” Hal announced.
“I knew you could do it!” Mabel added, planting a big kiss on my cheek.
“What?” I gasped, hands flying to my cheeks. Even in all the commotion my eyes never left Rowan’s. And the way he was smiling at me was making it hard to wrap my head around what was happening. “But I . . . after what happened, I just assumed . . .”
Rowan smiled and a warmth overtook his blue eyes, blotting out the hidden sorrow I was beginning to become accustomed to. It was the kind of warmth that could wrap around you like a blanket, making you feel safe and secure. Without thinking, I let his smile draw me in, taking a step toward him as if drawn by his magnetic warmth. Something in his eyes changed as I drew closer and it broke the spell, forcing me to stop myself before I got too close.
This wouldn’t be the first time I was drawn in by a man with a smile that could light up a room. I might be doing okay at this florist thing, but I didn’t trust my heart yet. At least not right now, and definitely not with a man like Rowan Bradford.
“Tess,” Mabel said, nodding her head toward Rowan and clearing her throat. “Rowan wants to make a sale.”
“Oh!” I replied, giving myself a rousing shake and focusing on the sale procedure. “Right. You’ll have to sign a contract and make a deposit,” I started slowly as if expecting him to change his mind.
His smile returned. “Sure. Should we go inside?”
We all bustled into the shop and I followed Mabel behind the counter where she passed me a contract. I shot a furtive smile at her, which she responded to with a wink, and then I marched diligently back over toward Rowan with the proper forms and a pen.
“Now,” I began, locking eyes with him as I started to explain the paperwork he was about to sign. Even though it made me blush to look into his eyes, this was business and I needed to be as professional as possible. I just hoped he wasn’t replaying every crude thing I’d said earlier in the back of his mind.
I cleared my throat. “With the ideas we discussed today, I’ll have to do a lot by hand so that increases the cost. Then, with the draping and the centerpieces . . .” I tallied up each line as I went, showing him each calculation so he could see it for himself, “this is the total. We only need ten percent today as a deposit.”
I pushed the bill toward him, watching as he picked up the contract and thumbed through it. He spent so much time going over every itemized thing that I started to sweat. I glanced at Mabel, but she just winked again. She looked so calm it made me relax a little.
Finally, Rowan picked up the pen and signed the contract with a practiced hand before handing it back toward me.
I beamed at him until I noticed that he’d crossed out the total
I’d written and scribbled in his own.
“Rowan!” I gasped in shock. “That’s not the invoice amount!”
“I know,” he replied, talking with a deep nonchalant tenor. “I tripled it.”
“But . . . but . . .” I whispered. “Why? Just because you feel bad that you were a jerk?”
He chuckled and shook his head. “No. Because you just got done explaining all the special things you need to do to make this wedding happen and then you wrote down a number that doesn’t reflect the hard work you’re about to put in. Think of all the hours you’re going to spend making sure every detail is perfect, Tess. You’re barely giving yourself a decent hourly wage. Then there’s materials, flowers, and all of that.”
I stared at him, stunned. Was this really the same guy who I was determined to sock in the face not too long ago?
“Still . . .” I whispered, biting my lip.
Rowan set the pen down on the counter. “Value yourself, Tess, and your work,” he concluded with that same warm tone that made a small shiver roll through me. He pulled his checkbook from his back pocket and gave me the generous deposit.
Even though I wanted to argue, I could tell there was no sense in it.
This time, at least, Rowan Bradford was going to get his way.
I couldn’t help it. The guy was probably still a class-A jerk, but my heart was full. Against all odds, I’d come through for Mabel and Hal. And the proud way they were beaming at me was almost enough for me to forget that I’d now be seeing a lot more of Rowan Bradford.
“If you think I'm going to forget you were such an ass because of this, you have another thing coming,” I offered playfully, smirking up at him when his eyebrows lifted slightly in surprise.
A smile curved his mouth. “Then let me take you out to dinner and make it up to you,” he countered, eyes flashing. “Just a friendly night out on the town so I can make a better impression.”
Time seemed to skid to a halt at the jarring offer. My hands abruptly clenched so tight that I almost crumpled the check in my hands.
Palmetto Passion: A Sweet Small Town Family Romance (The Bradford Brothers Book 1) Page 6
