“Thank you.” I laughed as a blush bloomed in my cheeks.
He waggled his eyebrows in response. “It’s all part of the service. Hey, where’s your accent from? Australia?”
Ha! At least he had the right hemisphere. “New Zealand.”
“New Zealand, huh? That’s cool. Looks like a great place to visit.”
“No ‘it’s a long way away’ or ‘I’ve seen the Lord of the Rings movies’?” I replied and immediately regretted it. Just because that was people’s usual reaction didn’t mean this guy was going to say it.
“No,” he replied uncertainly.
“Sorry, force of habit.”
He smiled at me, and I swear my heart skipped a beat. “Want some help with that?” He gestured at Sabrina’s scooter, lying in the gutter.
“Oh, my god, the scooter!” My hand flew to my face. Sabrina’s gorgeous shiny red Vespa! In my post-accident-hot-guy haze, I hadn’t given Velma a second thought.
“Let me do it.” In one deft move, he lifted it up by the handlebars and righted it on its stand. “Cool bike. My . . . um, friend has one just like it.
“It’s not even mine. It belongs to a friend.”
“Well, it looks like your friend’s scooter has a dent.” He pointed at the front wheel guard, where there was indeed a small dent. “It probably happened when you hit the curb.”
“Yeah, I guess.” The heat in my cheeks intensified.
“Well, I’m glad you’re okay. I should probably get going.”
“Oh.” I was crestfallen. He couldn’t leave!
Weren’t brave knights meant to whisk their women off their feet, take them away to some castle, and marry them?
Okay, maybe a castle and marriage was taking things a little too far here—this was the twenty-first century—but I wanted more time with this guy.
“Drive safely. And watch out for those curbs.” He flashed me a grin and turned to leave.
“Hey, wait!” He turned back to look at me. “Can’t I at least buy you a coffee to say thanks?”
“Um, I wish I could but I have a meeting to get to.”
“Oh, okay.” I forced a smile, trying not to show him how disappointed I felt. “Thanks for helping me. It was great to meet you.”
“You too, Kiwi.” I smiled at the nickname. “Try not to drive into any more unsuspecting hedges.” He held my gaze for a beat, two.
“I’ll try,” I replied, breathless once more—only this time, I knew with certainty, it was because of him.
I watched him walk down the street, away from me, until he was lost in the crowd. I couldn’t stop smiling to myself as I inspected Sabrina’s bike, wondering how much it would cost to get the wheel guard fixed.
I thought of the handsome Knight in Shining Sneakers.
Biking accidents and damaged hedges aside, moving to San Francisco was quite possibly the best decision I had ever made.
Chapter 4
Sabrina
I adore your apartment. I’m going to venture out with Velma today.
I pulled my long hair up into a messy bun on top of my head—anything to get it off my neck. It was hot! I definitely wasn’t used to this intense humidity. Of course, I wasn’t expecting a vacation in Florida in the middle of June, but that’s not important.
After arriving at Addi’s townhouse in Baldwin Park, a suburb of Orlando, I was both physically and mentally exhausted from the stress of the day. I took a long hot shower and crawled into the bed in Addi’s guest room. I was so tired I considered skipping the shower, but I had worked up quite a sweat trying to fit myself and my wedding dress through that tiny bathroom window back in Dallas. Not to mention how disgusting I felt after hours of sitting in the airport and on that plane.
I lay in bed for a few minutes, waiting for my eyes to get heavy.
I still couldn’t believe I was in Florida. I really hoped this time away would give me the clarity I needed to move forward with my new future, the future I really wanted.
I just didn’t know what that future was, right now.
When I awoke the next morning, I made myself a cup of coffee and sat down on Addi’s cozy white couch with my phone. I had briefly turned it on the day before to add Ethan’s number. I really appreciated him offering it, especially because I didn’t know a soul in Orlando.
I thought of my handsome travel companion. I won’t deny he was very attractive, but the last thing I needed was another man to further complicate my life.
While I had my phone turned on, I sent a text to my parents, letting them know I was okay, before turning it off again. I still hadn’t checked any of my messages—I didn’t want to. I gripped the phone tightly in my hand as I watched the text messages pop up, one by one. There were tons of messages from my mom, Todd’s mom, Bitsy, my maid of honor, Naomi, and of course, Todd.
My heart sank as I read each of Todd’s messages.
I don’t understand.
Are you okay?
Please call me.
I’m worried.
Tears filled my eyes as the guilt from the day before returned. How could I run out on him without a word of explanation? I closed my eyes as I mentally wrote out a response to his texts. Just as I was about to respond, I stopped myself. I owed Todd more than a text. I needed speak to him, but I wasn’t ready yet.
I finally decided to send him a short response before shutting off my phone once more.
I’m okay. I will call you soon.
It was like I was having an out of body experience as I looked around the home of someone I had met only a day ago. Addi’s townhouse was open and bright, with plenty of natural light streaming through the windows. Tall French doors opened up to a screened in patio and palm trees lined the exterior. There was a small pond just beyond the screen.
This was exactly how I imagined a home in Florida would look, although I admit, the thought of alligators crept into my head, causing me to shudder.
I remembered that I didn’t have a stitch of my own clothing with me. It was time to get out and explore, to clear my head—anything to take my mind off the pain I caused the people I cared about the most in this world.
I needed to go shopping—and not because shopping made everything better, although it did. Addi told me I could borrow anything I needed until I was able to purchase some clothes. Instead, I washed the Coke-splattered T-shirt and shorts she had already lent me and put them back on. I found a pair of flip-flops in her closet and slipped those on as well. They were a bit small on me but they’d do for an hour.
There was no way I was going shopping in my three-inch Jimmy Choo wedding shoes!
I hopped in Addi’s car and tried to remember what it was like to actually sit behind a wheel. Back home, I drove a red Vespa my father gave me. I named it Velma. As I drove along the interstate on my way to The Mall at Millenia, I looked out the car window at the palm trees and the billboards, advertising Orlando’s famous theme parks: Walt Disney World, Universal Studios, Sea World.
One thing was for sure, I wasn’t going to be bored during my stay.
I was especially looked forward to checking out Addi’s flower shop, Blooms on Valencia. I couldn’t wait to get my hands on some flowers. Creating floral masterpieces was very therapeutic for me—and I could definitely use some extra therapy right now.
In the meantime, I was ready to indulge in some retail therapy. I purchased several outfits and shoes to last me for the next few weeks. Thankfully, I’d grabbed my makeup bag during my “great escape,” so I didn’t have to worry about that. I asked Addi to ship me a few things, but otherwise, I think I got everything I needed.
While I was out shopping, I received a text from Addi, saying how much she loved San Francisco. I felt a sense of relief hearing from her and that she was doing well, because this whole thing was my idea. Her text definitely put my mind at ease.
Following my successful excursion at the mall, I stopped at the market. Since being away from San Francisco, I had abandoned my usual organ
ic California meal plan, not to mention the ridiculous amount of alcohol I consumed on the plane. I looked in my grocery cart. It was blatantly obvious I was shopping for emotional comfort, and quite truthfully, I didn’t care.
I was going to do whatever I could to enjoy myself and soak up every second of my time in Orlando—however long that time was going to be.
I needed to do this. I owed it to myself.
* * *
I had a very restless night’s sleep, but I was up bright and early in the morning. It was my first day at Blooms on Valencia.
I sorted through the new clothes I had bought the day before, in search of something to wear. Considering it was already over eighty degrees at eight o’clock in the morning, I decided on a floral print maxi dress and sandals. I pulled my hair up into a high ponytail, because if yesterday was anything to go by, I knew I would be sweating as soon as I walked out the front door.
I turned on my phone for the first time since the day before. Thankfully, the heartbreaking texts from Todd and the angry texts from my family had ended, at least for now. They must have been satisfied with my texts, letting them know I would be in touch soon.
I wasn’t looking forward to those phone calls at all.
I pulled up in front of Blooms on Valencia. As I looked out the window, I was immediately in awe. The exterior of the shop was adorable. It reminded me of something you’d find on a boardwalk next to the ocean.
I fell in love the second I walked inside. The shop walls were painted a pale blue, and there were a few white Adirondack patio chairs in the lobby area. On the walls were canvas prints of some of the most gorgeous floral arrangements I had ever seen. Addi was obviously very talented.
Suddenly, the beeping of the security alarm reminded me that I needed to turn it off. I rushed to the wall unit and entered the pass code. Except it didn’t work. With increasing panic, I reentered the code—nothing. Before I knew it, the alarm siren was blaring.
I continued to enter Addi’s code into the keypad, but it still wasn’t working. I dug around in my bag in search of my phone, waited impatiently for it to power up, and fired off several frantic messages and texts to Addi, asking for the code.
With no immediate response, there was nothing else I could do except stand in the middle of the shop and cover my ears, the beeping now a loud and intrusive siren, while I waited for a response from her. A few minutes later, a police car pulled up. The security company must have automatically alerted the authorities. Two officers got out and entered the shop.
In a panic, I tried calling Addi once again, and thankfully, she finally answered. I felt horrible for waking her up so early. It was three hours earlier in California. She gave me the correct code, which I quickly entered into the keypad. The siren finally ceased.
I stood in a daze, wondering if I had noise-induced permanent hearing damage.
“I promise I wasn’t trying to break in,” I insisted, smiling at the officers. “I’m helping a friend out, and I wrote down the wrong security code.”
The shorter of the two officers took a look around the shop as I continued to ramble on about Addi and our arrangement to the taller officer.
“This was kind of a spur-of-the-moment thing. The owner just gave me the correct code.”
“When will the owner be here?” the taller officer asked.
I hesitated. “I’m not exactly sure, a few weeks maybe?”
Ugh. I was so embarrassed. How could I not have the correct security code? That should have been the most important bit of information to have. I hadn’t even been here for fifteen minutes and the cops had already showed up.
This wasn’t how I wanted my day to start off.
“I’m so sorry,” I continued, rubbing my forehead. “This is my first day here, and I’m still trying to figure everything out.”
“Excuse me. What’s going on here?” a voice asked.
The officers and I turned toward the door. The voice belonged to a girl, probably in her early twenties, standing in the doorway. Her big brown eyes widened as she looked back and forth between the two officers and myself.
“I’m sorry, we aren’t open yet,” I said.
My incompetence wasn’t good for business. The shop was supposed to be open already.
The young woman furrowed her brow. “Wait! Are you Sabrina?”
Huh? Who was this girl, and how did she know my name?
“Yes, I am,” I replied uncertainly.
“I’m Isabella, I work with Addi. She called me yesterday and told me all about your situation.” She emphasized the last word.
Wow, I really was out of it! I had completely forgotten about Isabella. Addi had told me she would get in contact with her.
“Isabella, yes,” I gushed, thankful she wasn’t a customer. “I’m so sorry about this. I somehow had the wrong code to disarm the security system. I promise, I’m not usually this frazzled.”
Isabella put her Kate Spade bag and coffee cup on the counter. “I’m sure, especially after everything you’ve been through.”
I cringed.
“It’s fine, officers, I can vouch for her,” she said as she reached into her bag and pulled out her wallet. “Here is my identification. Addison Bloom is the owner; I can give you her number, if you need it.”
I breathed a sigh of relief, despite the fact that I could already feel a headache coming on from all the noise. I hoped this wasn’t foreshadowing what was to come.
The officers left a few minutes later, leaving Isabella and me alone.
“Thank you so much,” I said gratefully. “That was really embarrassing.”
Isabella shrugged. “It’s cool. So, Addi told me you own a flower shop. In San Francisco, right?”
Now this was a topic I was happy to discuss. I was very proud of my business.
“I do, it’s called The Flower Girl.”
Isabella giggled. “Cute name. It’s such a crazy coincidence that you and Addison both own flower shops. You two just randomly met at the airport?”
I shifted from one foot to another. I really didn’t want to talk about the airport or why I was there, but I knew it was going to happen. I had been purposely avoiding the internet like the plague. People were snapping pictures and taking video of me around every corner at that airport.
I always wanted my fifteen minutes of fame—it’s a shame it would come because I was a runaway bride.
“Yes, in Dallas,” I replied. I wasn’t sure if Isabella knew the circumstances in which Addi and I had met, so I decided to give her the short and sweet version. “Addi was so awesome to me when I really needed help. That’s why I’m here and she’s in San Francisco.”
Isabella bit her lower lip. “Okay, Sabrina, I have to be honest with you. I really admire what you did. I can’t imagine it was an easy decision to walk out on your wedding day.”
And there it was. I guess Addi felt she had to tell her. How else would she explain why a perfect stranger was now running her shop? Unfortunately, Addi would be facing the same questions at The Flower Girl in San Francisco, only she would have my family to deal with, in addition to Leonardo, who worked part-time for me. His gossip had been known to spread like wildfire, and he was famous for it. She’d have to manage him carefully.
“Thank you,” I said as I turned toward the front window.
“This shop really is adorable, and I appreciate you helping me get familiar with everything.”
“No problem,” she said.
Thankfully, changing the subject helped to steer Isabella away from how and why I was here in Orlando. Isabella showed me how to access online customer orders, and then she gave me a rundown of Blooms’s regular clients.
“Mrs. Watson will probably be in today or maybe tomorrow to place her weekly order,” she said as she scrolled through the computer screen. “She absolutely refuses to use the online ordering system because she thinks computers are the devil.” She made air quotes with her fingers.
I giggled. “You mean li
ke the mom in that Adam Sandler movie?”
She rolled her eyes. “Yep. Did Addi tell you about Mrs. Watson?”
Mrs. Watson, Mrs. Watson . . . I remembered hearing the name.
“She did, but I really couldn’t tell you what she said about her.”
I tried to remember everything Addi had told me, but considering I was still reeling from my great wedding escape, I would be lucky to remember my own name right now.
“Mrs. Watson is Blooms’s best customer, and she knows everyone in this city,” Isabella said, a very serious tone to her voice. “She belongs to several social clubs, and she runs a singles’ group at her church. She’s very particular in the way she likes her orders.”
I nodded. “She sounds like someone my mother would be friends with, so I know exactly how to handle someone like her.”
I thought of my mother. She was very well connected and respected in the Bay area. Many of her friends did business with The Flower Girl, which of course was a huge benefit to me. Most of them were extremely high maintenance, so dealing with Mrs. Watson should be a piece of cake.
Isabella sat down on one of the stools and sipped her coffee. I could tell by her sudden silence that she wanted to ask me another question, and of course I knew exactly what she wanted to know.
“So, any idea how long Addi will be gone?”
I wasn’t sure how to respond. Obviously, for Addi to return to Orlando, I would have to go back to San Francisco.
I wasn’t ready to think about that just yet.
“I’m not sure,” I said as I pulled up another stool and sat down. “A few weeks most likely.”
“And what about you? Will you be staying in Orlando?”
I don’t know why I was trying to be so vague with her. I just needed to come clean.
Suddenly, the front door swung open and both Isabella and I jumped off our stools. A woman, probably in her late fifties, stood in the entranceway, fanning herself with one of those Chinese paper fans. She was almost as tall as me, and she was wearing a leopard print dress. Her short platinum blonde hair was styled and teased, creating a circle around her face.
One Way Ticket Page 5
