One Way Ticket

by Melissa Baldwin

  “I . . . um,” he muttered.

  “I hear you. The aloe is too spiky, right? It might send the wrong message to your . . . girlfriend?”

  I knew I was unashamedly leading him to share his relationship status, and my cheeks heated up some more.

  “Oh, I . . . you’re probably right.” He turned away and walked over to the counter where he placed the first two plants I’d handed him.

  I took a step closer to him, still holding the spiky aloe in my hands. “Look. This feels like some sort of cosmic coincidence, you being here when we only met yesterday. Maybe we should start again?”

  His face broke into a smile. “Sounds good.”

  “Great. Welcome to The Flower Girl. What can I help you with today?”

  He let out a breath and ran his fingers through his hair, and I swear my knees almost buckled.

  How could one simple action be so very, very hot?

  He looked straight at me. “I’m actually not sure.”

  He had an air of sadness I hadn’t noticed when we’d met. But then, I was a little more focused on the fact that I had just crashed Sabrina’s Vespa, and almost killed myself to boot, at the time.

  Perhaps it was there before and I hadn’t noticed.

  I smiled at him. “Okay. No problem. Would you like me to help?”

  Even though my rational brain knew it wasn’t possible, a bubble of hope rose inside me. Maybe he was here to see me, after all? Maybe he had found out who I was and where I was working? Although, Sabrina was the only person who had that information right now, and she was unlikely to have shared it with random guys who helped me out of hedges.

  He nodded at me, which I took as a “yes.”

  “All right. Let’s start with whom the flowers are for?”

  “Well, I . . . for my mom?”

  Not sure if he was asking me or telling me—and very happy he hadn’t said “girlfriend” instead—I went with it. “All right. With no fresh flowers today, you can choose from the potted plants I . . . err, suggested before, or maybe one of these lovely paperweights? Does your mum like them?”

  “A paperweight sounds . . . not exactly exciting. So, yeah, a paperweight would be great for my mom.” He let out a laugh.

  “Awesome! Come over here and have a look at them. We have a few to choose from.”

  He followed me over to the paperweights and bent down to look at them, picking one up in his hands for closer inspection. “I’ll take this one.”

  He held it out for me, and I took it, my fingers brushing against his.

  Naturally.

  “Sure! You don’t mess around, do you?”

  “What can I say? I’m a man of action, Kiwi.” He grinned at me, and things began to zing around my body.

  “‘Kiwi.’ I like that.” I stood, gazing at him, smiling like some sort of insane person.

  At that moment, an older woman with an air of Jackie O, wearing an expensive dress with more rows of pearls around her neck than the Queen of England herself, came bursting into the store.

  She took one look at me and demanded, “Who are you?” Her face was like thunder.

  Unless, of course, that was the expression her Botox and fillers had created and she looked like that all the time.

  I tore my eyes from my knight—not that he was mine, exactly, but I liked thinking of him that way—to look at her, plastering on a pleasant smile. “Hi there, I’m Addison. Welcome to The—”

  She cut me off before I had the chance to finish my sentence. “Where is Sabrina?”

  I blinked at her. “Ah, she’s . . . away.”

  “Away?” grumpy Jackie O questioned, her small, elegant nostrils flaring.

  “Well, she’s supposed to be on her honeymoon, but, well, she’s not. That’s why I’m here. Is there anything I can help you with?”

  Grumpy Jackie O raised her eyebrows at me. “I doubt it. I want Sabrina. She knows me. She knows what I need.”

  I glanced at my knight. His head was down as he—probably pretended—to study the paperweight collection in front of him.

  I didn’t blame him in the least. This woman was scary with a capital S.

  I shifted my weight. “I’m really sorry. Sabrina has left me in charge. I am a qualified floral designer with years of experience. I’m quite certain I can help you.”

  She harrumphed. “What is your name?”

  “Addison, Addison Bloom.”

  “Great name for a florist,” my knight muttered by my side.

  I shot him a quick smile before returning my attention to the volcanic woman who had interrupted our time together.

  She waved her hand in the air, shaking her head. “I can’t remember that. I’ll just call you Sabrina.”

  I blinked at her. Really? She was going to call me Sabrina?

  “Okaaay,” I replied uncertainly. “May I ask your name, ma’am?” I hoped the Southern manners I’d acquired in Florida could help soften this woman.

  “I’m Violet Thornhill,” she replied with a scowl, as though I should have known exactly who she was.

  The penny dropped. Mrs. Thornhill! Sabrina had told me about her. I needed to do some major sucking up. If my memory served me correctly, Mrs. Thornhill was very influential, and one of Sabrina’s biggest customers.

  “Mrs. Thornhill, how lovely it is to meet you,” I simpered, walking over to her and taking her hand in mine. “Sabrina has told me all about you. It’s a pleasure to get to meet you in the flesh.”

  Yeah, okay, I knew I was shoveling it on pretty darn thick. But my mere existence seemed to anger this woman. I had to do something!

  She harrumphed again. Pulling her bony hand from mine, she said, “I’m glad she told you about me. Now, I need you to confirm my standing order. And my daughter’s wedding isn’t too far away now. I sincerely hope Sabrina has made you abreast of it?”

  “Of course, yes.” I glanced at my knight, who had now moved on to the group of ludicrously expensive ornaments in front of one of the mirrors.

  Luckily, I had familiarized myself with Sabrina’s system earlier in the day and found Mrs. Thornhill’s order and the lengthy information on her daughter’s wedding. I read out the details to her and she nodded her assent, instructing me to add some more bunches of flowers for a luncheon she was hosting on Thursday.

  I wrote down the details and saw her out of the store.

  “It really was so lovely to meet you, Mrs. Thornhill,” I said, putting it on in spades once more.

  “I’ll be in touch, Sabrina.”

  Wow, she really was going to call me that.

  “Great!”

  She turned and walked off, her heels clicking on the stone floor.

  I looked back to my knight. “Sorry about that.”

  “No problem. That woman sure is a handful.”

  I chuckled. “I’m sure we’ll be fine.”

  “So, are you going to be working here for a while?”

  “Yes. Probably. Maybe. Actually, I don’t know.”

  “You clearly have a plan,” he responded, a cheeky grin on his face.

  That ever-present heat in my cheeks when I was around this guy intensified to industrial incinerator level. “I’m not sure how long I’ll be here.”

  “How did you meet Sabrina?”

  I opened my mouth to respond when a loud voice behind me exclaimed, “There you are! I had a feeling you might be here.”

  I turned to see Naomi, standing in the shop entranceway, her delicate hands on her slim hips. “I thought we were meeting at the restaurant?”

  I furrowed my brow. What was she talking about? We hadn’t made any plans to go to a restaurant together. Had she lost her mind?

  I opened my mouth to respond.

  “Sorry, I thought I’d come here first, just to check if . . .”

  My head snapped in my knight’s direction. He knew Naomi? They were having lunch together? And what did he want to check, exactly? I shook my head, totally confused.

  “I und
erstand,” Naomi replied, her voice softened. “I see you’ve met Addi. She’s taking over the shop for a while.”

  My eyes darted between the two of them.

  “Yes, we’ve met,” he said, smiling at me.

  Our eyes locked. Things zinged around my body once more.

  Who was this guy? And how did he know Naomi?

  And then I got my answer, the one answer I did not want.

  “Great! Okay, I’ll text you about Friday, Addi.” She turned back to my knight. “Let’s go, Todd.”

  Todd? Todd?!

  I gawped at him, my jaw dropping open. My knight, the hot guy who saved me from the hedge, who made things zing around inside me for the first time in forever, was Sabrina’s fiancé?

  I needed to sit down.

  My knight—no, scratch that: Sabrina’s Todd—shot me a look I couldn’t read before he took a few steps across the store to Naomi. At the door, he turned and looked back at me. “It was nice to meet you when you weren’t face down in a hedge, Addison Bloom.”

  I tried to find words. Honestly, I did.

  But all I could manage was a nod as I watched him turn and leave, my heart sinking, slowly but surely, right down into my belly.

  Chapter 8

  Sabrina

  Don’t worry about Mrs. Watson. Just fulfill her requests and she will be fine. Remember, no computers. She is an interesting character.

  “Interesting” was one way to describe Mrs. Watson. I certainly wasn’t going to tell Addi I thought she was a bold-faced liar and traitor.

  Isabella and I agreed not to say anything to her about Mrs. Watson’s threat or seeing her at Fuchsia Flowers and Gifts’ grand opening—at least not yet. Addi had enough to deal with running The Flower Girl for me, and I didn’t want her to worry. Plus, I knew I could handle this.

  And it was possible that Mrs. Watson was there for the free wine and sugar, just like most of the other guests.

  I felt relieved when Mrs. Watson submitted her weekly centerpiece order to Blooms. She must not have been completely blown away by the stuffed animals, candy jars, or monogrammed trinkets the gift shop was pushing. Although I had to admit, the swag bag giveaway was a clever idea.

  I was just hoping that Fuchsia Flowers and Gifts magnets weren’t adorning every refrigerator in Orlando now.

  It was nice to be able to focus on work today. I felt pretty shaken up after leaving the grand opening event, mostly because of unexpectedly seeing Ethan. I still couldn’t get over us being in the same place at the same time.

  He had said it was fate, just like I did when I met Addi at the airport. Could it be? Or was it just some random coincidence?

  Plus, every time I closed my eyes I pictured Ethan’s smile, his gorgeous hair, and his deep blue eyes. I tried everything I could to force the image out of my head, believe me.

  The guilt was almost unbearable!

  I knew more than ever I had to get closure with Todd.

  Isabella ran out to get us lunch at a café called Panera Bread. She said they had some of the yummiest soups, salads, and sandwiches around.

  I was still trying to adjust to being in Orlando and how flat it was. I hadn’t seen one hill since I’d been here. After living in hilly San Francisco all my life, it was quite a shock. The best news was that I was finally going to visit Disney World on Sunday. The kid inside me was doing cartwheels! Isabella had a special pass for Florida residents, so she offered to go with me.

  It certainly had been great having her around.

  I heard the front door to the flower shop open, pulling me out of my Disney excitement. I turned to see two girls walking into the shop. They were probably a few years younger than me. One of them had pale lavender-colored hair.

  I smiled to myself. I never got into that trend. Of course, it would look ridiculous on me. This girl could definitely pull it off, though. The other had longer, dirty blonde hair.

  “Hey there, welcome to Blooms on Valencia,” I said, hopping off the stool I was sitting on.

  “Hi,” both girls replied in unison.

  “What brings you in today?” I asked. For a second, I thought about using Aubrey from Fuchsia Gifts’ “slice of heaven” remark, but they would probably be as annoyed by that as I was.

  “Our sorority sister got engaged, and we’re throwing her a bridal shower,” the blonde girl said.

  I noticed they both were wearing choker necklaces, skinny jeans, and flannel shirts tied around their waist. Maybe their sorority had some kind of dress code?

  “Our friend’s mother said we could do whatever we want, no matter what the cost. We’ve come up with a few cool ideas, but we figured it would be good to get a professional opinion,” the lavender-headed girl said.

  Yes! This was the best part of my job. Being creative really was therapy for me.

  “Of course, I can add to those ideas,” I replied, trying to tone down my excitement. This was going to be a nice change from Mrs. Watson and her very “specific” requests. “My name is Sabrina, can I get you something to drink?”

  “I’m Danielle, and this is Kiki.”

  Kiki had the lavender hair. It was the perfect name to match the hair.

  “It’s great to meet you both,” I replied. “Now tell me about your friend. Does she have a color scheme for her wedding? Any specific flowers you want to use?”

  The girls gave each other an exasperated look. I was obviously missing something here.

  Sensing this wasn’t about flowers, I asked, “Is everything okay?”

  The girls shared a look. As a florist, I’ve learned over the years it’s often about more than just flowers.

  Danielle let out a puff of air. “Planning a shower is fun, but . . . well, we’re a little worried about our friend, Christina. It seems like she’s rushing into this, and we’re afraid she’s going to regret getting married so quickly.”

  “We’re kind of hoping she will break off her engagement,” Kiki added. “At least before she’s walking down the aisle. Could you imagine her getting to the altar and then realizing she rushed into it?”

  Danielle giggled. “Yeah, she could be like that woman who was running around the airport in her wedding gown. Did you see that video online?”

  Crap! I certainly wasn’t going to tell them I was the star of that video.

  “No, I don’t think I’ve seen it,” I replied smoothly.

  Which was the truth. I had been avoiding that video on purpose. I didn’t need any more of a reminder of that day.

  It definitely wasn’t my finest moment.

  “Oh, you have to watch it. I’ll pull it up.” Danielle took her phone out of her handbag.

  “No, that’s okay,” I said, raising my voice. “I’m sure I’ll see it later. Let’s just focus on the reason you ladies came in today.”

  Thankfully, neither Danielle nor Kiki noticed my knee-jerk reaction. I distracted them by showing them some photos of a bridal shower online I did a few months before. They both liked the tulips, so they selected some in various shades of pink, Christina’s favorite color.

  Not like I needed any more pink in my life at the moment.

  We made some good progress before Isabella returned with our lunch, although I was just happy I was able to keep them from pulling up the infamous “runaway bride” video. I wondered how long it was going to take for someone to figure out that I was that bride and hiding out in Orlando?

  I hoped never.

  “You okay?” Isabella asked, after our new customers had left.

  Why did it always seem like she was asking me that? I never used to be like this. I used to be so happy, so sure of myself.

  Or, at least, I thought I was happy. But I wasn’t.

  “Yes, I was just thinking about what they were saying about their friend, Christina, rushing into her wedding.”

  She shrugged. “Well, maybe Christina doesn’t feel that way? Just because her friends believe she’s rushing into marriage doesn’t mean she does.”

 
; Isabella had made a very good point. I was in the exact opposite position. My friends and family had all wanted me to get married.

  I was the one who didn’t.

  I shook my head. “Oh, well. It’s not our business. We’re just here to create exquisite floral creations for their event.”

  Isabella smiled. “That’s the spirit. And that’s exactly what we’re going to do.”

  * * *

  As soon as I arrived home—Addi’s home—I stretched out on the cozy white couch and closed my eyes. I had fallen in love with this couch. It was actually where I spent most of my time in her apartment. I thought about my day. It had been a great day at Blooms, and I was excited for the opportunity to work on a new project.

  I could hear my phone buzzing from the inside of my bag, where I’d left it on the kitchen counter. I was conflicted about getting off the couch to check it. For one, it could be my mother again, even though she’d gone completely silent since our argument the other day.

  Then again, it could also be Todd. I think I would rather talk to my mother—at least I knew what to expect from her.

  I dragged my body away from the comfort of the couch and reached into my bag. As soon as I read the text my heart began to race.

  Hey. It’s Ethan. Let me know when you’re free for coffee. Flying to Seattle in a few minutes, will be back in a couple of days. The flight won’t be the same without you.

  That now familiar tingle shot through my body as I reread his text over and over again. Why was this happening to me? And, more to the point, why was I letting it happen?

  I typed a response to Ethan.

  Have a safe flight. Hopefully you aren’t stuck next to some crazy woman on the plane.

  I chewed on my fingernail while I waited for his response.

  Sometimes that’s not a bad thing. Look forward to seeing you soon.

  I put the phone down and covered my eyes with my hands.

  I let out a heavy sigh. Although Ethan was light relief from my life right now, I knew I had to call Todd before I let this go any further.

  It was now or never. I had to put all the distractions and fear out of my mind. I glanced at the time—it was four o’clock in San Francisco. I picked up my phone and scrolled through my contacts until I stopped at Todd’s number. I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths. My stomach was in knots, and I felt like I was about to throw up.