I clutched onto the vertical bar to steady myself. “Oh, I was just going to check the route. I’m not one hundred percent sure.”
“Well, this line finishes down by the Hyde Street Pier.”
“Is that anywhere near Marina?”
“Yeah, about seven or eight blocks away. You going to Marina?”
“I am,” I replied, pleased with myself for getting on a cable car that would take me back to Sabrina’s apartment. “How about you?”
“Oh, I’m heading home for the day. Thought I’d go the scenic route for a change.”
“What do you do?”
He told me about how he worked for a large social media company based in the city and how he’d moved to San Francisco from Minneapolis a few years ago. By the time we reached the end of the line, I had forgotten all about being a tourist, enjoying chatting to a flirty guy in the California sun.
Once we’d disembarked, he handed me a card. “I’d love to take you out sometime. Can I have your number?”
I hesitated. Todd was a no fly zone, so what was stopping me?
“But only if you want to,” Asher replied with a chuckle.
“Sure.” I gave him my number.
His eyes danced as he smiled at me. “It was really great meeting you, Addison.”
I could feel that blush heating up my cheeks once more. Sure, Asher didn’t give me the tingles like Todd did, but he wasn’t Sabrina’s ex-fiancé either, so things were already off to an excellent start.
I walked the eight blocks back to Sabrina’s apartment. I knew I needed to forget about Todd, but was going out with Asher the way to do it?
I just didn’t know.
I rounded the corner to Sabrina’s street and spotted a large, black, very flashy looking car parked out front. Among the Priuses and other environmentally sound cars, it certainly stood out.
Thinking nothing more of it, I entered Sabrina’s building and took the stairs to her apartment, slotting the key into the door. As I pushed it open, I was almost overpowered by the distinct aroma of Chanel No. 5.
That’s funny, I don’t wear that scent.
“Sabrina?” a sharp, anxious voice called out from the living room.
A second later, a woman appeared in the hallway.
Shocked, I took a step back. Finding the door behind me, I felt for the handle, preparing to make a hasty retreat. Only, the woman didn’t look like a burglar or would-be attacker. In her black and white A-line dress and chunky green necklace, she looked more like the society ladies I had as customers at Blooms.
“You’re not Sabrina,” she replied with a scowl, stating the rather too obvious.
“No, I’m not . . . who are you?” I demanded, jutting my chin out.
Unless she was part of a posse of society ladies hidden down the hall, I liked my chances against her.
“Excuse me? Who are you?” she demanded, glaring at me.
“You’re the one who’s broken in and entered my apartment. Either you tell me who you are or I’m calling the police.” I searched in my purse for my phone, found it, and brandished it at her. “See?”
“Oh, don’t be ridiculous,” she scoffed, her perfectly styled bob cut moving as she shook her head. “I’m Sabrina’s mother, Priscilla Monroe.”
“Her mother?”
My eyes swept over her. I took in her long limbs, her elegant physique, her attractive features. There was no denying it: she bore more than a passing resemblance to the famous YouTube runaway bride.
She put her hands on her slim hips. “And you still haven’t told me who you are and what you’re doing in Sabrina’s apartment.” She glared at me, and the expression “if looks could kill” ran through my mind.
I pushed the door closed behind me and took a couple of tentative steps forward. “My name is Addison Bloom. I’m a friend of Sabrina’s.”
She crossed her arms. “I’ve never met you.”
“I’m from . . . err, out of town. She’s asked me to run her business for a while.”
“You’re running The Flower Girl?” Her eyebrows shot up behind her bangs as she looked me up and down. There was more than a hint of disapproval on her face.
Self-conscious, I pulled at my sweater. She was right; I hardly looked like I ran an elegant city florist shop.
“I don’t usually dress . . . Look, you’re clearly upset and worried about your daughter.”
She pursed her ruby red lips in response.
“Please believe me when I say she’s doing fine.”
She pierced me with her eyes once more. “Where is she?”
I swallowed. Wow, this woman was intimidating! I pitied poor Sabrina, not for the first time today.
“I . . . I can’t tell you that.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
I scrunched up my face. “Both?”
“This is ridiculous! Do you know who I am?” She turned on her heel, walking back down the hall into the living room.
That was clearly a rhetorical question, then.
Slowly, I placed my purse on the hallway cabinet by the door and followed her, feeling a little like a clueless victim in a horror movie. I reached the doorway and peered in. Sabrina’s mother was standing with her arms crossed, her back to me, staring out the window.
“I’m sorry I can’t tell you, Mrs. Monroe. I’ve made a promise to Sabrina.”
“Ha! Sabrina has no problems breaking her promises, did you know that?” She turned to look at me.
I swallowed. “You mean about getting married?”
“Of course, I mean about getting married!” She began to pace the room, her expensive heels clicking on the hardwood floors. “Todd, of course, is overwhelmed with grief, not to mention humiliated. And Bitsy?” She put her hand over her heart. “Bitsy is utterly devastated.”
I had no clue who Bitsy was, and I chose not to mention my two meetings with Todd to the pacing Mrs. Monroe.
Not that he’d looked exactly overwhelmed with grief. Sad around the edges, yes. Overwhelmed? No.
“I’m . . . sorry to hear that.”
“This wedding was so important! That’s what I can’t seem to get through to Sabrina. The joining of the Monroes with the Blakelys? Well, it would have been a very good thing for all of us. And now she’s run off to God knows where.”
“I assure you, Mrs. Monroe, she’s quite safe.”
She narrowed her eyes at me. “Where is your accent from?”
“New Zealand.”
She placed her fingertips on her forehead. “New Zealand? Please tell me Sabrina hasn’t gone to New Zealand!”
I smiled at her, trying my best to quell my nerves. Being in a small room with an irate Mrs. Monroe was no easy thing.
“I’m sorry, as I said, I can’t . . .”
“Yes, yes. I know.” She waved her hand in the air. “You can’t tell me. Well, Maddison, I will find her and I will bring her home. With or without you.”
“It’s Addison,” I said quietly.
Were all the scary society ladies of San Francisco going to get my name wrong?
She wasn’t listening. I watched, openmouthed, as she collected up her Chanel monogrammed black and gold purse from the sofa and stomped down the hall and out the door, slamming it behind herself, adding an exclamation point to her statement.
Not that it needed one.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, letting it out in a long whistle.
Well, that went swimmingly.
I kicked off my sneakers and padded across the floor to Sabrina’s bedroom. After that little altercation on top of the day I’d had, I needed a lie down.
Either that or drink a large glass of neat whiskey.
Probably best to go with the lie down.
I reached Sabrina’s room and flopped on her bed, staring at the ceiling. This was so much harder than I had thought it would be! First Naomi, then Todd, and now Mrs. Monroe, a woman who could give The Devil Wears Prada’s Miranda Priestly a run for her money.
I got up to grab a glass of water. That’s when I noticed the few photos around the apartment with Todd in them. How could I have missed these? There was one of the two of them wearing sunglasses. The photo looked like it had been taken in some exotic tropical paradise. Then on the bookshelves there were a few more. I suppose I was so caught up in being in San Francisco I didn’t pay close attention.
Nor did I recognize that the gorgeous man in these pictures just happened to be my knight.
Oh, Sabrina. If you don’t come back and marry Todd Blakely soon, I don’t know what I’ll do.
Chapter 10
Sabrina
Thank you for the warning about Mrs. Thornhill, you were right about her. She said she couldn’t remember my name, so now she’s calling me Sabrina! Are all your clients this high maintenance?
I rolled my eyes as I read Addi’s message. That sounded exactly like something Mrs. Thornhill would do. She was a friend of my mother’s, although I’d use the term “friend” loosely.
The more I thought about it, Sabrina’s customer, Mrs. Watson, reminded me a little of Mrs. Thornhill. She wasn’t as stuck-up or grumpy as Mrs. Thornhill, but they definitely had some similarities.
It had taken some time for Mrs. Thornhill to warm up to me, but she finally had. Well, as much as she could warm up to a person.
I really believed she had vinegar running through her veins.
It had been twenty-four hours since Todd and I’d had our conversation, and I was still feeling emotional. I knew with all my heart that we had done the right thing, but ending a long-term relationship was very difficult.
I barely got any sleep last night. I couldn’t stop thinking about everything I had to do: get my stuff from Todd’s place, apologize to wedding guests, and send back gifts.
I considered asking Addi to help, but I didn’t want to add that burden on her shoulders. Todd and I didn’t discuss how to handle the wedding gift situation, but Naomi had told me he took all the gifts to his place. I planned on contacting him in a few days, once the dust settled. I had no idea what proper etiquette was in this situation, so I did what every self-respecting twenty-first century girl did: I googled it.
As I suspected, we had to return all engagement, shower, and wedding gifts. Most of the items were already at Todd’s place as I was supposed to move in with him after we were married.
I let out a heavy sigh. Why did this all have to be so hard?
That was another thing. In the days leading up to the wedding, I wasn’t motivated to do anything to prepare to move. Looking back now, it was obvious I was stalling. If only I had spoken up sooner, I could have saved myself a lot of stress now.
I was so distracted before the wedding I didn’t pack a single box—that should have been a major red flag.
I thought about that pile of gifts. I was sure my mother would expect me to handwrite letters on the personalized stationery she gave me every year for Christmas, apologizing to each and every guest. I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d used it. Oh, well. I would do whatever needed to be done to thank everyone who had supported our would-be marriage.
There was just so much to think about.
A part of me felt I should go home to San Francisco as soon as possible to clean up the mess I’d left in the wake of my escape. At the same time, I wasn’t ready to leave Orlando. I had the new project to work on for Blooms, and I still had to visit all the world famous theme parks.
Plus, hiding out here was good for me. I had begun to feel more like me than I had in a long, long time.
And then there was Ethan. As much as I didn’t want to admit it, I was looking forward to having coffee with him. Despite the fact I was now officially a single woman, I was still riddled with guilt for wanting to see him. There was no way Todd would get involved with someone else so soon after we’d ended our relationship.
The fact that I wanted to see Ethan made me feel like I was the most horrible person on the planet.
I kept telling myself it was just coffee with a new friend who happened to be a really, really hot guy.
But I knew there was more to it than that. I mean, who could forget those gorgeous blue eyes?
To be perfectly honest, I was still surprised he wanted to see me after the state I was in during our first meeting. The poor guy had to listen for hours as I unloaded the details of my very complicated and messy life. Not that he had much of a choice on a completely booked flight.
I suppose he could have put a on a pair of headphones if he didn’t want to listen to my problems.
But he hadn’t.
I had every intention of waiting for Ethan to contact me when he returned from his trip. Sure, I had his phone number, but there was no way I was going to initiate contact.
In the back of my mind, I knew I still had to break the news to my family that Todd and I were over. I was confident that conversation was going to be a very traumatic experience for my family and for myself, but for very different reasons.
I decided to venture out on my own after leaving Blooms for the evening. Besides floral design, there was another method of therapy that helped me relax: shopping.
My first shopping trip in this city was mostly for the basic necessities, considering I didn’t even have a toothbrush with me when I arrived. I had noticed a few good stores in that large shopping plaza where Fuchsia Flowers and Gifts was located. At first I didn’t have any plans to revisit that pink shop, but I was interested to see if they were busy.
They were the competition, after all.
When I arrived there were three customers browsing around, looking at the tacky trinkets. Aubrey, the super bubbly owner, was working on a floral arrangement, and my interest was piqued. I was intently watching her add greenery to the gorgeous bouquet when, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed someone walk up beside me.
“Hello. Can I help you find something?”
I turned to see the other owner, Ethan’s sister-in-law, Jackie, standing next to me. She was so petite; I towered over her in my flat sandals.
She gave me a questioning look. I was sure she recognized me. Regardless, I had to pretend to be shopping.
“Hello. Yes, I’m looking for a little something for my best friend back home.” I paused. “You’re Jackie, right?”
She nodded. “Yes, I am. We’ve met before?”
I gave her my friendliest smile. “Yes, at your grand opening event. Ethan introduced us. He and I met on the plane from Dallas.”
I could almost see the light bulb go off in her head. “That’s right. I remember now.”
We both fell silent. I felt like I needed to say something, and it was the perfect opportunity to find out more information about the shop.
“How’s it going here? I mean with business? It looked like you had a great turnout at your opening.”
My eye was caught by a section of bridal party items. I was immediately reminded of the many gifts I had received for my wedding. Naomi had given me the exact same tote bag that had “Bride” on it. I reached out and touched it.
“Is your best friend getting married?” Jackie asked.
I stared blankly at her. “What? Oh, no,” I replied, fumbling over my words. “I just thought this tote bag was cute . . . for a bride.”
Seriously? I sounded so stupid!
“Isn’t it? Our bridal collection is very popular.”
The last thing I wanted to do was talk about weddings.
“So, where are you from again? Dallas, right?” Jackie asked.
“No, I’m from San Francisco. I was in Dallas to . . . um . . . visit my grandparents.”
“That’s nice. Do you live in Orlando now?”
I shook my head. “No, just visiting.”
This conversation was getting more and more difficult. I didn’t want to tell her why I was in Dallas, and I didn’t want to tell her why I
was in Orlando. To make matters even worse, I didn’t want to tell her where I was working and that I was just visiting her shop to spy on her business!
It was probably best I leave, and fast.
She chewed on her lip. “Please don’t take this the wrong way . . .”
Oh, crap. It was never good when someone said those words.
“Okay,” I replied, folding my arms. I didn’t know this woman, but I certainly wasn’t going to let her bully me.
“Ethan is a really good guy. Too good. Drew and I don’t want him to get hurt again.”
Whoa! Hold on. What was she saying?
“Excuse me, but I think you have the wrong idea,” I replied, as I tried not to raise my voice. “Ethan seems like a nice guy, but I just got out of a relationship recently.”
Recently? Try last weekend.
“There isn’t anything going on between us, if that’s what you thought.”
“Okay.” She nodded. “I’ve just seen this too many times with him. Women fall for those blue eyes, he gets involved with them, and then they break his heart because he’s so nice.”
I couldn’t disagree on the blue eyes comment.
“And”—she leaned in closer—“I’m still holding out hope that he ends up with Aubrey.”
I narrowed my eyes. Aubrey?
Oh, I finally understood what was happening here. She wanted her brother-in-law and her best friend to get together. That explained her odd behavior when Ethan introduced us at the grand opening.
I glanced over at Aubrey, who was talking to a customer about flowers. She was cute and had a very fun and bubbly personality. I didn’t know if Ethan would like her, because honestly, I barely knew him.
All I knew was he had been incredibly nice to me on the plane, and he wanted to see me again.
I turned back to Jackie. “Well, like I said, Ethan and I aren’t seeing each other. In fact, we just met.”
Jackie nodded confidently. “Please don’t be offended. It’s nothing personal.”
I really didn’t know whether I should be offended or not. I understood her wanting her best friend and her brother-in-law to hook up.
One Way Ticket Page 11
