One Way Ticket

by Melissa Baldwin

  I bit my lip. I hoped I wasn’t coming on too strong, but I knew I had to hustle. Landing a wedding would be huge for business. I owed this to Addi, especially after everything she had done for me.

  “I suppose it would be okay to meet with you as well. We should keep our options open.”

  Yes! I punched the air with excitement.

  In a calmer voice, I responded, “Excellent. How about Wednesday? I know Christina’s friends are handling the shower, but I will be able to show you the amazing arrangements we’re creating.”

  I wanted to meet with her before she met with Jackie. I was worried she wouldn’t give us a shot if she went to Fuchsia Flowers first. All that pink, free wine, and chocolate could persuade anyone.

  “Wednesday is fine. We will see you then.”

  Exhilarated, I grabbed a sketchpad as the ideas began to flow. It helped that I already knew Christina’s color scheme, and I needed to have some ideas ready to show Rhonda. I was going to do everything in my power to knock their socks off.

  Plus, there was no better distraction from having to make a decision about what my future held.

  I knew I had to do it soon enough, but for now I had work to do.

  Chapter 17

  Addison

  Working on landing a huge wedding for Blooms. Keep your fingers crossed!

  Conflicting. That’s the theme for today. Conflicting, confusing, and oh-so wonderful.

  In a nutshell: my non-date with Todd.

  He arrived at The Flower Girl just as I was closing up for the day. Locking the door, I turned and smiled at him, the butterflies in my belly batting their wings.

  Why did this guy have to be so damn dreamy? He simply wasn’t playing fair.

  “Are you ready, Kiwi?” he asked, returning my smile.

  “Yes!” I replied, a little too loudly. I cleared my throat, thankful Leonardo wasn’t anywhere near to raise that annoying, teasing eyebrow of his at me. “Where are we going to on our friends’ outing?”

  I put extra emphasis on the word “friends” because that’s what we were: nothing more, nothing less.

  The fact that I’d worn a figure-enhancing sleeveless top and a pair of skinny jeans that made my legs look twice as long as they really were was just a mere coincidence.

  He chuckled. “Well, friend, remember I suggested you get out on the water?” I nodded. “Well, we’re going to catch a ferry.” He glanced at his watch. “In fact, we need to board it now, so let’s get going.”

  “Okay,” I confirmed with a nod.

  A short walk across the pier later, Todd pulled a couple of tickets out of his jacket pocket, and we boarded a ferry.

  “Let’s head out on deck,” he suggested.

  We climbed the stairs behind a group of others to the top deck, where we stood against the railing, the Ferry Building looming above us as we stood together, waiting to depart.

  “Where are we going? The sign said Tibet, or something.”

  “I can tell you one thing, Kiwi, we’re not going to Tibet,” Todd replied with a chuckle.

  “No, that would be silly,” I confirmed, those darn butterflies constantly batting their wings in my tummy.

  “And a little far to go on a first . . . outing.”

  My eyes darted from the Ferry Building to Todd’s face. Was he about to call this a first date?

  He trained his eyes on something in the middle distance. “We’re going to Tiburon, a little town in Marin County, over on the other side of the bay. I thought we could wander around, grab a bite to eat there, and then head back.”

  I grinned at him. “Perfect.”

  The ferry sounded its horn, and we began to glide out of the dock. We stood together in silence, watching the Ferry Building and its surrounds shrink as more and more distance was put between us and the city of San Francisco.

  The breeze whipped up, and I shivered in my sleeveless top.

  Todd noticed. “Did you bring a jacket like I suggested?”

  I reached into my oversized purse and pulled one out. “Voila!” I slipped it on and zipped it up, thankful for its warmth.

  “Tell me about your home in New Zealand,” Todd asked, leaning on the rail, his hair moving gently in the breeze.

  “Well, I’m from Wellington. It’s the capital city. It looks quite a lot like San Francisco, actually. I was born and raised there.” I reached into my bag for my phone and pulled up a photo of Wellington with its beautiful U-shaped harbor and the wooden houses dotted over the hills, punctuating the green. “Here.”

  Todd took the phone from me and studied the image. “Wow. That’s nice. Why did you leave?”

  I shrugged, letting out a breath. “For love.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah. Not that it worked out, exactly. He kind of did the dirty on me.”

  Todd pulled a face. “The dirty?”

  I laughed. “Yeah, he cheated on me.”

  “He sounds like an idiot.”

  I glanced at Todd and noticed his soft smile. Something in my chest moved.

  “Look,” he said, pointing toward the city. “Check out that view. You can see the Transamerica building there.”

  Faced with a sea of buildings, I asked, “Which one?”

  “The large, triangular one.”

  “Oh, right. That’s amazing!”

  “And over here, you can see the hill where that tower is—”

  “On top of Nob Hill?” I interrupted.

  He grinned. “That’s the one.”

  “I do know some things about the city, you know. Like the name of that little bridge over there, for instance.” I shot him a cheeky smirk as I pointed at the world famous Golden Gate.

  “You clearly don’t need my tourist guide services, then.”

  As the ferry chugged along, we both began to relax more, looking at the sites and enjoying getting to know one another better. I got a little more excited than I should have when we cruised past Alcatraz, and Todd promised he would take me there next time.

  A surge of excitement hit me at the thought of there being a next time.

  Finally, after slipping past Angel Island the State Park, we docked at the small town of Tiburon, where we and the rest of the ferry passengers disembarked.

  We ambled around the town together, sampling some of the local candy and peering in the windows of the boutiques. A good few degrees warmer than the city, we shrugged off our jackets and folded them over our arms, enjoying the warm late-afternoon sun.

  I couldn’t explain why, but it was relaxed and easy, as though I’d known Todd for years, rather than just a short time.

  Eventually, my tummy began to rumble and my feet began to hurt in the strappy wedge sandals I was wearing—because they went so well with my outfit and nothing to do with the fact that they made my legs look amazing, of course.

  I suggested we find somewhere to eat.

  “There’s a great Mexican place here. Do you like tacos?”

  “Who doesn’t like tacos?”

  He grinned. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

  At the restaurant, we chose a table overlooking the water, under the shade of a large, yellow umbrella. The view out over the water was stunning, and if this were a date, it would be incredibly romantic.

  But it wasn’t.

  The waiter asked us for our drinks order.

  “A margarita,” we both responded in unison, laughing as our eyes met.

  “What other possible choice could there be at a Mexican restaurant?” I asked with a shrug.

  “Exactly.”

  We grinned at one another as the waiter disappeared, and I was forced to tear my gaze away from his Liam Hemsworth face—the way the edges of his mouth bore the hint of a smile, the way his eyes reflected the color of the sea . . .

  Stop it!

  I shifted in my seat, searching my brain for a topic of conversation that didn’t make me want to reach across the table, grab him by the collar, and kiss him. Hard.

  I settled
on career. “So, Todd. Tell me what you do for a living.”

  Sabrina had mentioned something about him being a lawyer when we’d met at the airport, but I hadn’t been paying much attention to the details of his life back then.

  “Well, up until last week, I worked for Smithson, Cole, and Blakely. They’re a property law firm in the city. Pretty big here in California.”

  “Impressive. I assume the Blakely is you?”

  He shook his head. “My dad.”

  “But you’re not there anymore?”

  He let out a breath, and his brows knitted together. “I . . . ah . . . well, let’s just say with recent events, I’ve been reevaluating my life.”

  “Ah.” I knew precisely what “recent events” he was referring to, and I shot him a sideways glance.

  The waiter arrived with our drinks and a bowl of corn chips and salsa, interrupting our awkward moment. He asked us to order. We hadn’t even opened our menus, so we set about choosing our meals while the waiter stood nearby.

  Our taco orders placed, the waiter disappeared from sight. I used the interruption to change the subject away from anything related to Sabrina. Although I was dying to know what quitting his job had to do with Sabrina leaving him at the altar, I decided it might be best to let it go.

  I raised my glass. “To friends having adventures in Tibeton.”

  “Tiburon,” Todd corrected me, his eyes dancing.

  “Tiburon.” I shook my head. “It’s a weird name, isn’t it?”

  He chuckled. “I guess, maybe?”

  “Anyway, to adventures.”

  We clinked glasses and both took a sip of our margaritas.

  “Oh, that’s good,” I exclaimed. I took another sip, and then another. The tequila began to warm my belly, and I sat back in my seat, gazing out at the gorgeous sea view.

  After a few moments of amicable silence, Todd placed his elbows on the table and leaned in toward me. “When Sabrina left me, it really made me think about what I was doing with my life.”

  I looked at him in surprise. He wanted to talk about his and Sabrina’s almost-wedding?

  “Okay.” I chewed the inside of my lip.

  “You know, she said something to me about how she thought the whole thing was for other people. I guess it made me think.”

  “The whole thing?”

  “The wedding. Us.”

  I nodded, pressing my lips together. I picked up my glass and took another sip—okay, a huge gulp.

  “It got me thinking.”

  I nodded at him. I bet it did. Things like “women are the devil” and “I’m never going near another woman as long as I live!”

  “You see, my dad is in property law, his dad before him. It was just expected of me.”

  Oh, good. We’d moved on from Sabrina.

  “And now?” I asked.

  “Now, I’m making my own choices.”

  The thought that I could be one of those choices sent tingles down my spine.

  “Good for you.” I raised my glass. “To making your own choices.”

  He raised his with a smile, and we clinked glasses again. As I tipped the glass up, I was surprised it was down to the dregs, the ice clinking against my top lip as I swallowed the last drop.

  “I’ll order you another one.” Before I could stop him, Todd waved the waiter over and ordered two more margaritas—presumably one for each of us, not two more for me.

  “Anyway, so that’s it. I’ve made a big career decision, one I think I should have made a long time ago. And I have Sabrina to thank for it.”

  I smiled at him across the table, glad something positive had come out of this whole experience for him. “So, what are you going to do now?”

  He shook his head. “I have absolutely no clue.”

  His response caught me off guard, and I burst into laughter.

  He laughed along with me. “I guess I’m now officially a bum,” he added with a shrug.

  “A very cute bum,” I said, and instantly regretted it. “No, what I mean is you’re cute as a bum, not you have a cute bum.”

  Did I really just say that?

  He bit back a smile.

  Heat rose in my cheeks. “Even though I’m pretty sure you have one of those, too.”

  Wow, I’m on a roll here.

  He raised his eyebrows at me, his smile creeping across his face.

  “Not that I would know. I mean, I haven’t been checking your butt out or anything like that.”

  Where, exactly, am I going with this?

  I closed my eyes, sucking in air, wishing I was anywhere but here.

  He was now grinning from ear to ear. “I’m glad you cleared that up.”

  “Mmm, yes. I thought it was important I, ah, make that distinction.” I cleared my throat and played with the base of my glass. I briefly contemplated rolling the glass against my cheeks to address my blush.

  “So, what are you doing while you’re being a bum, exactly?”

  “You mean other than taking trips to Tiburon with girls from New Zealand?”

  I nodded.

  “I’ve been working a few things out, I guess. Dealing with my mother.” He laughed. “She went apoplectic when I quit.”

  “If she’s anything like Prickle Monroe, I could imagine.”

  Todd’s eyebrows shot up. “You’ve met Sabrina’s mom?”

  “Ah, yeah. She kind of turned up at the apartment unannounced one day. I’m, ah, staying there for a while.”

  This was getting awkward again.

  Thankfully, Todd seemed completely unfazed by this information. “Priscilla and my mom, Bitsy, are pretty much cookie-cutter versions of each other.”

  Todd’s mother was called Bitsy?

  “How about your dad? Was he upset about your career change?”

  “Oh, yeah. He went on and on about family tradition and duty. I wasn’t surprised. I wouldn’t have expected anything else from him.”

  “Are you okay with it all?” I asked cautiously. He seemed fine to me, but then he seemed unaffected when Sabrina had left him. Maybe he was the kind of guy who played his cards close to his chest?

  “You know what? I am. I’m a twenty-seven-year-old man with my life ahead of me, I’m not going to live it for anyone else.”

  I smiled at him over my glass. “Good for you.”

  We spent the rest of the evening discussing possible career options for Todd, now that he was a “cute bum”—and I knew he also had a cute butt because I’d totally lied about not having checked it out.

  Our tacos were delicious, and the margaritas kept coming. By the time we had to board the ferry to return to the city, I was feeling a little tipsy—and a whole lot happy.

  We talked all the way back to the Ferry Building, and Todd offered to drive me to Sabrina’s place. It was nice to be in a car, zipping through the city streets. For someone who virtually lived in her car in Florida, it was a surprisingly fun experience.

  But then, maybe that was more because I was with Todd.

  He found a spot on Sabrina’s street and pulled up.

  I turned to face him. “Thanks for today. It was great.”

  “No problem. I had a lot of fun.”

  There was a lull in conversation as the atmosphere shifted.

  “Well, I’d better get going,” I said.

  “Yeah, I guess I should too.”

  Either emboldened by the tequila or my libido—or a potent cocktail of the two—I leaned over and reached out to touch his arm. I knew I was flirting with catastrophe, going against my rule to remain “just friends,” but in that moment, I did not care.

  We locked eyes for a moment in the partial darkness, and the butterflies in my tummy went ballistic.

  “Addi, I . . .” he began.

  I nodded. “I know. We can’t.”

  He nodded, too. And then, without uttering another word, he reached across and cupped my face gently in his hands, not letting our gaze break. He leaned closer in to me and brushed his lip
s against mine. It was a soft, achingly tender kiss, and I swear the sky exploded around us like fireworks at Disney World—and I knew all about that, having lived Orlando for almost two years. Me and the Disney gang were close personal friends.

  Coming to my senses, I pulled back from him, bashing my head painfully against the doorframe. “Ow!” I rubbed my head with my hand.

  “Are you okay?” Todd asked, placing his hand on my knee.

  We both looked down at it, and he pulled it slowly away.

  “I’m sorry, Todd. You have to know I want more from you, but I just can’t.”

  “I know. And so do I.”

  I opened the door and slipped out, closing it quickly behind me. Without looking back, I walked down the sidewalk toward Sabrina’s apartment building door, my emotions churning inside.

  I closed my eyes as I heard Todd’s car rumble off, and I stood on the sidewalk, wrangling with my heart screaming at me not to let him go.

  I let out a long breath and almost bowled into someone. I opened my mouth to apologize when I noticed it was Naomi, standing by the doorway, her hands on her hips, glaring at me.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  Chapter 18

  Sabrina

  How did the meeting go about the wedding? Did they choose Blooms?

  I had been staying up late every night in preparation for the meeting with Christina and Rhonda. I decided to print out several pictures from my website, just in case Rhonda happened to have an irrational fear of computers, like Mrs. Watson.

  You just never knew.

  And speaking of Mrs. Watson, she was in rare form yesterday. When she came into Blooms, she was spouting some nonsense about Faye Stanley bringing a cherry pie to their church luncheon. I still didn’t know who Faye Stanley was. According to her, Faye was trying to pass off Mrs. Watson’s family recipe as her own, and now she was thinking about taking legal action against her. This had to be the craziest thing I had ever heard—well, almost as crazy as her claims that computers were the devil.

  So, after that, I was hoping to have a nice, normal meeting with Christina and her mother.

  “Wine, huh?” Isabella asked, eyeing the rows of bottles I had lined up for the meeting.

  I shrugged my shoulders. “Wine, water, Diet Coke. I figured we’d have a variety of options for our meeting. You know the girls at Fuchsia Flowers will go overboard.”