Petal Plucker: A Steamy Romantic Comedy

by Iris Morland

“Apologize for what?” For which thing, exactly? I wanted to ask.

  “I’m sure you don’t remember, but it was in eighth grade. I wrote this stupid valentine and put it on your locker. It was mean. I’m sorry.”

  “Oh. Well. It’s okay. It was a long time ago.”

  Tiffany was called away to attend a new patient, leaving me to think. She’d always been on my list of shitty people: liars, assholes, people who dressed their dogs in sweaters. Once someone made the list, they never came off of it. Mostly because they never tried to get off of it. In my experience, once someone screwed you over, they’d do it again.

  Yet Tiffany McClain, of all people, had apologized to me. It made me wonder if my list was too harsh, if I didn’t give people a chance to redeem themselves.

  Most dangerously, though, I wondered if I could let myself actually trust Jacob.

  Chapter Seven

  I pushed my empty wineglass across the bar. “Pour me another,” I said.

  “You’re drinking white wine, not a snifter of brandy.” Anna poured me another glass and leaned on the counter. “You gonna tell me what happened or am I going to have to beat it out of you?”

  “You’re shorter than me, so good luck.”

  “Stature has nothing to do with it.” Anna flexed her biceps, which were, admittedly, rather impressive. “Spill, Dani, or you don’t get any more wine.”

  Anna worked as a bartender in a dive bar in Fremont, about a half mile from my apartment. The counters and chairs were always sticky, and the place didn’t sell anything more expensive than cheap vodka from Costco. Anna had been working here for the last three years, and thanks to her pretty face and ability to sweet-talk men, she earned great tips and could afford her studio apartment by herself. It also helped that her landlord was one of five people in the city who’d yet to raise the rent to an astronomical rate.

  I signed, burying my face in my arms. “Jacob West is back,” I mumbled.

  “Yeah, I didn’t hear anything you just said. Use your words.”

  I looked straight at Anna and enunciated, “Jacob. West. Is. Back.”

  Anna stared at me for so long I started to blush, which was stupid, because it’s not like I’d done anything stupid. Not yet, anyway. But Anna was also the one person who knew exactly how obsessed I’d been with Jacob back in the day.

  “Are you serious?” said Anna. “Are you fucking serious?”

  “Totes. Where’s my wine?”

  “You aren’t getting any until you tell me how you know this, why you know this, and why you didn’t tell me immediately.”

  “Hey, I’m a paying customer—”

  “You are not. You come here for free booze.” Anna pointed a finger at me. “Spill.”

  Normally, Anna and I told each other everything: no topic was off-limits. She told me about her dates with men who ended up having a daddy/daughter fetish or who wanted to dress up as furries during sex. As for me, I rarely had any interesting sex stories to tell, but I always told Anna about what was going on in my life. We were best friends, after all.

  “He showed up at the store last week. I also saw him again when I tried to take his folks a quiche. It was strange and I’m still confused about it all. That was about it.”

  “Hey, can I get a refill?” said a guy a few bar stools down. “Or are you two too busy gossiping?”

  “Shut up, Donny. We’re talking here.” Anna waved a dismissive hand. Donny was a regular and was always complaining about the service, although I was pretty sure he enjoyed it when Anna insulted him. Donny muttered into his drink but didn’t ask for a refill again for the next twenty minutes. How Anna managed to keep this job for three years, I had no idea. She was a terrible bartender.

  “Okay, back to important things. What does he look like? Did he get fat and sad because karma is a bitch?” Anna’s eyes sparkled.

  I groaned. “No, worse: he got hot. Really fucking hot!”

  “Well, that’s just rude. But at the same time, if you keep running into him like this, maybe it’s a sign from the universe.”

  “That my life is a joke and existence is pointless?”

  “No, you nihilist. That you should jump Jacob’s hot dick finally! You know you want to.”

  “That is a truly terrible plan. You’re assuming Jacob would want me to jump him.” Then again, he had been flirting with me at his shop: I couldn’t be so dense not to notice that. But flirting didn’t mean he wanted to fuck me. Probably. Maybe. Men were confusing.

  “Wait,” said Anna, as she finally got Donny’s refill when he started complaining again. “Wait, why did he come by your store? Did you ever find out the real reason?”

  “He wanted to say hello.”

  Anna frowned, and I could tell she was thinking something she was afraid to share.

  “To repeat what you said earlier: spill it,” I said.

  She sighed. “I’m just worried, is all. If he’s taken over Flowers, he might be scoping out your store.”

  “That’s what my mom said. But why now? When we’ve been competitors for decades now? Besides, what could he have seen just by looking inside our store for a half hour?”

  “That’s a good point. It’s not like he broke inside and stole the secret sauce.” Anna’s eyes sparkled. “But most importantly, what did Jacob say both times you saw him? I want every single detail.”

  I told her about how he’d come to Buds and Blossoms, how he’d bought one of my gardenia arrangements, and how he’d brought up our childhood friendship. But when I told her about our encounter at Flowers, her eyes kept getting bigger and bigger until I was afraid they’d fall out of her head.

  “Dandelion, you big dingus, he was flirting with you! Holy shit. Jacob West, Dani. This is amazing!”

  “Just because he was flirting with me,” I said, “doesn’t mean he wants anything more than that. I mean, look at me.”

  Anna’s eyes flashed. She always got pissed with me when I pointed out that I was the epitome of a Plain Jane. To me, I was being practical about my looks, but Anna seemed to take it personally. But she didn’t understand that when somebody looked like me, you couldn’t expect men to want you like they did when you looked like Anna or like Mari.

  Anna was basically a guy’s wet dream walking ever since she’d turned eighteen: a rosebud mouth, big boobs, a tiny waist, and the ability to mix any drink you could think of. When we’d been kids, she’d been as shy as me, but she’d blossomed during college. She’d soon figured out how to talk to men, to flirt with them, to make them want everything about her. I didn’t hate her for it: in fact, I admired her for it. It was just how things were, end of story.

  “You are beautiful—no, listen to me.” Anna poked me in the shoulder with a French-tipped nail. “You are. I know you don’t see it because of whatever dumb reason you decide to tell yourself, but you’re gorgeous and if any guy can’t see that, they suck. And I’m not humoring you, either. I’m not surprised Jacob flirted with you because he actually finds you attractive and smart and funny.”

  “More like awkward as hell, but I love you anyway.” I patted Anna’s hand. “It’s not going to happen.”

  “Why? Because maybe you might risk being vulnerable? You’d have to trust somebody?” She put her hands on her hips.

  I did not need this Dr. Phil talk right now. Putting down a ten-dollar bill, I said, “I’m heading home. Keep the change.”

  “Love you, bitch-face. But I want you to get some Jacob dick!” She almost yelled the words, which made Donny guffaw. I blushed and flipped her off. Anna just blew me a kiss in reply.

  I walked home without really seeing where I was going. I didn’t need to—I knew this route by heart. Since it was summer, the sun had only set an hour ago, even though it was close to eleven o’clock, and the night was warm. It wasn’t a long walk, but it would help get rid of this nervous energy coursing through me every time anyone so much as mentioned Jacob’s name.

  Why did he still have to affect me so much?
It was as if the years had never even happened, as if he’d never stood me up at prom and he’d never left Seattle. It was as if my brain was convinced he had taken me to prom, had told me he wanted me to be his girlfriend, and we’d dated all through college.

  I kicked at a pebble, the sound of it bouncing along the sidewalk rather satisfying. I kicked another one, then another, watching them tumble downhill.

  Although the streets were well-lit, it was still dark enough now that I failed to notice someone turning the corner at the bottom of the hill. I kicked a rock right at the same time the stranger crossed my path. I heard the stranger swear in surprise, and I jumped out of the way and almost fell into a bush.

  “Are you okay?” I asked, guilt assailing me. Now I was assaulting random strangers? I needed to get my ass in line or somebody was going to get killed because I was too focused on this dumb crush I had.

  The stranger moved into the light, grimacing. “Why do I have a feeling you knew it was me?”

  It was Jacob. Of course it was. He was destined to see every stupid thing I did. Suddenly, I didn’t feel so badly that I’d kicked a rock into his shin.

  “How would I have known it was you? It’s dark. I didn’t see you,” I said shortly.

  “That was a terrible apology.”

  Despite my best efforts, I laughed. “I’m sorry. Really. Are you okay?”

  Jacob was rubbing his shin and then picked up the offending rock, which was about the size of a half-dollar. “Christ, I’m glad I wasn’t wearing shorts. You’re a menace.”

  I was rather sad that he wasn’t wearing shorts, only because I knew he’d have legs worth ogling, bruised and bloodied or not.

  “Can you walk? Should I call an Uber? Or take you to the hospital?” I offered, rolling my eyes at his insult. It was a rock, not a grenade.

  Jacob snorted. “I’m fine. You won’t need to carry me home.”

  “What are you doing here, anyway?”

  “I was down at Gas Works Park. Now I’m going home. Because I live nearby. Just like you do.”

  It was such a reasonable answer that I felt momentarily flummoxed. We were probably walking the same direction, but did we walk together? Or should I cut through the neighborhood to avoid the conversation that would definitely be awkward? Then again, if his leg was hurting and he needed help…

  “Did you know that you narrow your eyes when you’re thinking way too hard?” said Jacob.

  “What?” I widened my eyes. “I’m not thinking.”

  “I’m not sure that’s something you should admit.” His smile sent my hormones into overdrive. He looked tousled, probably from the wind that came off the lake down at Gas Works. I wanted to kiss the indentation right above his collarbone.

  “Well, I’m going home. Sorry about kicking a rock into your leg.”

  I started walking. To my dismay, Jacob followed me and began to walk right next to me, like we were a couple. When I reached my apartment, I said, “Thanks for walking me home, especially after the whole rock incident.”

  Jacob crossed his arms over his chest. “I actually live three blocks that way.” He pointed to where we had already walked past. “So, either you can tell me to go home, or you can make up for breaking my shin by inviting me inside.” His smile was wide, reminding me of the Cheshire Cat again.

  Because I was Alice—completely out of my depth—I said, “If you want.”

  “I do want.”

  I shivered a little, but I told myself he only wanted to come inside to—I didn’t know. Meet my cat? Men like him didn’t invite themselves into my apartment. Correction: men didn’t come into my apartment ever. Why would they, when I never got past the first or second date with them?

  I heard Anna’s words in my mind. He was flirting with you, you dingus. That could be the only explanation. I was officially in Wonderland, where none of the rules I knew existed.

  Chapter Eight

  My hand was shaking when I unlocked my door. Would he try to kiss me? Sleep with me? I barely stopped myself from laughing hysterically. But beyond some flirting, he hadn’t expressed any other kind of interest. Shouldn’t he, I don’t know, ask me on a date first?

  “Home sweet home,” I croaked, flipping on the kitchen light. Kevin ambled up to me, his tail high and proud, until he saw Jacob. Instantly, he flattened his ears and hissed before darting into my bedroom.

  “Um, sorry. Kevin isn’t so great with strangers,” I explained.

  “Your cat’s name is Kevin? And was he missing a leg?”

  “Yes, and yes. He also has only one eye.” I laughed at Jacob’s expression. “He had a tough life on the streets before he was rescued and I adopted him.”

  Jacob gave me an odd look, and I wondered if I’d said anything stupid. Feeling flustered, I blurted, “You want anything to drink?”

  “I’m fine.” Jacob went to my living room window, which faced south toward downtown, the Space Needle visible to the west.

  I stared at Jacob’s back, once again wondering why he’d asked himself into my apartment. He wasn’t exactly jumping my bones right this minute, and I couldn’t believe he’d come up just to look at the skyline, considering he’d just been down at Gas Works.

  I floundered for something to say, but the silence kept stretching on and on. I couldn’t figure out why Jacob had asked to come up in the first place. Anna’s voice inside my brain kept getting louder, telling me that he liked me and wanted to spend time with me and touch me and kiss me and—

  A hiss echoed in the room as Kevin spotted Jacob and proceeded to climb up his cat tree to survey his domain. Black and white with white socks, Kevin looked like a guy who’d gotten dressed up in a tux but had been mugged outside a fancy gala. His one green eye narrowed as he stared Jacob down.

  “Your cat is terrifying,” said Jacob.

  “He’s all bark and no bite. I just never have anyone over so he’s not used to strangers.” I winced, realizing what exactly I was saying. But when I saw Jacob’s gaze heat, suddenly that embarrassment turned to desire, pooling low in my belly.

  I went over and stroked Kevin behind his ears because I needed to do something. He started purring, adding in a few growls to remind Jacob that he still wasn’t welcome. But my attention was solely on Jacob: the way he cocked his head to the side as he watched me. The way strands of his hair fell across his forehead. He suddenly reminded me so much of the boy I’d once loved that my chest hurt. Memories—both good and bad—tangled together in this present moment.

  “Do you miss New York?” I asked, because it was the only thing I could think of.

  “Sometimes, but every day that passes, I don’t think about it as much. I know everyone harps on the Seattle Freeze, but New Yorkers are basically made of ice compared to people here.”

  “I’m sure Seattleites are as nice as Canadians in comparison.”

  His lips tilted up in a smile. “Basically.”

  “But your job? Do you miss it? This whole taking over your parents’ business has to be a huge change,” I pressed.

  “It is. But I wanted to do it.”

  “Really? And you wanted to give it all up?”

  “It wasn’t so much I wanted to if other things hadn’t pushed me to make that choice. But I needed to come back, I guess would be more accurate. I needed to come back and take care of my parents.”

  I had a hard time believing it. He’d been a successful stockbroker and living in one of the most exciting cities on earth. He’d gotten out of his parents’ flower bubble, whereas I was still living in mine. It was a comfortable bubble, I had to admit, but sometimes I wondered if I’d sold myself short by going to school here and never leaving.

  “Sometimes people expect things of you,” he said, almost to himself, “but you can’t live up to those expectations. It just isn’t going to happen.”

  “I have a hard time believing you couldn’t do anything you set out to achieve.”

  A muscle ticked in his jaw. Once again, I was reminded t
hat I didn’t really know this Jacob. Not really. Despite being only a few feet away from him, I felt the distance between us was as wide as the Pacific Ocean, and I had no boat to traverse it.

  “Have you ever thought you were one thing but you were really something else?” he asked.

  I frowned. “Not really. I’ve always known I was going to run my parents’ shop. Make floral arrangements, grow plants. I never doubted that.”

  “You’re lucky, then.” He said the words with such conviction that I wanted to ask him what he really meant. But then his expression grew shuttered, and I didn’t have the courage to draw back the shades.

  “Sorry,” he said suddenly, “I didn’t mean to get all vague and dramatic.”

  “It was basically the definition of vague-booking.”

  “I resent that. I don’t even have a Facebook.”

  I knew that, because I paid attention to very important details like this. He had an Instagram, but he only updated it a few times a month. He used to have a Facebook, but he’d deactivated it years ago. But I kept that information to myself. There was no reason to prove to him I was, in fact, a total creep.

  “Do you even like flowers?” I asked, curious. “You never seemed interested in your parents’ place when we were kids.”

  “To be fair, I was just a kid.”

  “Yeah, but I’ve always loved the business. If I could spend all day with plants and avoid human contact, I would.”

  His lips twitched. “That’s not necessarily a thing to brag about.” His smile faded. “Would you believe me if I said that my parents never wanted me to run the business?”

  I didn’t believe him. Considering he was their only child, it didn’t make sense that they’d been the ones resistant, not Jacob.

  “Why not? Isn’t that what parents want, for their kids to continue their legacy?” I said.

  “My parents started Flowers with the idea that it would get successful enough to sell it and my parents would retire by the time they were in their fifties. When that didn’t happen and my dad had a stroke, I basically had to threaten them to let me take over everything.”