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“The arrangements have turned out incredible.” I run my hand along the flower petals, lending into the peace they offer. This day has been chaotic, even for me. “The guests for tomorrow’s wedding are going to come in their pants when they see this. That’s how fucking stunning it is.”
Seeing Georgia’s catalog in Carter’s home gave me a near heart attack. The morning after, I woke up with a sense of mission. I decided to take proactive measures that’d keep my shop afloat. I had to branch out.
My heart was set on offering my services as a wedding supplier.
I would’ve done it by myself, except my aesthetic sense was nonexistent. I was great at growing flowers and plants. Giving them the best conditions to thrive and to be the best version of themselves.
Arrangements? Pfft. Better ask me to tell the difference between a butter knife and a kitchen knife.
That was where Opal came in. My wedding department of one woman. My lifesaver. On her first week here, one of her relatives got married and we landed that gig. Ever since, the word has spread. I’ve been keeping her busy filling orders while I’ve been doing pretty much everything else.
Including the few walk-in clients that give her anxiety.
It’s safe to say that the two of us complete each other. My only sort of a friend.
“You said you’d be gone for an hour.” She peeks at me, her large brown eyes wide behind her oversized glasses.
I’m a weirdo around people. I own that. Love that. Opal, though, she can’t do strangers at all. Working the register spikes her anxiety. She doesn’t want to fail me, which is impossible, but she doesn’t believe me when I say that. So I stopped.
“It’s been two.” One of her long, thick blond braids drapes over her shoulder, and she rearranges it behind her back nervously. “And this one person walked in.”
Poor girl. I thought my early encounter with Killian was awkward. Looking at her, I see I wasn’t the only one struggling.
“Got held up.” I force a smile on my face. Carter promised things would be okay, that Killian doesn’t hate me. I need to believe him. “Did they get anything?”
“No. He looked up and around, then rubbed his chin, smirked, and left. I’m sorry he didn’t buy anything, but I was so relieved.” When I don’t respond, she pushes her glasses up on her freckled nose. “Hey, you okay?”
Shit.
Inhaling the fragrance of the flowers, I calm myself down. I maneuver around the arrangements and lock my purse in the locker behind the counter.
She places her scissors on the counter, gripping my hands in hers. She’s forgotten about the walk-in customer. It’s me that has her worried.
Crap.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” The lie flows easily past my lips. I broaden my fake smile and nod, my space buns bobbing on my head. “Life’s peachy.”
Opal frowns. I don’t think she buys it.
“Do I need to use these,”—she releases me, grabs the floral scissors again and clamps them twice in the air—“on a special someone that starts with a C and ends with I broke into your apartment as foreplay?”
The shock at hearing her joke freezes me for a moment. She doesn’t sound anxious at confronting Carter. Because of me.
It feels like she’s hugging my heart. And also, she’s hilarious. I had no idea Opal had it in her.
I choke on my spit for a moment before bursting into giggles.
She’s the only person in my life to know Carter and I are dating. Naturally, I shared some of his dirty-yet-safe-for-work texts with her. The only person other than Carter and Killian who cares enough to listen to me.
I’m curious as I study this hidden side of Opal. The introverted woman who came out of her shell to threaten Carter. For me.
Honestly, she’s so cute. My giggle escalates into full-blown laughter the longer I think about it. My eyes tear up and I snatch my hands from hers to wipe at my cheeks.
“What?” Her smooth brow creases. “I know it’s not your parents because you’re never upset over anything those assholes do anymore. There’s only one culprit left.”
“It’s a delicate situation,” I explain.
“Meaning it’ll be easier to handle.” She raises the scissors. “Snip, snip, snip.”
