And how did he know that I’d be home?
“I HAVE A delivery for Addison Wade.”
I frown at the flower delivery boy who just walked into Seduction. We aren’t even open yet for the day.
“That’s me.”
“Oh, look how beautiful those are,” Daisy says beside me. She’s all heart-eyed as I take the bouquet of yellow roses.
They smell so damn good.
What is he doing?
“There’s a card,” Daisy says as Riley joins us.
“Got flowers?” Riley asks.
“No, I got chicken pox,” I mutter and pull the card from its envelope.
A—
Sixty-three yellow roses. One for every day our friendship grew. I miss you.
—J
“Damn, that’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever read,” Cami says from behind me, startling me.
“Where did you come from?”
“I heard Riley say that you got flowers. That’s very sweet of him, Addie.”
I shrug and carry the beautiful roses back to our office, Cami, Riley, and Daisy following me like little ducklings.
“He’s sending me things,” I mutter with a frown.
“This isn’t your first delivery?” Cami asks, trading glances with Riley.
“No.” I tell them about the photo and the food from yesterday.
“He’s obviously trying to woo you,” Cami says with a romantic sigh.
“Well, it’s not going to work,” I say, not with nearly as much conviction as I’d like.
“Why?” Daisy asks. “He’s hot and, like, totally into you.”
I shake my head. No way.
“You could just talk to him,” Riley says.
“I’ll pass. Kat said it best the other night. The more I talk to him, the more it’ll keep hurting. It hurts enough already. He’ll give up and go away.” I shrug, as though it’s no big deal, but I want to curl up and cry.
And I refuse to give him even one more tear. I have a life to get on with.
“SO, HOW ARE you really?” Cici asks the next day as she takes my nail polish off.
“I’m really sick of answering that question,” I reply, glaring at my friend. “Seriously, we all need to move on.”
“Hey, I haven’t seen you since it all went down, so I get to ask.”
“I’m hurting and I’m tired and I’m pretty sure everyone hates hanging out with me these days because I’m a bitch.” I smile sweetly. “But I’m fantastic.”
“Well, you’re still a smart-ass, so that’s a good sign.”
“A good sign of what?”
“I don’t know, it just sounded like a good thing to say.”
I chuckle and shake my head. “You’re funny.”
“And your nails look like you’ve been clawing at the walls.”
“I cleaned my condo on Sunday from top to bottom with no gloves.” I shrug. “I clean when I’m stressed out.”
“Next time, come clean my house.”
“You have four kids. I wouldn’t even clean your house with gloves on.”
We’re both laughing as Cici’s husband comes into her studio carrying a huge bouquet of pink roses. “Sorry to interrupt, but these were just delivered for you, Addie.”
“Wow,” Cici says with wide eyes. “You don’t send me flowers like that.”
“I don’t think I screw up as big as this guy must have,” he replies with a wink and returns to the main house.
“There are a lot of flowers here,” I mutter, staring at the beautiful pink blooms. “He sent sixty-three yesterday, and there’s more than that here.”
“He sent flowers yesterday too?” Cici asks.
“Yeah.”
She pulls the card out of its plastic holder and passes it to me before burying her nose in the fragrant blooms. “Seriously, my husband needs to pick up his game.”
A—
A pink rose for when I think of kissing your gorgeous lips. Not one for every time because they’d never all fit in one room, but a hundred is a start. I miss you.
—J
“Marry him. Right now.”
I shake my head and tuck the card in my purse, next to the other three notes from Jake. “He’s not mine.”
“But it’s clear that he could be. Aren’t you being stubborn?”
“Yes.” I nod and sit back in the chair. “And you know why? Because when I forgive, I just get my heart trampled on again and again, and I’m not settling for that again. He tossed me away. He doesn’t get me back.”
“I’M GOING TO lock you out of the kitchen,” I warn Mia the next afternoon, right before we open for lunch. “I’m serious, Mia, you need a day off.”
“I took last Tuesday off,” she says stubbornly, glaring at Kat and me. “I need to check on the new appetizer menu.”
“No. You don’t.” Kat crosses her arms over her chest. “Go home, Mia.”
Mia’s dark brown eyes are furious as she spins and stomps out of the restaurant, slamming the door behind her.
“I hate that she won’t voluntarily take days off,” I murmur. “Even one day a week.”
“I know,” Kat replies, her eyes widening at something over my shoulder. “Um, I think those are for you.”
I spin around and am met with a smiling delivery boy—the same one from Monday—and more white roses than I can count.
“For me?” I ask.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“You can just put them on the bar.”