I watch him as he bends over the card and writes on both sides. I know I don’t have a right, but I’m brimming with jealousy.
“Are you bringing this girl to my birthday party Friday?” Allysa asks him.
I watch his reaction closely. He just shakes his head and without looking up he says, “No. Are you going, Lily?”
I can’t tell by his voice alone if he’s hoping I’ll be there or hoping I won’t. Considering the stress I seem to cause him, I’m guessing it’s the latter.
“I haven’t decided yet.”
“She’ll be there,” Allysa says, answering for me. She looks at me and narrows her eyes. “You’re coming to my party whether you like it or not. If you don’t show up, I’ll quit.”
When Ryle is finished writing, he tucks the card into the envelope attached to the flowers. Allysa rings up his total and he pays in cash. He looks at me while he’s counting out his money. “Lily, do you know that it’s custom for a new business to frame the first dollar they make?”
I nod. Of course I know that. He knows I know that. He’s just rubbing it in my face that his dollar will be the one framed on my wall for the life of this store. I almost encourage Allysa to give him a refund, but this is business. I have to leave my wounded pride out of it.
Once he has his receipt in hand, he taps his fist on the counter to get my attention. He dips his head a little and, with a genuine smile, he says, “Congratulations, Lily.”
He turns and walks out of the store. As soon as the door closes behind him, Allysa is grabbing for the envelope. “Who in the hell is he sending flowers to?” she says as she pulls the card out. “Ryle doesn’t send flowers.”
She reads the front of the card out loud. “Make it stop.”
Holy shit.
She stares at it for a moment, repeating the phrase. “Make it stop? What in the hell does that even mean?” she asks.
I can’t take it another second. I grab the card from her and flip it over. She leans over and reads the back of it with me.
“He is such an idiot,” she says with a laugh. “He wrote the address to our floral shop on the back.” She takes the card out of my hands.
Wow.
Ryle just bought me flowers. Not just any flower. He bought me a bouquet of lilies.
Allysa picks up her phone. “I’ll text him and tell him he screwed up.” She shoots him a text and then laughs as she stares at the flowers. “How can a neurosurgeon be such an idiot?”
I can’t stop grinning. I’m relieved she’s staring at the flowers and not at me or she may put two and two together. “I’ll keep them in my office until we figure out where he intended for them to go.” I scoop up the vase and whisk away my flowers.
Chapter Seven
“Stop fidgeting,” Devin says.
“I’m not fidgeting.”
He loops his arm through mine as he walks me toward the elevator. “Yes, you are. And if you pull that top up over your cleavage one more time, it’ll defeat the whole purpose of your little black dress.” He grabs my top and yanks it back down, and then proceeds to reach inside to adjust my bra.
“Devin!” I slap his hand away and he laughs.
“Relax, Lily. I’ve touched way better boobs than yours and I’m still gay.”
“Yeah, but I bet those boobs were attached to people you probably hang out with more than once every six months.”
Devin laughs. “True, but that’s half your fault. You’re the one who left us high and dry to play with flowers.”
Devin was one of my favorite people at the marketing firm I worked at, but we weren’t close enough to where we actively became friends outside of work. He stopped by the floral shop this afternoon and Allysa took to him almost immediately. She begged him to come to the party with me and since I didn’t really want to show up alone, I ended up begging him to come, too.
I smooth my hands over my hair and try to catch a glimpse of my reflection in the elevator walls.
“Why are you so nervous?” he asks.
“I’m not nervous. I just hate showing up to places where I don’t know anyone.”
Devin smirks knowingly and then says, “What’s his name?”
I release a pent-up breath. Am I that transparent? “Ryle. He’s a neurosurgeon. And he wants to have sex with me really, really bad.”
“How do you know he wants to have sex with you?”
“Because he literally got down on his knees and said, ‘Please, Lily. Please have sex with me.’ ”
Devin raises an eyebrow. “He begged?”
I nod. “It wasn’t as pathetic as it sounds. He’s usually more composed.”
The elevator dings and the doors begin to open. I can hear music pouring from down the hallway. Devin takes both of my hands in his and says, “So what’s the plan? Do I need to make this guy jealous?”
“No,” I say, shaking my head. “That wouldn’t be right.” But . . . Ryle does make it a point every time he sees me to tell me he hopes he never sees me again. “Maybe just a little?” I say, scrunching up my nose. “A smidge?”
Devin pops his jaw and says, “Consider it done.” He puts his hand on my lower back as he walks me out of the elevator. There’s only one visible door in the hallway, so we make our way over and ring the doorbell.
“Why is there only one door?” he says.
“She owns the whole top floor.”
He chuckles. “And she works for you? Damn, your life just keeps getting more and more interesting.”
The door begins to open, and I’m extremely relieved to see Allysa standing in front of me. There’s music and laughter pouring out of the apartment behind her. She’s holding a champagne glass in one hand and a riding crop in the other. She sees me staring at the riding crop with a confused look on my face, so she tosses it over her shoulder and grabs my hand. “It’s a long story,” she says, laughing. “Come in, come in!”
She pulls me in and I squeeze Devin’s hand and drag him behind me. She continues pulling us through a crowd of people until we reach the other side of the living room. “Hey!” she says, tugging on Marshall’s arm. He turns around and smiles at me, then pulls me in for a hug. I glance behind him, and around us, but there’s no sign of Ryle. Maybe I got lucky and he got called in to work tonight.
Marshall reaches out for Devin’s hand and shakes it. “Hey, man! Good to meet you!”
Devin wraps an arm around my waist. “I’m Devin!” he yells over the music. “I’m Lily’s sexual partner!”
I laugh and elbow him, then lean in to his ear. “That’s Marshall. Wrong guy, but nice effort.”
Allysa grabs my arm and starts to pull me away from Devin. Marshall begins speaking to him, and my hand is reaching out behind me as I’m being pulled in the opposite direction.
“You’ll be fine!” Devin yells.
I follow Allysa into the kitchen, where she shoves a glass of champagne in my hand. “Drink,” she says. “You deserve it!”
I take a sip of the champagne, but I can’t even appreciate it now that I’m getting a look at her industrial-sized kitchen with two full stovetops and a fridge bigger than my apartment. “Holy shit,” I whisper. “You actually live here?”
She giggles. “I know,” she says. “And to think, I didn’t even have to marry him for money. Marshall had seven bucks and drove a Ford Pinto when I fell in love with him.”
“Doesn’t he still drive a Ford Pinto?”
She sighs. “Yeah, but we have a lot of good memories in that car.”
“Gross.”
She wiggles her eyebrows. “So . . . Devin is cute.”
“And probably more into Marshall than me.”
“Ah, man,” she says. “That’s a bummer. I thought I was playing matchmaker when I invited him to the party tonight.”