Page 35 of Five Days to Be Mine

“Evan, what do you think?”

Coming over to the front, I nod. “It looks great.”

The curve of the sofa beckons to something elegant and smooth, and it's going to fit in fine. “They can set it down.”

“Oh right, sorry! Set it down and then we’ll move the tables, see how it looks.”

My cell phone chimes with an address in Maple Ridge.

I know the traffic is going to be hell, but I'm determined to go see Mara and find out why she left me that night.

8 MARA

“Mara, watch out!”

I catch a lamp before it falls to the garage floor, setting it against an old trunk.

“Thanks, Alex.”

This is the farthest thing from the sleek, professional design studio I spent the last eight years working in, but it’s all mine.

I brush a drop of rain off my jacket and shove my hands in my pockets.

I’m smiling like a cartoon character despite the rain hitting me from the open door and I don’t care.

“Guys, the delivery driver called, and he’s half an hour out! Any questions about the designs?” I say to the three people huddled around an old milk crate.

Marc Mitchell ran his hand over his scruffy beard. “No, it's perfectly laid out, Mara. Wendy Svennson wants you to come and deck the place out for her open house party. Four rooms, the requested colour theme is purple and silver.”

“These are large pieces,” Suki Winters says, flipping her sleek, long black hair off her shoulders. “Are you sure we have enough hands to get it done?”

I swiped on the design to the material list. “We can handle it. The arch for the front entrance is the largest. It's going to take nine hours. The other three pieces aren’t that big.”

“No, it’s painful, all this intricate detail about butterflies blooming.” Alex O’Riley taps a silver nail on my sketch. “But it’s awesome, Mara.”

“Thanks,” I say, grinning.

The last six weeks were a whirlwind after quitting my job at Wilson’s Superb Floral Designs—known floral designers to the stars—and I struck out on my own.

It’s not how I imagined it, but at least I was free from self-centred bosses with big egos.

“Thanks for coming in to help me unload.”

“You have no idea what’s coming in?” Marc asks.

“Wendy said it was pieces she bought and handpicked the structures and some other odds and ends she thought I could use.”

“Clients are so unpredictable,” Suki says.

“We’re here anytime you need us, Mara,” Alex says.

“Thanks guys,” I hear a truck roaring on the drive and step back out into the rain.

The driver of the truck wheeled down the window. “Hey! Mara Cotter?”

“That’s me,” I say, scrawling my name on the clipboard.

“Perfect. We’ll back up to the garage and make it easy.”

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