Page 3 of The Floral Arrangement

I snorted. While she was clearly joking, was she a doctor? My gaze dropped to her hands, taking in her long, slender fingers and short, unpolished nails. She wasn’t a manual laborer, that was for sure. An image of those fingers lightly trailing down my back flickered into my mind, sending a shiver down my spine. I blinked. Straight women wouldn’t have these types of thoughts, would they?

Brenda returned, handing the Amex back to its owner. Her elegant index finger and thumb clamped down on her credit card, then she slid it into a pocket on her phone case.

Stop gawking at her fingers, Liv. She’s going to think you’re a creep.

As she snapped the case shut, I caught a glimpse of a photo of a young blond girl who bore more than a passing resemblance to her. Was it her daughter? Maybe she was divorced, and that was why she was so anti-marriage.

“Thank you.” I smiled. “I’ll get the next one.”

“Fine. As long as I can hand you your coat.” While her delivery was deadpan, there was a twinkle in the woman’s eye. She shifted her body so she was facing me, and the scent of cedar grew stronger.So it is her.

“We’ll see. You might be falling off your chair soon too.” I grinned and nodded at her glass which contained a very generous pour of whiskey. “I’m Olivia, by the way.”

“Roz,” she replied then raised her glass, those intense blue eyes focused directly on mine. “Cheers.”

Roz’s soft, full lips pressed against the glass, and a flicker of heat licked my core.Oh god.That definitely did not feel platonic.

“Cheers!” I said, taking a larger-than-intended gulp of my negroni.

As the alcohol warmed my throat, I glanced around the room again. Roz was clearly being polite, probably having taken pity on me after witnessing my ineptitude. While she was intriguing and attractive, was her presence scaring off potential suitors who might actually be interested in me? I resisted the urge to chuckle at my own thoughts.Other suitors? This isn’t the 1800s, Liv.My scan of the room didn’t identify any eligible options in any event.

A ring-tone brought my attention back to Roz. She whipped a phone out of her pocket and glowered at it.

“Is everything okay?” I asked.

“Yes, just work,” Roz replied, pursing her lips.

“On a Saturday night?” I frowned.

“Yes, unfortunately, in my line of work I’m on call twenty-four seven. I was in a video conference earlier today, trying to resolve something. It appears things have unraveled again.” Roz slipped off the bar stool. “I need to take this. Wait for me.”

She turned and strode out of the bar.

Her words rang in my ears.Wait for me. Usually, I’d bristle at someone giving me directions like that, especially in her clipped tone, but instead my neck tingled.

I gazed after her, my eyes lingering on her firm-looking butt encased in navy suit pants that looked like they’d been tailored especially for her. They probably were. Everything about Roz screamed expensive.

Roz wasn’t giving me doctor vibes anymore. Now it was more like political-fixer or ruthless-CEO energy. Something told me I wouldn’t want to go up against this woman in a work context.

“First date?”

I jumped in my seat, turning to find Brenda, the bartender, smiling at me over the counter.

Heat warmed my face. “Um, no. We don’t know each other.”

“You will soon if you two keep up with that flirting,” Brenda said, her smile even wider. “It’s very cute—not that I’m eavesdropping or anything.”

I stared.Flirting?We hadn’t been flirting. Had we? I ran through our interactions in my head. I certainly found her interesting… and attractive, possibly in a sexual way. Shit. Had it been that obvious?

Had Roz been flirting withme? There had been a definite note of teasing to her voice. She’d said she was happily single, but perhaps she was looking for something more casual. Or just playing with me.

My pulse jumped as the door to the bar opened, and Roz stepped inside, striding over to me. A shiver of nervous anticipation rushed down my spine.

I twisted my body to face Roz as she sat down. “Is everything alri—shit!”

As I turned, my elbow collided with my negroni, sending it skidding across the smooth wood of the bar at an alarming speed. My chest clenched. I shot out my hand to try to stop it, but I wasn’t fast enough. It flew off the counter, splashing over Roz’s shirt and pants before landing in her crotch.

“Shit, shit, shit! I’m so sorry.”

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