Page 48 of The Floral Arrangement

“It’s been…” My impulse was to say it was going great, but Matt’s voice in my head made me reconsider. “It’s been a steep learning curve.”

George tilted her head.Come on, Roz. Elaborate.While I was looking at George, I was deeply aware of Olivia’s presence next to me, of her chest gently rising and falling as she breathed, of her slightly sweet floral scent. I wiped my slightly clammy palms on my pants.Focus.

“I’m good at the business side, at the numbers, at strategy, at looking for efficiencies”—in my periphery, Olivia shot Dana a look and rolled her eyes—“but I’m not familiar with the day-to-day running of a farm, so I’m having to rely heavily on my staff. Thankfully, they’re all very good at what they do.” I looked at Dana and gave her a little nod before turning to Jenny. “Thanks again for sending Olivia that email about the event spaces, by the way. It was incredibly helpful.” There. I leaned back in my chair. Matt would be proud at how personable I was being. I’d admitted a weakness, showered my employees with praise and thanked Jenny. You couldn’t get more personable than that.

“No problem.” Jenny smiled. “Let me know if you have any other questions. I’m excited that we might get another venue.”

I glanced at Olivia, who was sipping from her wine glass. Was I imagining it, or had she shifted her chair slightly away from mine? “I also need to thank you for sending through the sustainability sections of the business plan.”So personable.

“Was it okay?” Olivia asked.

“It was really good.” Surprisingly good.

Olivia’s face brightened. “I’m glad. All the practice I got doing business plans in my twenties finally paid off.”

Blake gazed around our table. “It looks like Dan’s getting ready to start. Does anyone need to do some last-minute brushing up on their topics before we put our phones away?”

George groaned. “I can’t read another word about baseball. Dan better ask a question about it.”

Hannah laughed, wrapping her arm around George and squeezing. “And I’m now an expert on the NHL. I should probably take up writing hockey romances.”

George elbowed her gently. “You have to finish your current series first. I need to know what happens!”

I surprised myself with a chuckle. Why wasn’t I finding their PDA off-putting? It was almost… cute. I glanced over at Olivia, who was studying her wine glass with great interest.

“Okay everyone! We’re starting now,” a man announced. “Please take your seats.”

Blake grabbed a pen and paper from the middle of the table.

“For those who don’t know me, I’m Dan, and I’ll be your host tonight. Now remember, no phones are allowed while we’re playing. Is everyone ready?” He looked around the packed pub and a cheer broke out. “Excellent. The first question is: what happened in 1929 on the day that became known as Black Tuesday?”

My heart jumped. I leaned in. “That’s easy. The stock market crashed.”

As Blake scribbled down the answer, Olivia brushed her fingertips over the black coaster in front of her, following its contours. Her nails were neatly cut and there was a long thin red scratch across the back of her hand. Had she hurt herself at work? Scratches were probably an occupational hazard for florists, given all those unpleasant thorns and twigs they had to handle.

“Question two. What is the hair-like material on an ear of corn called?”

“Silk!” Dana and Olivia hissed in unison. They high-fived each other, laughing. Olivia’s eyes crinkled, her white teeth gleaming between her pink lips. Her face, framed with glossy brown hair, was so expressive. My breath caught, and I realized I was grinning as well. I’d also completely zoned out of the trivia questions.

“Question five. What is the Gini coefficient most often used to measure?” Dan scanned the groups of people huddled over their tables.

“Oh god,” George said. “I don’t have a clue.”

“Income inequality,” I muttered, earning myself a smile from Blake.

By the time the third round was over and Blake handed our answer sheet in, I was buzzing.

“I have a good feeling about this,” Jenny announced, rubbing her hands.

Blake elbowed her. “Hey! Don’t jinx us!” She turned to look at The Gran Masters, who were now digging into a bowl of fries. “The grannies are looking confident as well.”

George had just finished telling us about a Major League Baseball manager who was ejected from a game and tried to sneak back in wearing a fake mustache and borrowed clothes when the music was turned down and Dan cleared his throat. “We have a tie for first place tonight.” I bit my lip. Could we be one of the winning teams? I was surprised how invested I was in our success. “There’s only one prize, so we’ll go to a tie-breaker round between The Whisk Takers and The Gran Masters.” Our table cheered. Dan continued. “So we’re not here all night, whichever team gets the first question wrong or fails to write an answer within one minute of the question being asked, will lose. I’ll be checking The Whisk Takers answers in real time and my trusty bartender Zach will be monitoring The Gran Masters.” Zach put down a pint glass he was drying with a dish towel and stepped out from behind the bar.

Blake gripped the pen, looking around the table. “Okay. We can do this, folks.”

“I wish I’d convinced Mom to stay a few more days in Florida,” George groaned, gazing at a smartly dressed woman with a gray bob at The Gran Masters table. “She definitely got that one we missed about Bhutan.”

I peered at George. “That’s your mom?”

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