Page 84 of The Floral Arrangement

George brushed a few coffee grains off the counter. “Ugh, I’m sorry Liv. That sucks. Are you going to mention this to the others—about Roz and being interested in women?”

“I don’t think so. Things between us clearly aren’t going anywhere. I’m not even sure if I’m bi, pan, a lesbian or something else.” I peered at George over my coffee cup, the corner of my mouth twitching up. “Honestly, after this weekend I’m veering toward lesbian.”

George chuckled. “It was that good, huh?”

I laughed. “It was incredible.” I looked down at the golden-brown coffee in my mug, my laughter subsiding.

“But in all seriousness, you don’t have to label your sexuality if you don’t want to. You don’t owe anyone a label.” George’s voice was so warm and kind my eyes filled with tears again. Roz had said something very similar while we were at Prue’s winery. God, that felt like eons ago.

“That’s true… But I’m sure people will want to know.”

George pressed her lips together. “Maybe. But that’s really none of their business.”

“Given my history of choosing the wrong thing, whether it’s jobs or boyfriends, I think I’ll keep it quiet for now.” I snorted. “Knowing me, I’ll announce I’m a lesbian and the next day fall madly in love with a man. Everyone is sick of watching me flip-flopping around, making terrible decisions. I’ll save them the pain of having to hear about the time I had a weekend of amazing sex with my enemy-turned-fake-girlfriend.”

The memory of me standing in the beer garden of Builders Arms on my thirtieth birthday, holding a glass of champagne, and loudly declaring that failed businesses and relationships were a thing of the past, flashed through my mind. I winced. Well, that hadn’t lasted long. Why had I thought another turn around the sun would magically improve my judgment?

George set down her mug and stared at me. “Liv. No one thinks you’ve been flip-flopping around, making terrible decisions. You’ve just been working out who you are, what you want to spend your life doing and who you want to spend it with. That takes time. It took me ages to work out I wanted to be a café owner and find Hannah.” George smiled. “There’s no pressure to come out or talk about Roz if you don’t want to. You should do it on your own time—or not at all. But I just want to make sure you know that everyone will be here for you if you do.”

I smiled at her, my chest filling with warmth. “Thanks.” George was seriously the best.

The door jingled and Ben walked into the store. “Morning! Should I flip the sign toopen?” Ben asked. “A line of cranky uncaffeinated customers has begun to form outside.” His hand hovered over the sign hanging on the window of the door.

George glanced at her watch and straightened. “Shit, how did it get that late already? Yes, thanks, Ben.”

“Well, I think that’s my sign I should be getting back to the store,” I said. “Thanks for the coffee, and the pep talk.” I downed the last of my drink and headed toward the door, standing aside to let the rush of customers enter. Being trampled by caffeine addicts desperate for their hit was not on my bingo card for this year.

My step was lighter as I walked back to Sapphire Blooms. It felt good to finally talk to someone about Roz. Now I’d gotten that off my chest, maybe I’d be able to move on from this weekend and focus on what really mattered—Friday’s wedding and finding someone who actually wanted to spend time with me.

CHAPTERTWENTY-EIGHT

ROZ

I steppedout onto the back deck of my house, coffee in hand. The rain had finally stopped on Sunday night, and Monday and Tuesday had been gloriously warm. I scanned the scene in front of me. Ronnie was in the petting zoo, preparing for the farm to open. Thelma and Louise had their heads low to the ground, munching on grass in their pasture. There was no sign of anyone else.

My eyes dropped to the railing where Olivia and I had stood, gazing over fields, an arm around each other only days ago, moments before Fred appeared. My heart twinged. I clenched my jaw, forcing my eyes back up.

I should be in a better mood. Fred had agreed to invest in the farm. According to Dana, the rain followed by the warmer weather would be fantastic for all our crops. And the stress of fake-dating was now behind us.Us. My chest tightened. I took a sip of my coffee. It tasted bitter in comparison to the coffee Olivia had made on Sunday. I sighed. Why did all my thoughts keep circling back to Olivia? It wasn’t healthy.

I gulped down another mouthful of the disappointing brew and walked down the steps. Some fresh air and a brisk walk would do me good. As I passed their field, Thelma and Louise ambled over.

One of them—I was pretty sure it was Thelma—let out a mellow moo. I tilted my head and stared at her. She looked back at me, her brown eyes soft. Surprised, I stepped closer to her.

“Moo to you too.” I tentatively reached out like I’d seen Ronnie do a thousand times and gave her long, slow strokes down her neck and shoulders. She leaned toward me, her tail swaying. “You like that, do you?”

Thelma—I was confident it was her now; she was giving me distinct Thelma vibes—gave me a lick, her sandpaper-like tongue swiping my hand.

I chuckled. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

I wish Olivia was here to witness this.My smile faded.

Louise nudged at Thelma, trying to get her head in between my hand and Thelma’s body. “Okay, okay.” I lifted my other hand, and began stroking them simultaneously. The rhythmic movement of my hands was surprisingly soothing.

“I don’t know what to do about Olivia,” I murmured.

Their large soulful eyes calmed me a little, but no answers were forthcoming.

With a sigh, I gave them a parting pat and continued on past the petting zoo. When I reached the corn fields, I blinked in amazement. The green corn shoots sprouting out of the earth seemed to have doubled in size since I’d seen them on Friday. Dana had been right about the weather causing a growth spurt.

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