Page 3 of A Future in Blossom

JAIME HARPER

Five months ago, when Jaime left New York City behind to return to Sunrise, she would’ve bet money that she’d never see Liam McMillan again. He told her otherwise, but she didn’t believe him. Why should she? There’d been so much about Liam that turned out to be smoke and mirrors, not unlike Chris Reid’s magician tricks. Liam had eschewed his humble Southern roots and taken on a Scottish persona.

Totally fake. Totally successful.

Liam McMillan was considered one of the fastest-rising stars in the wedding world. Just this past year,Martha Stewart Weddings, Vogue, andBridesmagazines had named Liam’s company, Epic Events, as a top wedding vendor in the entire country.

Jaime had bought into Liam’s facade like the rest of the world. She’d even fallen head over heels for him—her boss and mentor!Until it all shattered on that day when she overheard him on the phone with his Kentucky grandmother. There was no mistaking his origins after that moment. Liam McMillan was a big fat lie.

And yet Jaime, knowing all of this, thought of almost nothing but Liam. She couldn’t stop herself from replaying memories of him or tracking him on social media. Couldn’t stop checking her phone ten times a day, hoping he would text or call or email. No sir, not a single peep in five months.

She was thankful for the heavy workload she’d stepped into at Rose’s Flower Shop because it kept her busy and distracted. It helped to keep a lid on her annoying preoccupation with Liam.

Last night, Jaime had worked late into the night to prepare table arrangements for a favorite customer’s meet-the-boyfriend tea party. It was a Southern tradition. When a young woman’s gentleman caller came to town to meet the parents, her mama would host an innocuous tea party for friends and family to check the young man out. Those poor fellas had no idea what they were getting themselves into.

Jaime had already delivered the arrangements, stopped for a cup of coffee, and was heading to the flower shop to clean up her mess before it opened this morning. The last thing she’d expected was to find Liam McMillan waiting in front of the locked door. About ten feet away from the shop, she froze. She couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe.

“Hello, Jaime.”

Her mind was spinning fast, but words were stuck in her throat. Liam looked as gorgeous as ever. Heart-stopping handsome. Freshly shaved, he’d had a recent haircut, and was dressed in his typical casual-but-expensive clothing. She fought back an impulsive desire to launch herself into his arms and kiss him right on the lips.No ma’am, she told herself.You will not.

“Yer lookin’ bonnie.”

So ... he was still playing the Scottish Liam. And no, no, she really wasn’t looking bonnie. Certainly not at this moment, anyway.She hadn’t planned to see anyone this morning. Claire was scheduled to open the shop at ten, so Jaime had dressed in yoga pants and an oversized sweatshirt. No makeup. Hair pulled in a high side pony. She was nowhere near bonnie looking! These were the thoughts that were flying through her head.

He tipped his head. “Have you nothing t’ say? Or”—he paused—“maybe ’tis the accent?” His expression softened, imploring. “I won’t be two-faced with you. It truly comes naturally now, even with Meemaw.”

Imagining his granny’s reaction, Jaime couldn’t help but smile. But that faded quickly as her thoughts bunched up in her mind like a traffic jam.Why haven’t you bothered to get in touch with me? Didn’t you missme? Don’t I matter to you at all?She let out a breath. “I ... certainly didn’t expect to see you.”

“This morning? Or ever?”

“Not ever.” She cleared her throat. “I’ve never heard from ... anyone at Epic.”

“Ah, I suppose it’s the New York City way. Everyone’s totally consumed with what’s right in front of ’em. Putting out fires, all the time.”

In other words, “out of sight, out of mind.” Jaime tried to pretend his casual dismissal didn’t bother her ... but it did. It really, really did.

“This year’s wedding season was a marathon. ’Twas Epic Events’ biggest year.”

If he was telling her that to make her feel guilty, she already did. She had left Epic without giving two weeks’ notice just as peak season began, and she still felt the sting of guilt. She just couldn’t stay in New York City after the disastrous Zimmerman wedding. Rose’s letter, asking her to come back to Sunrise, tipped the scales for her.

A cool breeze swirled around them, shaking her out of her daze. “Why don’t you come in? I’ll make some fresh coffee.”

“I’d like that.” He smiled. “To tell the truth, I’d prefer tea.”

Right, right. She’d forgotten that he wasn’t a coffee drinker, being Scottish and all. She tried not to roll her eyes.

He followed her to the workshop, which had been left in such a state. “I had to work late last night. I was just coming in to clean up.”

As she flipped on the lights and turned on the heat, he poked around the workshop. “I see you’ve employed the same organization that we had at Epic.”

In the middle of filling the electric kettle with water for tea, she stopped to look up. He was right. She had learned so much during her time in New York City, especially from working with him. He had helped her create the Epic workshop to maximize efficiency and minimize waste, and she’d brought those design concepts back to Rose’s. Happily, Rose had given her a free hand—a significant change from when Jaime was working here in high school. Back then, Rose had a strict protocol for the workshop—keep everything where she, and she alone, had put it. The organization made sense to Rose but no one else. The improved workshop was now ready for anyone to step in and find what they needed. “I suppose my time at Epic is now part of me.”

He gazed at her with a look she couldn’t quite discern. “Aye. I understand how that can happen.”

The kettle clicked off, so Jaime poured hot water into a cup with a teabag and handed it to him. “So what brings you here?”

He sat down on a stool to drink his tea. “A destination weddin’.”

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