Page 114 of The Secret
“Right.”
“Or, your boyfriend’s mother was so worried about Constantine that she had his brother google ‘Bloom’ in Baxter, New York, since apparently you let it slip that’s where you were from, and she contacted me at work, and I contacted Lauren and Leandra, and the four of us devised a plan to make it so that you and Constantine were in the same room at the same time, since you’re a pair of idiots who hate talking about shit.” He nibbled at the cookie once again. “Honestly, doesn’tcoincidencesound most likely?”
“I sincerely hope that someone comes along and interferes in your love life someday,” I said sourly.
The bell on the front door jangled like the thing was being torn off its hinges, and Constantine came storming back inside, blue eyes blazing. He ignored his mother, he ignored his brother, and instead, he came directly to me, and stood looming over me.
“What the actual—” He glanced around the packed room. “The actualflipping heckwere you thinking, Micah Bloom?”
“Thinking?” I blinked. “About what?”
He searched the ceiling—with its multitude of colored hearts—for patience. “You know what? We need to talk. We’re leaving.” He grabbed me by the arm, and hauled me from my seat, snagging the remains of the heart-shaped cookie off my plate and cramming it in his mouth.
“Where are we going?” I asked as he towed me out the door.
He shook his head. “No questions. This time, Micah, you’re going to be quiet and followme.”
And since I would have followed the man anywhere, that’s exactly what I did.
Chapter Seventeen
Constantine
I didn’t havea clear plan in mind when I dragged Micah down the street, other than finding a place where I could raise my voice without giving all of O’Leary a free show—okay, fine,moreof a free show than me hauling my forty-year-old, possibly-former boyfriend down the street by his hand, in broad daylight, without his jacket already presented—but when I spotted the rainbow flag hanging outside Blooms, I realized where I’d been unconsciously heading the whole time.
The door was unlocked when I pushed it open, and the sight inside nearly made me cry. There were a variety of little plants—pothos and kalanchoe and tiny succulents in pots—arranged on the tables out front, but the refrigerator cases were nearly empty when they should have held a whole variety of pre-made bouquets and arrangements. I felt my gut clench nearly as much as I had when I’d taken the call from Tyler a few minutes ago.
Tyler and I had texted a bunch after our first meeting at The Hive—nothing remotely flirtatious, just fun, friendly riffs on our love lives. It had totally slipped my mind that he’d be in town over Valentine’s Day for his sister’s wedding until his name had come up on my phone back at the bakery, and I’d had a single, beautiful second of wondering whether Tyler could be just the distraction I needed from Micah “I’m just here for coffee” Bloom…
Until Tyler had opened his mouth and explained that his sister Marissa was freaking out because her Valentine’s Day-themed wedding—the wedding of the year, the one my mother had been so pissed to lose to Micah last spring—was going to beflowerless, and that Micah had called her this morning to say he wasn’t going to be able to supply her flowers for the wedding after all.
I dragged Micah through the back room, where Belle was constructing an arrangement out of some sorry-looking carnations, and up the stairs to his apartment.
“Great job, Belle. Be back in a bit,” Micah called over his shoulder without slowing down.
When we got upstairs, Micah unlocked his apartment door and pushed it open, letting me precede him into the tiny kitchen.
The usually-tidy space was a wreck by Micah-standards. The sink was cluttered with dishes and the recycling bin overflowed with takeout containers. Sitting on top was a familiar ice cream carton—the same, exact caramel flavor I’d eaten my weight in this week—and I felt a stirring of sympathy, because this week really hadn’t been any easier for Micah than it had been for me.
Then I thought of Tyler, and ruthlessly suppressed it.
I whirled around to face him. “Why didn’t you tell me about HG Supply being shitty to you?” I demanded.
“Oh, that.” He turned and shut the door.
“Yes,that.” I squinted at him. “What did youthinkI wanted to talk to you about?”
“I dunno. I was hoping it was literally anything else.” Micah threw his keys on the counter and ran a hand over his mouth, watching me with those steady green eyes. “I’m kinda tired of thinking about it, honestly.”
I frowned. “Tired of thinking about it? Of thinking about how the Gaynors went to Pat, that weak littleasshole, and got him to fuck you over, since they couldn’t figure out how else to get to you? About how Pat was probably only too happy to do it, since he wants your ass and you clearly haven’t given it to him? About how your reputation will be so shot, after word gets out that you couldn’t meet the terms of the Turnbull wedding contract, that you’ll be lucky if you ever sell another bouquet of daisies, let alone get chosen for an entire wedding?”
Micah rubbed his temples with his fingers. “Such diplomacy. Such sensitivity. Such compassion.”
“Fuck that!” I yelled. “You don’t need compassion or diplomacy or any of that shit. You need some sense knocked into you.”
“And of course, you volunteered. How the hell didyoufind out about it anyway?” he demanded, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the refrigerator. “I hadn’t thought it was a topic of gossip yet.”
“I don’t know if it is or it’s not. Tyler called me, and then I called Charlotte at the Scarlet Maple, and she gave me details.” I pulled myself up to sit on the counter next to the sink, directly across from him.
