Love Me: The Complete Series (28 page)

She’d have to break the news soon so Caroline could start job searching before they closed the doors. God, she hated to let her friend down. How could she hurt the only person to stand by her during the trip down fantasy-lane?

Correction, Carter had been somewhat supportive. He needed to work out his issues though—and they seemed larger than hers, or at least deeper. She sighed. Yet another sign of how miserably she’d managed to this point. Ruckus let out a sympathetic whimper at her side and she dropped a hand to pat his head.

“You’re kind of lost too, aren’t you, bud? Why’d Maddie have to get all sick and leave you with me, right? Sorry, boy. It doesn’t look like I’m too good at taking care of much right now. A business, a friendship, a guy—or a dog. She wanted to leave you with Carter, but he’s gone a lot right now so you’re stuck with me. I promise I won’t let you down though. I may not be able to keep the shop running, but don’t you worry. You’re going to be okay.”

She turned back to the computer and focused on her nonexistent cash flow.

Whoosh.
The stockroom door blew open. Ruckus blurted a short bark at the interruption.

“You want to come take a look at something?” Caroline asked.

Abby waved without turning focus away from the dismal numbers. “Can’t. Busy.”

“Yeah, well, so am I, dammit. Get your ass out here and help some of these people.” The door clamored closed behind Caroline.

People? As in more than one? Maybe two? Why couldn’t she handle a couple of customers on her own? Jesus, had they been slow so long two people in the store constituted a rush?

The wheels on Abby’s chair screeched as she slid the chair back and looked through the glass.

At no less than twenty people.

She blinked.

The crowd hadn’t disappeared.

She rubbed her eyes.

Yep. Still there.

Holy cow.

More than two or three customers? Was there something going on outside that brought them in? She attempted to see to the street for a commotion but damned if the crowd blocked her view. She grinned and followed Caroline’s order.

A nice-looking man in a business suit caught her before she was three steps from the door. “Hi, I’d like to do the BFB. Is there a sign up form? Do you have a catalog or a brochure I can choose from?” He seemed incredibly tense and impatient. Perhaps a control-freak not interested in waiting his turn? Abby could relate if she had a clue what he meant.

Huh, what? BFB?

Caroline overheard from the counter. “I can get that for you. We don’t have a catalogue yet—still working on that. We have samples throughout the store and can make just about anything. Basically, what you do is give us the kind of things you think she’d like and we keep track. You pick the dates you need them and tell us whether you want them delivered by us or you. If you want to deliver them, we can take them to you at the location of your choice if necessary … or you can pick them up in the store. How does that sound?” The smile on Caroline’s face transformed her.

Abby needed to know what this BFB thing was and how to make it—especially if it had the potential to be in big demand. Had she sold something else Abby couldn’t provide, like the catering?

The man returned Caroline’s smile and the tension in his shoulders seemed to settle. “Sounds great.” He joined her at the counter and she pulled out an order slip to write down information.

Another customer caught Abby with questions about plants and within a few minutes, she had sold three and carried them to her car. Shortly after they worked out a system—Caroline manned the counter while Abby flitted around the store answering questions and carrying items to her for tallying.

Then two other customers requested the apparently famous BFB package, which she still didn’t understand and confusion overcame the short-term business success. She sidled up to Caroline after another young man left with a receipt. “Enlighten me, what exactly is a BFB package?”

Caroline slipped the paper in a manila folder along with the other orders, closed the flap, and leveled eyes to Abby. “Best Flower Budget. It’s on our blog. Basically, a guy—or girl—comes in and tells us their budget for the year. Then we schedule a series of arrangements so they’re delivered on the right dates for that person. You know, anniversary, birthday, Valentine’s. Then we give the customer three to four more. Those are the special ones to be used for the ‘just because’ days. Or maybe an ‘I’m sorry’ day. They pay a one-time fee and we take care of it all. It’s in the blog. I had no idea people would think it a big deal.”

“So, basically, it’s a subscription service for flowers? They pay for us to deliver throughout the year, right?”

Caroline winked. “Brilliant, huh? Pay for it now … and the flowers keep showing up for your loved one for months. She gets the special treatment and he stays out of the dog house and never forgets. We just have to stay on top of the schedule, which should be no problem since you’re kind of anal about organization.”

“Wow, you thought that up?” Abby threw her arms around Caroline and hugged her. “You are—amazing. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

She shrugged out of the squeeze. “If you keep strangling me, you’ll find out real quick.”

Abby dropped her arms and stepped away. The knot around her stomach loosened a bit and she pivoted to help more customers, relieved there were more. A subscription service! What a fabulous idea! In fact, she knew exactly what types of things she’d recommend. Her mind churned out a few of her favorite arrangements. They needed a catalogue, of course. She had a high definition camera at home. She’d start making up samples when things slowed down.

Caroline could post the pictures on their website or blog—or wherever she’d done her magic. Which led to another question. What else had she put out there that might lead to more customers—or more problems? Abby shook that thought away. She wasn’t ready to burst the bubble at the moment. Plenty of time for that later.

By the time Abby turned the sign on the door to closed and reached to set the bolt, she was exhausted. There had been a steady stream of customers the entire afternoon and, while the business was a godsend, her stamina and energy were waning. She missed her evening runs through the park.

“Ahem.” A deep voice startled her and she searched the room. Had they missed a customer? With the lights dimmed, she searched the room. Nothing.

“Caroline?”

No sign of the recognizable spikes over the shelves.

“It’s me, Roger. Had you forgotten I was coming by?”

Cripes.
She practically jumped out of her skin when he stepped from the darkness of the shelves. And yes, dammit, she’d forgotten all about asking him to stop in before closing for his
sit-down
with Caroline. She darted a glance toward the lights that seeped from the door of the stockroom. After their tiresome day, was her friend up to a confrontation?

Duh, stupid thought. Caroline was
always
up for that.

“Hey, Gandhi!” she called out. “You have another customer.”

Caroline’s voice responded with masked impatience. “Would you mind taking care of it? I’m trying to get that last shipment unboxed.”

Abby swallowed her mirth, knowing if she knew who waited, the pleasantries would have disappeared.

“I’ll take the boxes for you. This one asked for you by name.” She swung the door open and held it wide. Making a sweep of her arm toward the darkened store, Abby waited for Caroline to exit before stepping to finish her task.

As much as she wanted to spy on the two when she was done, she escaped out the back door. Good for them. They were talking. About what was the big question. Oh, yeah. They had history—she wondered if that meant one of them would be teaching the other a history lesson before the night was over.

“A true test of a man’s character is what he does when no one was watching.” Wasn’t that what Dad said over and over during Carter’s teen years? It was a quote from someone famous but he didn’t know who.

He looked out the airplane window as the pilot started their descent. The sun blinded him over the horizon. Nice outside and thanks to the time change, he arrived mid-morning. He was ready to get home. Should he make a trip out to his mom’s before Monday? Since she was obviously mobile, it wasn’t necessary. Besides, she had the good doctor now. There had been a time when he couldn’t picture his mom ever getting involved with a man other than his father. He’d thought it would bother him, but it hadn’t. Just the opposite. In fact, it was a comfort to know she wasn’t alone and had someone to keep tabs on her health daily. Maybe he shouldn’t go.

He had a pile of work in his briefcase that would take hours to sort out.

On the other hand, the bluebonnets were probably still in bloom. God, that had been a sight to see, all that blue laid out over the hillside like a carpet.
Yeah, just like that mish-mash of color that blanketed my living room two weeks ago.

Then there was the smell. Abby had given it the kind word of scent—to him it was more of a stench. Still, she’d looked like a movie star sitting amongst them. Shit, it had been cute the way she tried to avoid smashing the blooming weeds.

The wheels of the plane hit the tarmac and the thrusters sucked the plane slowly to a roll. He shot a look skyward, appreciating that this pilot had made a smooth landing. No bumps, just a soft touch and roll. He hated it when they hit hard. Or bounced.

Should he call Roger and let him know he was on the ground? Nah, he was having “a talk” with Abby’s friend Caroline. No need to interrupt a brewing volcano.

Speaking of Caroline, had she posted anything new on that famous blog of theirs? He could have slapped those spikes right out of her hair had he seen her before he left. Good thing he wasn’t there when she showed for the weekly maintenance. What a nosy-Nancy, splashing his business all over the Internet for the
entire world
to see. Jesus. Had she known what happened after? The only people that
hadn’t
shown up at his door were news crews. Thank God. Maybe he should send her a cleaning bill for the time it had taken to get rid of the damn things and clean all the petals and leaves from the floor.

Okay, maybe not
all
of them. He had decided to keep the lavender since it was still alive. Maybe. He’d been gone a while. Hopefully it hadn’t died from neglect. Then there were the daisies Trent put into a jar and tied a string around. How could he throw that away when the kid showed up all smiles and snivels? Shit, it had been sweet the way he beamed at his effort to create the perfect bouquet for Carter’s mom.

Crap.

Had he killed the daisies? The kid would be hurt if he didn’t deliver them. Thirty minutes later Carter crammed his luggage in the backseat of his car and slid onto the driver’s seat. He’d have to be quick, but he wasn’t letting Trent down. He’d run through the driveway, stop at his place, and grab the weeds—even if they were half-dead—and deliver them.

The entire plan hit a huge speed bump when Trent rolled up on a bicycle the minute he drove up.

“So, what did she say when you gave ’em to her? She liked them, right? My mom says they’re the most beautiful daisies in the state. And she loves the string—makes it even more special. Your mom liked them, didn’t she?”

Carter hadn’t even stepped out of the car yet. The Band-Aid that had hung from Trent’s chin a while back was gone, replaced with something red and wet. Kool-Aid drips? No, parents didn’t do that anymore—not healthy. It was likely some sort of juice. Carter reached out with his thumb and flicked it away. A new bandage was wrapped around the back of Trent’s elbow—from a bike spill? Judging by the number of dents, yep.

Telling him he hadn’t done it yet would crush the boy and, for some reason, those wide eyes just didn’t deserve to be crushed yet. That would come in time, very likely from his first girlfriend. Not today.

“She thought they were awesome. And you were right about that jar and the ribbon you tied around them. Nice touch. In fact, she told me to bring more next time.” Okay, so calling the dirty string a ribbon was a stretch, but it sounded good.

Trent’s eyes crinkled into a big grin. Holy shit, he’d lost a tooth while Carter was gone! Damned if that didn’t warm him further. The boy held up a finger. “Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be right back. I can’t take too many though, ’cause Mom said I’ll kill it if I don’t leave some. Right back, okay?”

Carter nodded. “Right back.” Perfect. Now he wouldn’t have to deliver the dead ones at all. Sure, he’d lied to the kid about delivering them but only to keep from upsetting him. The fresh ones would be delivered as promised, and all would be well. He stopped four feet from the door. A pile of mail the size of a basketball lay below the box, obviously the ones that wouldn’t fit. The box was stuffed to the rim. Various envelopes in random sizes and colors were mixed in with the normal junk mail. Cards?

He hated cards about as much as he hated flowers.

“Just great.”

• • •

His mother greeted him at her back door. Her face broke into a grin as he approached with the jar of daisy stalks, and she dropped a hand to her hip. “Well that sure brings back some ancient memories. The last time I saw something like that, you were in grade school.”

“Well, these are from a kid down the street from me. He wanted you to have them.” He thrust the jar her way and dropped a peck on her cheek. “He picked them himself.”

“Now that’s a sweet thing to do. Why?”

“Because he said he always gives them to his mom on her birthday and said I should do that.”

Carter followed her into the house as she deposited them in the window over the sink.

“It’s not my birthday.”

“I know, but when he asked if we did that, I told him no because I didn’t have any. Being the helpful little guy he was, he rounded me up a bunch. Who was I to let him down by not delivering?”

That sparked a good laugh. After a couple hours of stilted conversation, a nice dinner she prepared while they talked, and a glass of tea on the back porch, Carter was ready to go back to the city.