Hearts in Bloom by Kelly McCrady Page A

pain.
    Jake finished in the bathroom then stuck his head around the corner from the back. “Hey, sis.”
    “Hey. You missed a real winner earlier, but you’ll get to see the other end of it.”
    “What?”
    “Look in the fridge.” Ivy followed him to the cold case.
    While he raised his eyebrows at the ugly bouquet, she outlined what had transpired. He nodded at her choices. “Subtle.”
    “Hey, if you’re gonna insult with flowers, do it right.”
    They chatted about girls, baseball, and shop supplies over sandwiches at the tiny desk in the back, one ear open for the bell at the front door, in case anyone came in.
    “Should I take these out now?” He lifted his green McVey Gardens baseball cap, scratched shaggy brown locks into disarranged fluff then settled the hat back over them.
    “Sure.  It’s slow today. Lemme know what the reaction is when you hand that one over.”
    He gave her his best cheeky grin then loaded a carton with the flowers for delivery. The noon hour picked up with people coming in on their lunch breaks then slowed again as predicted. Jake returned, collected orders, left again. Apparently, “CJ” hadn’t been present at the address, so Jake had left the flowers with some woman.
    Ivy read to chapter twenty of her novel and was on her way to twenty-one when the door opened, the bells jangling “customer, customer.” She set the e-reader out of sight.
    In strode a sharp-dressed man. ZZ Top and the hawt car with the ‘80s chicks flew around her mind. Six feet of triangle man in button-down white cotton with a slick purple tie over tailored charcoal trousers approached the counter. He lifted Ray Bans off a perfect nose to slam her with hazel eyes seeking answers.
    Will you hop up on the counter and let me do naughty things under your skirt? Why yes, sir, I will. Her heart slammed against her ribs in an uneven staccato and she dropped her gaze from his intensity like an acacia leaf folding before a locust. Drawn by palpable charisma, and trained in customer service, she looked up at him again.
    He displayed beautiful teeth and shook her hand. “Hi. I’m CJ Wilson.”
    Howdy-doo, mysterious CJ. Must be gay; what else about him would get a girl that chuffed? His hand was strong, smooth and warm. Good salesman shake.
    He gestured with a hand at his shoulder height. “Did a blonde come in here today—yea-tall, most of it high heel, angry?”
    “Maybe.”
    “Talked at you rather than to you and had someone on her Bluetooth at the same time?”
    “That would be her.” Ivy cracked a grin. Her pulse returned to normal but interest had been piqued.
    He smiled and assumed an easy posture. “Sorry about that. Business dispute.” His gaze made a quick dash to her breasts then he walked slowly around the small shop. “Is this your only storefront for McVey Gardens?”
    “Yes. We do most of our business with wholesalers through our greenhouses.” Ivy crossed her arms, wishing her florist apron covered her thin T-shirt. He might think it was too cold in here from her reaction to his ogling her boobs. Okay, not gay. But are they acceptable?
    Nodding, he scanned the case full of pre-made bouquets Ivy had assembled before opening, the cut flower display, the potted African violets and cyclamen.
    “Is there something I can help you say with flowers, Mr. Wilson?”
    “Ah, flowers do speak, but few know how to hear them anymore.” Returning to the counter he leaned on the surface with one elbow. “That’s where I might be able to help you.” He produced a business card from his palm as if by magic and offered it to her, pinched between two fingers.
    She accepted the same card she’d seen that morning, which now rested in the recycle box under the counter. It read:
    CJ Wilson
    Marketing consultant
    “What’s your name?” he asked.
    “Ivy.”
    “Do you have a manager, Ivy?”
    “Not in the store, but my mother is the person you’d want to bring any advertising work to.”
    “And who is