Whatever softening effect Hannah’s had on me doesn’t apply to her. I’m suddenly cold and hard again, showing nothing, ready for anything. I don’t answer, other than to flick my brow in question.
It makes her nervous, and she backs out and cozies right up to Hannah. “What’s with Guido?” I hear her murmur.
Hannah shoots a frightened glance at me, and I instantly prickle with irritation although I can’t put my finger on why. I guess I don’t like seeing that look on Hannah’s face, even when I’m the cause of it. “That’s, ah, Armando,” Hannah answers. “He’s hanging out today.”
“Why?” the woman demands. I can’t tell if she works here or is just a friend. Possibly both.
“Armando, this is Josie,” Hannah says in a louder voice. “She works here.”
I glance at the clock. The shop opened at noon. It’s 1:45 now. What time was she supposed to be here?
“Oh my God, were you not able to make the rent?” Josie whispers.
Hannah flicks another worried glance my way. “Not quite, but it’s okay, I have things worked out for this month.”
“What does that mean?”
Hannah just shakes her head. “Can you handle the counter?”
Josie gives her a searching look, but when Hannah ignores it, she says, “Of course.”
Hannah buzzes past me and goes to her workbench. She pulls out a vase and two spools of ribbon. Now, she finally has focus. I realize she was waiting for someone to run the front desk, so she could get busy with the arrangements. I probably could have kept an eye on things. It’s telling that she didn’t ask me. I think she pretends to be more comfortable with me than she really is.
A stab of guilt shoots through me. The same shame I felt last night thinking she might believe she has to fuck me to stay alive.
Is she that good of an actress?
No. I don’t think so. She’s into it. Her body can’t lie. She’s not resisting me. Although…am I giving her much of a choice?
Hannah looks calm and confident, assembling buckets of flowers at her feet from the cooler. Where she might be a deer in the headlights when it comes to her books, here at the workbench, she’s a goddamn wizard. Her movements are swift and sure as she fills it with a perky bouquet of colorful flowers and wraps a red and white ribbon around a vase. I don’t even know what kind they are—orchids maybe? Something exotic and surprising. There’s nothing cliche about the arrangement.
And then it hits me. “Is that supposed to be a barber’s pole?”
She steps back, examining her work with a critical eye. “Yes.”
Genius. Her talent as a designer is fucking off the charts.
“Did Rocco ask for flowers?” Funny, I can’t see it.
“No. But he’s getting them. I was thinking about what you said. About making new connections. You’re right—I don’t have any. And the only one Mary Alice had that still works for me is Rocco’s. So I figure I should keep that wheel greased. From now on, Rocco’s going to have fresh flowers at his place with a stack of my cards beside them.”
“Smart thinking.” I want to go over with her—watch how it goes down. I don’t know if it’s to protect her from the guys who might be over there or to stake my claim, but it doesn’t matter because I can’t.
Best way to protect Hannah is to never connect the two of us.
I gotta sit in the back of her shop like a fucking pansy, hiding from God knows who.
This is bullshit.
“You didn’t tell me you had a staff person coming in today.” I glance over at Josie who doesn’t seem to be doing anything other than picking at her manicured nail and yawning as she does so.
“Her schedule can be…fluid,” Hannah says, still focused on arranging.
She pulls another vase down and makes a bigger, showier arrangement in it. It’s two feet tall and stunning.
“Who’s that for?” I ask.
She nibbles her lip. “There’s a hotel a couple blocks from here.” She shrugs. “Maybe I’ll go introduce myself. You know, in case they need flowers for events. Or could recommend me to the event-planners.”
