“You did this?” Devin’s eyes widen in astonishment.
“To say sorry for earlier,” I say.
Devin’s expression softens as he looks between me and the flowers. He shakes his head. “No woman has ever given me flowers before.”
“Besides Mom,” Perry says, correcting him.
“Right, but she doesn’t count. Cass, these are beautiful.” Gathering my face in his hands, he plants a kiss against my nose. “You’re a natural.”
“That’s what I said. If the whole lawyer thing doesn’t work out, you should consider a career as a florist. Or some kind of creative endeavor. Maybe painting?” Perry says softly. Our gazes connect for half a heartbeat before he looks away, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, I should probably go deliver these.” On the far side of the room, he scoops up the tissue paper–wrapped bouquets and balances one on either side of his slim waist.
“Do you need my help?” Devin asks.
“I got this. You guys have fun. Can you swing by in the morning to help me with the Leifkowitz wedding though? I still need to work up their invoice. Plus, I could use some help with the latest paperwork that came in from the state.”
“You got it, bro.”
With a nod, Perry strides across the room.
“Bye,” I call when he’s nearly at the door. “Thanks again for the lesson.”
Pausing, he grins at me over his shoulder, but there’s a hint of resignation behind his vivid eyes. “Anytime.”
When the door clicks closed, Devin settles onto the metal stool and crosses his arms over his broad chest, legs spread wide. “Okay, you wanted to talk, so let’s talk.”
“Devin, I’m sorry about earlier. I shouldn’t have—”
“Stop.” He raises his palm. “Cass, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have surprised you with a car like that. I was overreaching. And then getting mad at you when you reasonably said ‘thanks but no thanks’？” He shakes his head. “I’m an idiot, and I’m sorry. Can you forgive me?”
Stepping between his legs, I circle my arms around his neck. “Only if you forgive me.”
He sweeps a kiss against my lips. “Of course I do. Next time, we’ll decide if and when you’ll drive—together. I won’t push you into it. Just know I’m here and ready to help whenever you get up the courage to try.”
My insides bristle at the inference that my refusal to get behind the wheel has to do with a lack of courage rather than debilitating anxiety I can’t control. But we’ve already been in one fight today. Mincing words wouldn’t be productive at this point, and I understand what he’s really offering is help and support.
“Can I take you to dinner tonight?” he asks.
My stomach rumbles as if on cue. “Only if I can pay this time.” Devin’s paid for my meal the last two times we’ve been out, so it’s most definitely my turn. This also feels like a good time to remind him that I’m fully capable of taking care of myself—which includes paying for meals.
Plus, it’ll help me feel better about putting this afternoon behind us and simply enjoying our evening together. I hope.
“Mmm, this is delicious,” I say to Devin. My lips tingle as I savor the explosion of spicy peppers and carnitas on my tongue. Swallowing, I wipe my mouth with a napkin. Conversations crest around us, filling the colorful tapas restaurant, while the wail of a trumpet accompanies the rhythmic notes of conga drums. I cross my legs under the bar, careful not to bump the woman sitting inches away from me. “I’m glad you talked me into the taco sampler.”
Devin grins. “You can’t go wrong with a sampler.”
A bartender with a neatly trimmed mustache bustles over holding two glasses of champagne. “Here you are.” He sets them in front of us.
“Thank you.” Devin slides a twenty across the bar, picks up the glasses, and hands one to me.
“What’s this for?”
“Surviving our first fight.”
“I don’t know if I’d call it a fight. More like a mutual misunderstanding.”
“Still worth celebrating. I’ve been in relationships where misunderstandings turn into full-blown arguments pretty quickly, so I say we handled ourselves well.”
“Yes, we did.” I lift my glass.
“Cheers.” We clink, and I take a sip. Bubbles tickle my nose as the crisp, effervescent liquid slides down my throat. Something Perry said the other week niggles at the back of my mind, and I put down my champagne.