“But the rest of the idea… that was all you?” he presses.
“Um, well, yeah.”
“Damn,” he breathes. His lips tilt into a wry smile as he assesses me.
I resist the urge to fidget under the intensity of his gaze. “So? What do you think?”
“I think you’re the most impressive woman I’ve ever met.” His voice is so low I’m not sure at first whether I heard him correctly. But then he winks and takes a long swig of beer. “But I don’t think the festival will work.”
“Why not?” I splutter.
“First of all, I don’t have enough flowers.”
“What about your greenhouse?”
“Even if I emptied it, I still wouldn’t have enough stock on hand to accommodate so many customers.”
“Can you place an extra order from that one nursery you told me about?”
“Maybe. I’ll have to talk to the owners to see what they can do. And maybe a few other plant nurseries in the area too. But even if I could get my hands on enough flowers, there’s the matter of cost. I’d need to purchase everything in advance, on credit, and if the festival flops and no one buys my flowers, I’d lose money. It’s a risk. Not to mention I’d need help arranging all of the flowers once I bring them in. I have Alma, my part-time florist, but she’s not enough. The flowers would need to be prepped and arranged within a few days of the event so they’re fresh, and I don’t have the manpower to tackle such a big job on such a tight time frame.”
“You have me. I’d be happy to help. You were the one who said I was a natural at flower arranging, remember?”
“I did say that, didn’t I?”
“And Devin would help too, I’m sure of it—he’d do anything to make it up to you. So would Brie and Marcus.”
Perry’s jaw muscles tense, a flicker of anger resurfacing at the mention of Devin. I quickly shift gears. “What if you sourced potted plants to sell in addition to bouquets? People love a nice perennial, and potted plants don’t require arranging—just watering.”
“That’s not a bad idea. It would help cut down on the prep time, for sure.”
“Okay, so assuming you’re able to get the flowers and the plants and the help you need—do you think we could find enough vendors in time? I know it’s a lot of pressure, but Devin said he’d talk to local businesses for you, and I’m happy to make calls, chase down leads, whatever you need. Do you know enough local artists who might be interested in signing on to make it worthwhile?”
“I know artists, weavers, knitters, candle makers, glassblowers, wood carvers—you name it.” He laughs. “Most of the local makers whose work I sell in the store would probably be interested—a lot of them routinely sell their products at festivals—so that’s well over a dozen vendors right there.”
“There you go. No more reasons not to take the plunge.” I spread my arms out wide.
“Sometimes I forget you’re a lawyer. It’s hard to argue with you.”
“Exactly. So why even bother?”
Perry laughs then, and the sound washes over me like melted caramel. After a long moment, he quiets, his expression turning serious. “Why are you helping me?”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“Apart from your big-time law career and general lack of free time?”
My gut tenses. How am I going to juggle this festival with my job at Smith & Boone? I only have six more weeks left in my summer associateship, and if I want them to invite me to stay on permanently, I can’t slack now… but heck, I survived law school. Even if it means less sleep for a few weeks—and no painting—I can do it. I wave him away. “Pshh. You let me worry about that.”
“I know you’re with Devin, but you don’t owe this to him. Or me. Or anyone. I hope you don’t feel obligated to help.”
“Actually, Devin and I aren’t together anymore,” I say primly, not quite meeting his eyes.
He goes very still. “You’re not?”
“I ended things about an hour ago. We’re on a break… an indefinite break.”
“I see,” he murmurs, expression unreadable.
My thighs threaten to sweat and I shift uncomfortably on my stool. “Anyways…” I clap. The sound pierces through the quiet apartment, and The Colonel wakes up with a snort. “So what do you say—is next month’s first-annual Ohio City Flower & Beer Festival a go?”