“Most likely.”
“Good. This is good.” In much higher spirits, she speared a meatball and popped it in her mouth. “Thank you. For inviting me to the party.”
She smiled at him, and Nick’s stomach twisted.
“No problem.”
Of course, he not only lived down the hall from Lily, but now he’d agreed to set her up with someone else, because that was the best thing for both of them.
It might just kill him in the process, though. The universe could fuck all the way off.
7
Flowers had been the scent of Lily’s childhood. And the peaceful, aesthetically pleasing environment of Greenehouse Florist and Nursery in Willow Ridge, New Jersey, had been the constant backdrop of her life. She’d spent many evenings here after school, her nose stuck in a book while her parents worked. Some of Lily’s earliest memories were of sitting beside her mom as she made flower arrangements. These many years later, Greenehouse was still one of Lily’s favorite places to be.
Except during wedding season. Because then everything was complete chaos.
“Where are the peonies?” Lily’s mother, Dahlia, called, rushing down the aisle, rows and rows of plants and flowers on either side of her. Like the rest of the Greene women, Dahlia was petite with thick, curly hair. Although at the moment her hair was tied up in a topknot, and instead of her go-to A-line dresses and sandals, she was wearing a T-shirt and jeans, both smudged with soil.
“I have them here,” Lily said at the counter, filling tall cylinder vases with white peonies and pink roses for centerpieces. She pricked her finger on a thorn, but she was moving so quickly, she didn’t even wince. She’d move faster if she were dressed in something more comfortable. Her feet ached in the heels she’d put on this morning for the EmpoWOMENt career seminar she’d attended with Dahlia. Lily glanced down at her light pink button-up and groaned. She’d smeared soil on her collar somehow. This was one of the few nice blouses she owned. She’d bought it on sale at Zara.
Dahlia appeared at Lily’s side and observed her work. “Looking good. But make sure you surround the peonies with the roses, not the other way around.” She gave Lily’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Benjamin, how’s that bouquet coming?” she asked, bustling over to Lily’s father, who sat several feet behind Lily in the shop’s office. He held up the bouquet, which looked pretty decent to Lily, but Dahlia frowned and began rearranging the flowers. Benjamin leaned his tall frame backward in the chair and used the hem of his shirt to clean his glasses’ lenses, smiling ruefully as Dahlia amended his work. He caught eyes with Lily and winked. They were definitely not the perfectionists of the Greene family and were often subject to Dahlia’s gentle corrections. And unfortunately, the EmpoWOMENt seminar hadn’t gone as successfully for Lily as Dahlia may have hoped.
It had been pretty typical as far as career seminars went. Women who were in powerful positions at various companies spoke about how they’d climbed the corporate ladder. There’d been a networking hour afterward, and before disappearing to chat with her Alpha Kappa Alpha sorority sisters from Brown, Dahlia had encouraged Lily to introduce herself and get some business cards. Lily didn’t see the point in speaking with women who worked in tech and engineering and accounting, when it had nothing to do with editing books, but for Dahlia’s sake, she’d agreed to try. However, before Lily gathered the nerve to approach anyone, Edith had texted her in a frenzy because she’d discovered that their production manager, Brian, was leaving the company next month, and his replacement would be an employee who was transferring from M&M’s UK office. Edith was furious that （1） Brian was leaving. She hated change and new people. And （2） not only would she have to work with a new person, but they’d be coming from an entirely different country. She wanted to know how different the production process might be at the UK office. What if this new person took too long to acclimate and the imprint’s production schedule suffered? This only further supported her conspiracy theory that the president of their division was planning to shutter the imprint soon. Edith found this so stressful that she was unable to rest on her Saturday afternoon, and therefore Lily couldn’t rest either.
Needless to say, Lily had stood in the corner, placating Edith and her irrational fears via text for the remainder of the seminar. She hadn’t done any networking or received a single business card.
She’d felt so bad for disappointing Dahlia that she’d offered to help out at the shop. Her parents were preparing a last-minute order for a wedding a few towns away in Somerset. Apparently, the original florist backed out because they’d gotten into a physical fight with the bride. Wedding season was no joke.