“Of course it’s hard. It would be hard for anyone who’d gone through what you went through. It would be terrible to see the guy who broke your heart again. But I thought you wanted to prove to everyone in town that you’re over him.”
“I am over him.”
“I know you are. But no one believes it but me and Madeline. So I thought you wanted to prove it to everyone else.”
“I do.”
“So see him. Talk to him for a little while. Be friendly and casual. Show him that you don’t care about him anymore.”
“I don’t care about him.” Ria sniffed a couple of times.
Skye slanted her a look.
“Okay, fine. Seeing him again kind of roused up all those old feelings. But they’re just memories. We’re different people now. It’s not like I’m hoping we’ll get together again—or that I’d even want that anymore. It’s just hard.” She stared down at the perfectly clean table. “I loved him a lot.”
“I know you did.” Skye was normally a breezy person, but her tone was more sympathetic than usual. “And he hurt you bad. But he seems like he’s trying to mend fences. He’s been nice to folks in town. At least that’s what everyone’s said. He went over to help Marshall Spiro move last night, and he definitely didn’t have to do that. So if you’re really over what happened, you can talk to him and get some real closure.”
“Yeah. You’re right. That would be good.” She nodded, coming to the decision she’d been telling herself was the right one all weekend. “Closure. Okay. Next time I see him, I won’t run away. That’s my plan.”
“What’s your plan?”
The new voice surprised Ria since she hadn’t heard anyone enter the shop. She whirled around and saw her sister Belinda walking into the room. “Nothing.”
Belinda was five years older than Ria. She had the same dark hair and dark eyes as her younger sister, but otherwise the two were nothing alike. Belinda was a CPA, and she’d never been remotely interested in flowers. “Well, it was something, but you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”
“It wasn’t anything important.”
Belinda gave her a quick look. “Jacob?”
Ria nodded. “Yeah.”
“You should just talk to him and get it over with.”
“That’s what Skye was just telling me. I’m going to. Next time I see him, I’ll talk to him. That’s my plan. It will be fine.”
“Of course it will be fine. It’s been years. It’s not like you still have a thing for him.”
The thing about Belinda was that she meant it. Because she was such a no-nonsense and practical person, she assumed everyone else was as well. She would never still be holding on to feelings for a man after eight years, so she couldn’t imagine that Ria might be.
Not that Ria was. Of course not. She was completely over him, and it was time to prove it to the world.
She had a plan now, and she was going to stick to it.
Belinda had been inspecting the finished arrangements in the refrigerated case against the wall. “These look great. They’re all local?”
“Hampton Roads. Fitz should be coming by soon to pick them up for delivery.”
Belinda made a face. “Can’t you find someone more respectable to make deliveries?”
“Fitz has been doing them for years now. No one cares if he’s kind of sloppy.”
“Sloppy? I swear he wears the same pants every single day, and that ridiculous beard has never seen the blades of a pair of scissors.”
Belinda was right. Fitz wasn’t exactly known for sartorial splendor. Or even basic grooming. But Ria liked him anyway. He made her laugh. “We could never find anyone else as cheap as he is.”
“That’s because he lives in someone’s attic.” Belinda was making a face. She’d never cared much for Fitz, but her displeasure was more pronounced than normal. “Why a grown man wants to live like a penniless college student—”
“I live like a college student so I have a few pennies to spend,” Fitz said, strolling into the room with his too-long hair and his untrimmed beard and the same beat-up trousers and army jacket he always wore. Ria had no idea about his age, but her best guess was around forty since he had a few strands of gray in his chestnut-brown hair. He’d shown up in town one day with no explanation or backstory. No one in Azalea had a clue about where he was from or what had happened in his life to make him live this way.
It wasn’t out of necessity. He was smart and articulate when he let other people see it, and he was more than capable of holding down a regular job. He just didn’t seem to want to. He earned the little he needed by making deliveries for them and doing odd jobs. For the past year, she’d also had him do flower pickups at local farms to supplement the flowers she purchased from wholesalers. But other than the odd jobs he did, Fitz spent the rest of his days wandering around and talking to people.
“I’m sorry,” Belinda said, her cheeks flushing. She might be blunt and kind of pushy, but she was also a good-hearted person, and she would never want to talk bad about someone and have them hear. “I didn’t mean—”
“Don’t back down now,” Fitz drawled, raising his bushy eyebrows at her. He had surprisingly pretty eyes, if you could get beyond all the hair. Bluish gray. “What’s the point of a high horse if you jump off as soon as your target appears.”
Belinda sucked in a breath, staring at the man in astonishment. Slowly the surprise turned into outrage.
Ria had to hide a giggle. Belinda had spent most of her life bossing other people around. She wasn’t used to people talking back to her.
Skye snorted and covered her mouth with her hand.
“What did you say?” Belinda asked in a hushed tone that Ria was very familiar with. It was her sister’s most dangerous voice.
“There’s the high horse again,” Fitz said with a satisfied nod. “Knew it couldn’t be gone for long.” He turned toward Ria before Belinda could do more than sputter. “These them?” He gestured toward the arrangements in the cooler.
“Yep. Those are them. They’re all tagged, and here’s a printout of the addresses. I also sent it to your phone.”
“I saw it. I’ll take care of these.”
“Thanks.”
Belinda was glaring at Fitz’s back, but the man was evidently completely oblivious to her outrage. He ignored her with perfect indifference as he loaded the arrangements into the back of his car—an old Thunderbird in an ugly shade of sandy yellow—and took off without another word.
“I really don’t like that man,” Belinda said, clearly able to find her words now that the cause of her peeve had departed.
“He’s harmless.”
“Harmless? He’s the rudest person I’ve ever met!”
“Well, I’ll warn you when he’s coming by to make deliveries so you don’t accidentally run into him again. I’m not going to find someone new. We use Fitz, and that’s not going to change.”
“Fine,” Belinda said with a sniff. “It’s your business, so you can do what you want.”