Addison

 

Pay close attention to the details of the Thornhill wedding. Mrs. Thornhill’s requests are very specific!

“This wedding is in less than two weeks, Sabrina!” Mrs. Thornhill exclaimed, tapping the table with her index finger for emphasis.

I was sitting with Mrs. Thornhill and her daughter, Lucy, at one of the cafés in the Ferry Building, putting the final touches to the flower order for the wedding. Mrs. Thornhill was being the usual, bossy person I’d gotten to know over the past week of working at The Flower Girl, making demands and expecting almost slave-like fealty, all the while insisting on calling me “Sabrina.” I don’t think she had any clue what my actual name was at all—and nor did I think she cared.

Really, she was such a joy to work with.

Lucy, on the other hand, was like a timid little mouse, agreeing with every choice her mother made, not once offering an opinion that was anything but echoing her mother’s. I wanted to shake her, to tell her this was her and her fiancé’s day, not anyone else’s.

If Sabrina’s failed wedding could do anything, it would be to show girls like Lucy not to get pushed into a corner.

“Lucy wants the white roses as we both feel the flowers shouldn’t stand out against the dress. They should complement it instead.”

I glanced at Lucy. Was that really what she wanted? I’d noticed her face light up when I’d suggested peach-colored tulips teamed with a ring of baby’s breath for her bouquet. White roses, although stunning, did not elicit the same response from her.

Lucy nodded at me and shot me a timid smile, as she’d been doing this entire meeting.

“Are you sure, Lucy? Only, I thought you quite liked this bouquet.” I pointed at a photo of the tulips on the table.

“She wants the white roses, don’t you, Lucy darling?” Mrs. Thornhill said, glaring at her daughter.

I watched as Lucy looked from the picture to her mother, then back at me. “Mother is right. The white roses would look best.”

I let out a puff of air and smiled at her. “Well, as long as you’re sure. The white roses will be stunning with this greenery, tied up with a simple white ribbon.” I held up the picture of the design.

“Excellent. Now, the centerpieces. The other Sabrina and I had thought these would look the best.”

The other Sabrina? Geez.

And so the conversation went, Lucy acquiescing to whatever her mother wanted, me going along with it all, feeling bad for the poor bride. As I half listened to Mrs. Thornhill carry on about how lower class gerberas were—Who knew there could be such a thing as “lower class” flowers?—I wondered whether Lucy’s fiancé was equally timid and dominated by his mother.

If he was, they stood no chance.

The meeting done, my notes on what constituted the “right” sort of flowers over their lesser companions safely tucked into a folder entitled “Thornhill Wedding,” I took the short stroll to The Flower Girl where Leonardo, Sabrina’s trusty assistant, had been holding down the fort.

“Hi, Leonardo,” I said as I breezed through the open doors.

No matter how many times I called him that, I couldn’t get the image of him dressed up as a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle out of my head. Only, he wouldn’t tote a weapon. Oh, no. He’d be the flower ninja, able to create an exquisite floral arrangement at twenty paces.

“Hi, babe,” he replied, looking up at me and smiling.

I smiled back, feeling a touch giddy.

Had I mentioned Leonardo was utterly gorgeous? As in totally drop-dead, angels wept, it wasn’t fair he was gay kind of gorgeous? He was tanned and toned, with thick blond hair swept up into a man bun. Ordinarily, I wasn’t a fan of the man bun, but on Leonardo it made him look like some kind of Medieval warrior.

Only toting flowers, not swords.

However he looked, he was a godsend when it came to The Flower Girl. He only worked part time, usually when Sabrina had some big projects on, but he’d agreed to come in every day over the last week, making my task of getting to know the business considerably easier.

Plus, with his good looks, I was certain he was attracting more clientele. They may have come in to ogle him, but they left with their wallets lighter, a large bouquet in their hands.

I was more than happy with the arrangement—florist pun intended.

Personally, I had stepped up to the plate and was now dressing in shirts and skirts and dresses with heels every day. I fitted in nicely, even next to the Norse god, Leonardo.

“You left your phone on the counter,” he said, holding it aloft. “Somebody named ‘Cute guy on the cable car’ called. Cute guy, huh?”

I grabbed for it, but Leonardo snatched it away. Being significantly taller than me, he had more than an unfair advantage in this game.

“Uh-ah. Not until you tell me who this cute guy is.”

I chuckled, giving up the fight. “All right. You win. His name is Asher, and I met him last week when I was being a tourist on the Powell-Hyde cable car.”

I didn’t let my mind wander to why I was on that cable car in the first place.

I didn’t want to go there.

“And?” Leonardo prompted, still holding my phone out of my reach.

“He wants me to go out with him.”

Satisfied with my response, Leonardo lowered his hand and I took the phone from him. “Thank you.”

“How cute is he?”

I thought of Asher. There was no denying he was attractive.

He just wasn’t Todd.

Todd, the guy I needed to forget—but was having a very tricky time doing so.

“He’s very cute. Now, get back to work.”

He gave me a mock salute, his iridescent blue eyes dancing. “Yes, ma’am.”

I dialed my voicemail and listened to Asher’s message. As I had suspected, he was asking me out. I hit delete.

I hadn’t dated anyone since Jon had dumped me eighteen months ago. I knew I needed to break this drought, but my heart wasn’t in it.

Typical. Why couldn’t I be into single, not-left-at-the-altar-by-Sabrina Asher? Life would be so much less complicated.

I typed out a text.

Thank you so much, but I think I’ll pass. It was great meeting you!

I pressed send. I hoped Asher wouldn’t be too bothered, although I suspected a guy like him would cope just fine with the rejection from the random Kiwi girl on the cable car.

Leonardo and I worked hard for the rest of the day, filling online and telephone orders, dealing with walk-ins, and arranging deliveries. The Flower Girl was a fun and busy place, and I could see why Sabrina was so passionate about it.

At the end of the day I locked up, and Leonardo and I walked out of the Ferry Building and into the evening sun.

“Thanks again for coming in for a full day today, Leonardo,” I said, giving him a quick hug. Leonardo was the kind of guy you couldn’t help but like, and I’d warmed to him straight away.

“Of course! Anything for Sabrina Number Two.”

I shook my head in good humor. “Where are you off to?”

“I’m meeting the girls for a cocktail or three in the Castro. You should come! They’d totes adore you.”

“The girls?” I questioned.

“Well, they’re all boys, of course, but they’re very pretty.”

I chuckled. “Well, have a great time. I’m actually meeting Naomi for a drink.”

He air-kissed me and declared, “Naomi is fabulous in an uptight, Russian Hill kind of way.”

“What does that mean?” I asked with a laugh.

“It means she was born with a drawer of silver spoons in her mouth and has the attitude to match.”

“Meow! A saucer of milk, Leonardo?” I joked.

“Babe, they don’t call me Leonardo Dicatrio for nothing. I am queen of catty comments. Ask anyone in the bay area.”

I hopped on the F-line back to Marina and the sanctity of Sabrina’s apartment. Despite the unsettling intrusion by her mother in my first days here, I had really grown to love Sabrina’s place. I felt more at home here than I ever had in Orlando.

Maybe it was fate we’d met, after all?

I sat in the window seat in Sabrina’s living room, soaking up the early evening sun as I sipped a cup of tea. I scrolled through my phone, reading my messages, liking friends’ posts, and adding the odd comment. I got to a message from Tonya, telling me how she’d seen Geoff at a party and told him I might be moving back to New Zealand soon. Apparently, he was, and I quote, “beyond ecstatic.” Or, at least, he was according to Tonya.

I chewed the inside of my lip. Sure, Geoff was a great guy. We’d dated for years and we had fitted together like a glove. We knew one another so well, we could finish one another’s sentences. And then good-looking, charming, exciting Jon had turned up on the scene and I had been dazzled by him.

And look how that had turned out.

I decided to file it away for future thought. Right now, I had an evening to look forward to with Naomi.

A quick shower and change and I walked the few blocks to the bar Naomi said served the best mojitos in town. I also hoped they served food, because after a long day at The Flower Girl, I was famished.

I walked into the bar with its seventies-inspired décor, complete with kitsch-but-cool wooden wall paneling and tan-colored vinyl seats. I spotted Naomi at the bar, playing with the straw to her drink and chatting to the barman.

She greeted me with a kiss to the cheek, which she instantly wiped away with her fingers. “Lipstick, sorry.”

I hopped up onto the free bar stool next to her. “No worries.”

This time she was wearing a Barbie-pink jacket over a black sequined tank top and a pair of shorts, her long, slim legs tucked under the stool. I felt better next to her in my skinny jeans, heels, and white open-necked shirt combo, despite the fact that she looked cutting edge and I looked . . . well, like me.

“Tim, this is Addi,” she said to the barman. He had a full beard but was completely bald up top, kind of like he had his head on upside down.

“Hey, Addi. What can I get you?”

“Oh, she’ll have one of your famous mojitos. How does that sound, Addi?” Naomi replied, looking at me.

I shrugged. “Sure, why not? And something to eat?”

Tim pushed the bar food menu over toward me and I scanned the options, settling on a bowl of meatballs with some garlic bread on the side.

“You’re clearly not planning on kissing anyone tonight,” Naomi commented after I’d placed my order.

I chuckled. “The garlic bread? No, it’s not likely I’ll be kissing anyone, although, I did meet a cute guy recently.”

“Oh, give me the details.”

I told Naomi how I’d met Asher and how he seemed like a nice guy.

“So, are you going to go out with him?”

I shrugged. “No” was the real answer, but Naomi seemed to like the idea of me going out with him, so I said, “Maybe. He wants to take me to a place called Fish Tank, or Puddle or something?”

“Pond?”

“That’s the one.”

“Wow, that’s impressive. Pond is the hot place right now.”

I was reminded of the “he’s so hot right now” line from Zoolander and smiled to myself.

“So, do you like him?” she asked, taking my smile to be about Asher.

“He seems nice.”

Right on cue, Todd came to mind.

With Naomi’s seal of approval, we moved on to our common ground: Sabrina.

“I know you can’t tell me where she is, and that’s fine. We’ve been talking. She asked me to help Todd sort out all the wedding gifts. They need to be returned.”

That sounded like a grisly business to me: returning presents from the Wedding That Wasn’t.

“Won’t that be really upsetting for Todd?” I tried not to blush as I mentioned his name.

“Actually, he’s doing surprisingly well for a guy left at the altar. But then, he might just be hiding his pain. You know how men are.”

An image of that fleeting sadness on his handsome face entered my mind, and I had to push it away.

I thought of how Naomi and Todd were meeting for lunch that day he took me by surprise at The Flower Girl. I was finding it hard to resist the urge to talk about him, despite my best efforts to push him from my mind all week. Not that I’d been successful in doing so, exactly.

But still, a girl needed to at least try, right?

You just couldn’t go lusting after your friend’s ex, even if you couldn’t for the life of you work out why she broke up with him in the first place.

I stirred my drink with my straw, watching the ice cubes swirl around. “You know him pretty well, do you?”

“You could say that. Years ago, there was this TV show here called Beverly Hills, 90210.”

The show’s theme song sprang instantly into my head. “I loved that show. Brandon and Brenda and all the gang.”

Naomi looked surprised.

“We have televisions in New Zealand, you know. Of course, they were all wind ups back then. We had this big lever, and it would take all the villagers to get it working.”

“Really?”

“No!” I laughed. How backward did she think New Zealand was? “Anyway, what were you were saying about 90210?”

“Well, in high school, Sabrina, Todd, and I were inseparable, a lot like Brenda, Kelly, and Brandon. We were so close, are so close.”

I thought of the characters on the show. Hadn’t Kelly got it on with Dylan while Brenda was away somewhere?

“We did everything together. The fact that Todd was dating Sabrina didn’t make any difference at all.”

“Apart from the kissing and stuff,” I said with a chortle.

“Yeah . . . except that.”

With surprise, I noticed Naomi’s face flush. But it may have been the bar lighting.

“So, Sabrina and Todd were together since high school? That’s a long time.”

“I know, right? They were fifteen when they first started dating.” She shook her head.

I did the math in my head. “They were together for eleven years?”

Naomi nodded.

“Wow.”

I couldn’t imagine that. I thought of the boy I dated when I was fifteen. There was no way on this sweet earth I would have stayed with him for all these years. Although, to be fair, he might have moved on from his skateboarding obsession by now.

Or, I’d hoped so, in the very least.

“Personally, I don’t get it. Todd’s one of the best guys I’ve ever met.” Naomi shook her head.

I nodded, pressing my lips together. He certainly seemed great to me. But then, I was more than a little biased.

“He’s smart, educated, good-looking, and from one of the best families in the city. Any girl would be lucky to have him.”

I narrowed my eyes at her. Did Naomi have designs on Todd? Was she hoping she’d be that girl? I looked away.

This was dangerous territory, best avoided.

A change of subject was in order, stat!

“I met Sabrina’s mother last week,” I said as the barman delivered my dinner. I thanked him.

“Prickle?”

I furrowed my brow. “Prickle?”

“Priscilla Monroe.”

“Is that her nickname?”

“An unofficial one, yes.” Naomi flashed me a wicked grin.

“I see.” Prickle. I smiled. It more than suited her.

“She broke into Sabrina’s apartment, demanding to know where she is. I got back one evening and found her, pacing the living room floor.”

“Are you serious? What did you tell her?”

I shot her a look. “Nothing, of course. I made a promise to Sabrina, and I’m sticking with it.”

“Good for you. She’s a force to be reckoned with, that woman. She’ll be back, I’m warning you.”

It hadn’t occurred to me that “Prickle” could turn up again, unannounced, letting herself into the apartment.

Hmm. I wondered if Sabrina would let me change the locks?

“You just stand your ground. Sabrina needs our help right now. The last thing she would want is her mom showing up. Wherever she is.”

I nodded my agreement as I took a bite of my meatballs. I think the last thing I would want would be for Prickle Monroe to turn up wherever I was, too.

By the end of the evening, Naomi and I had covered all the important topics: who our celebrity crushes were (mine: Ryan Gosling, hers: Chris Hemsworth), where to get the best bargain on designer shoes, and our favorite ice cream. She didn’t have to twist my arm very far for me to promise to try some Cowgirl Creamery salted caramel soon.

Outside the bar, a little tipsy from the three mojitos I’d imbibed, we hugged goodbye, agreeing to go out together again soon.

“And I need all the details from your date with that guy,” Naomi said.

“Asher.”

“Yeah, Asher. I’m so happy you met someone.” She had a whimsical look on her face.

“How about you? Are you seeing anyone?”

“I’m working on it,” she replied, mysteriously.

“Oh?” I raised my eyebrows.

Did she mean Todd? Was the 90210 thing stretching to Kelly getting together with Dylan in Brenda’s absence?

She pulled me in for another hug. “I’ll keep you posted. Thanks for a fun night.”

I chewed my lip as I watched her amble down the street. Rejected by one, lusted after by another. Todd was one popular guy.

Good job I’d made the call to stay well away.