One Way Ticket Read online

  I smiled at her, and she left the room. That was really nice of her. It sure was helpful to have a friend here in this new life.

  Speaking of friends, I should probably call my best friend and maid of honor, Naomi. I knew she was upset with me, too, especially because my escape left her in the trenches, having to field all the questions. I sent her a text.

  Please don’t be mad at me. Just got off the phone with Priscilla. It wasn’t pretty.

  She responded only a few seconds later.

  She was furious! Are you going to tell me where you are? I stopped into The Flower Girl, and I met Addison. What’s happening with Todd?

  I began to type.

  I haven’t spoken to him yet. Trying to get up the nerve to call him.

  I carefully avoided her question about my current location. I didn’t want anyone back home to know where I was, and that included Naomi. Even though she was my best friend, I didn’t completely trust her not to crack under pressure—namely, pressure from my mother.

  I have to run. I promise I will keep in touch. And don’t worry about me, I’m fine.

  I put my phone on the desk and rubbed my forehead. I needed to focus on something else. I logged onto Addi’s computer and typed in “Fuchsia Flowers and Gifts.” I wanted to find out more about this shop before Mrs. Watson, or any of her crew, became their new customers.

  * * *

  Holy Pink! Fuchsia Flowers and Gifts was definitely living up to its name.

  Isabella and I arrived a few minutes after the event started. I took a good look around to see what all the fuss was about. It was a cute gift shop, except there was way too much pink—technically fuchsia, hence the name—for my taste. Everything, including the walls, the shelves, and every piece of furniture was the color of bubble gum.

  Seriously?

  I asked Isabella to pay attention to the customers, just in case they happened to be any of Addi’s regulars. I was already expecting Mrs. Watson to make an appearance, even though she told me she wouldn’t.

  I noticed a woman with short strawberry blonde hair passing out glasses of wine and chocolate-covered strawberries. Free wine and sugar—that was definitely a brilliant selling point.

  Isabella and I took off in separate directions. I made my way toward the free wine—for research purposes, of course.

  “Hi there!” the woman with the strawberry blonde hair said in an over-the-top cheerful tone. “Thanks for coming to Fuchsia Flowers and Gifts tonight. Red or white? We also have bottled water, if you’d prefer.”

  “White, please,” I said, trying my best to mimic her cheerfulness. I wasn’t doing a very good job.

  “My name is Aubrey. I’m one of the owners. How did you hear about our little slice of heaven?”

  Their what? Oh, this was going to be fun.

  “I heard about you through a friend. I’m actually visiting from San Francisco for a few weeks.”

  Aubrey’s face lit up. “How nice. I’ve never been there, but I would love to walk across the Golden Gate Bridge.”

  I took a sip of my wine. This was one topic I could definitely get excited about.

  “Oh, you should! It’s a wonderful city. Most people fall in love with it as soon as they arrive.” I couldn’t help but remember Addi’s message about her first impression. I hoped she was still loving my home city.

  “Orlando is a great place, too. What brings you here?”

  I forced a smile. “Vacation. What else?”

  She nodded. “Well, please enjoy your evening. Make sure you enter to win some of our fantastic prizes and tell everyone you know about Fuchsia Flowers and Gifts!”

  I took another sip of my wine. Don’t count on it.

  “Thank you,” I replied with a fake smile.

  A few other women approached us, and Aubrey gave them the same welcome speech she had just given to me.

  As I wandered around, I made my way toward the floral section in the back corner of the store. There were a few bouquets on display, but nothing that could rival Addison’s creations. I began to feel more at ease. Floral design didn’t seem to be a main focus here, so maybe Addi had nothing to worry about after all?

  I took another glance around the shop. Isabella was now talking to Aubrey and getting her free wine. I had no doubt she was pumping her for information, which was good.

  I was just about to snap a few pictures to show Addi when someone caught my eye.

  Someone very familiar.

  I moved a little closer. Could it really be him? I maneuvered myself for a better view. He turned to face me, looking straight at me.

  I was right!

  It was Ethan, my neighbor on my flight from Dallas. I remembered those blue eyes very vividly from when we talked to each other during our journey to Florida. He gave me a curious look and smiled. I watched as he excused himself from his conversation and walked over to me. He was wearing a light blue buttoned-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up and a pair of dark blue jeans. His shirt almost matched his eyes.

  “Well, this is a surprise,” Ethan said with a smile, showing off his perfectly white teeth. I tilted my head back to get a better look at his face. I had to admit I was a little distracted by how attractive he was. I must have really been out of it on the plane, otherwise I would have remembered this.

  I wasn’t surprised because it had been a crazy day for me.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

  “I was going to ask you the same question. The last time I saw you, you had just crawled out of a window and were moving into a stranger’s house.”

  I shifted uncomfortably, wishing he had forgotten that little fact.

  “Obviously, you’re settling into O-town okay?”

  O-town? I had never heard that nickname before.

  “I’m doing okay,” I replied, purposefully avoiding his reference to me being a runaway bride. “I’m just really surprised to see you here.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “You don’t think I can handle being in a place that’s wall-to-wall pink?”

  I giggled and looked around. There was only one other man in the entire shop. “No, I think it’s awesome. Both you and that guy over there.” I paused. “You two are either obviously comfortable with your sexuality, or you’re a couple of geniuses. This is probably a great place to pick up women.”

  Ethan laughed. “That’s my brother. And we aren’t here to pick up women. His wife is one of the owners, and I’m hanging out with him tonight.”

  Now that was interesting. Ethan’s sister-in-law owned this place. What were the chances?

  “Oh, I just met Aubrey. Is she his wife?”

  He shook his head. “Nope, Jackie is his wife. She’s the short blonde one over there.”

  I looked in the direction of where he was pointing.

  Crap! Jackie was standing near the front door, and she was talking to Mrs. Watson. I had a feeling she would show up tonight. What a liar.

  “Sabrina, we better get going,” Isabella interrupted, appearing at my side. She looked at Ethan and raised her eyebrows. I could only imagine what she was thinking. Either she was mesmerized by his good looks or she was wondering why someone who was technically still engaged was standing so close to a super sexy man.

  Or maybe she was thinking both?

  “Isabella, this is Ethan. We were sitting next to each other on the plane ride here. Crazy coincidence, huh?”

  “Wow, really?” she asked.

  “His sister-in-law is one of the owners,” I added, shooting her a look. “That’s her, over by the door.”

  Isabella’s eyes grew wide as soon as she saw Mrs. Watson.

  “I’ll introduce you two, come on,” Ethan offered.

  Both Isabella and I looked at each other in horror. No one here knew we ran Blooms on Valencia—except Mrs. Watson.

  I considered our options. If we abruptly rushed out of the shop, it would look really shady. We needed to make a decision, and fast.


  “Um, I have to make a quick phone call,” Isabella said, saving herself. “Why don’t you go and I’ll meet you in a few minutes?”

  I knew what she was doing. There was less of a chance of Mrs. Watson recognizing me.

  “Okay,” I replied uncertainly, hoping this plan would work.

  Thankfully, Ethan didn’t notice Isabella’s abrupt escape. We began to make our way toward Jackie and that traitor, Mrs. Watson. The shop was starting to get crowded now, forcing Ethan to move a little closer to me. I noticed my heart rate kick up a notch.

  What the hell was happening to me?

  “I still can’t believe you’re here,” he said, leaning down to talk in my ear. I could feel his breath on my neck, which sent a tingle down my spine. I nodded quickly as I squeezed through a few girls, talking about the free wine.

  Was Ethan flirting with me?

  Did I even mind if he was?

  We approached Jackie and, thankfully, Mrs. Watson had moved away. Potential catastrophe averted!

  “Jackie, I want you to meet someone,” Ethan said, placing his hand on the small of my back. His gesture caused another tingle down my spine.

  I shifted uncomfortably, trying to ignore the sensation.

  “This is Sabrina, she’s visiting from California. We were on the same plane from Dallas.”

  Jackie looked back and forth between Ethan and me. The way she sized me up gave me a weird feeling, a feeling I couldn’t quite put my finger on.

  “We just happened to run into each other here tonight,” I added.

  Why did I feel the need to explain myself?

  “Wow, that’s cool,” she said, finally. “It’s nice to meet you, Sabrina.”

  “You too, and your place is adorable.”

  I wasn’t sure if “adorable” was the description she wanted to hear, but how else would you describe a perfectly pink gift shop? It really was overkill, almost as if Barbie had thrown up all over the place.

  “Thanks so much!”

  Before we had a chance to talk, Jackie was summoned away by another guest, leaving me alone with Ethan once more. We smiled at each other. My heart began to beat faster and part of me wanted to run.

  It was much too soon to have these types of feelings for another man.

  “I . . . I better get going. Isabella is waiting for me.”

  He nodded. “Oh, sure. There’s just one thing. Normally, I wouldn’t be so forward, but I can’t help but find this really strange, us running into each other like this. It’s like fate or something.”

  Did he say fate?

  He paused. “Would you like to meet up for coffee sometime?”

  My smile began to fade.

  “As friends,” he added quickly, taking in my expression. “I know you’re just getting out of a relationship, but sometimes it’s nice to see a friendly face in a new city.”

  Did leaving my fiancé at the altar count as “just getting out of a relationship”?

  “I think that would be okay,” I said uncertainly.

  What was I doing?

  He grinned at me. “Great.”

  This time Ethan asked for my cell number. Obviously I never called him after he gave me his number on the plane. I felt like I was in a daze as I recited it to him. A few minutes later we said our goodbyes, and I made my way toward the door, where Isabella was waiting for me.

  “I think we should get out of here,” I suggested.

  On my way out, I caught Jackie watching me, and once again I felt uneasy. Maybe she already knew I was spying on her for Blooms? Either that or she was being overprotective of Ethan.

  Hmm . . . this evening certainly proved to be enlightening, in more ways than one.

  Chapter 7

  Addison

  Just an FYI, be prepared for my customer, Mrs. Thornhill. She’s pretty demanding, but she owns San Francisco society. Keep her happy, and you’ll do great.

  I swallowed. Hard. My Knight in Shining Sneakers, the guy who saved me from that hedge, was here, at The Flower Girl. He was standing right in front of me, looking even hotter than I remembered him.

  Never before in the history of fashion had I regretted my clothing choice as much I did right in that moment.

  Of course, I had hoped to see him again, but I would have been prepared, dressed in a figure-hugging dress and heels, my long hair styled into soft waves, my makeup enhancing my blue eyes.

  Not looking like I’d thrown on my brother’s clothes from the day before.

  I opened my mouth to speak. Closed it again.

  Was this a crazy coincidence or was Cupid poised somewhere above us in the rafters, ready to shoot his arrow through our hearts?

  I almost looked up to check. Almost.

  He seemed as thrown as me. “What are you doing here?” he asked, his forehead crinkled in question in an oh-so sexy way.

  “I . . . ah, I work here,” I managed, my mouth dry.

  Oh, my, he was gorgeous! He was dressed more formally this time, in a crisp white business shirt, open at the neck, with a pair of navy pants. His jaw was just as chiseled, his five o’clock shadow now gone.

  His eyebrows shot up. “You do?”

  I nodded, biting my lip as butterflies flew around in my belly. “I do.”

  “Here? At this florist? At The Flower Girl?”

  With me inside the store, talking to him outside it, it seemed like a fairly safe conclusion to draw to me.

  “Ah, yes.”

  Why was this so difficult for him to grasp? Maybe it was true what they say: you can’t be heart-stopping-ly hot and bright at the same time.

  “Okay.” He nodded. “Are you all right, after the scooter incident?”

  A blush crept up my cheeks at the memory of my hedge “flop.”

  “Yes, totally. Thanks, by the way. You were great, coming to my rescue like that.”

  A half smile grew on his face, as he cocked an eyebrow. “Your ‘rescue’?”

  “Yes, well . . . you know, in an entirely ‘men and women are equal’ kind of way, of course.”

  What was I talking about?

  “In a what kind of way?” His smile grew—as did my blush.

  “I mean, you didn’t rescue me in a damsel in distress kind of way, whatever a damsel is. I mean, do you know?”

  Stop me, stop me now.

  His eyes widened. “I think a damsel’s a woman.”

  “Well, then I guess I was a damsel-slash-woman, not in distress, but rather, in a hedge.”

  Shut up, Addi!

  I could see him biting back a grin. “So, what you’re saying is you were a woman in a hedge?”

  I crossed my arms and gave a short, sharp nod. “Exactly.”

  Why was I so ditzy around this guy? My foot seemed to be taking up permanent residence in my mouth.

  Maybe it was because he looked like he could be a dark Liam Hemsworth?

  Yeah, that could be it.

  That and the fact that he had sparked something in me I hadn’t felt in a long, long time. Something I barely recognized, even.

  And I didn’t want it—or him—to go away.

  We stood, looking at one another, his smirk firmly in place, my embarrassment at my total inability to shut the hell up surprising even me.

  “Anyway, did you . . . want something?” I led, trying to break the awkward silence.

  Say you want me!

  He tilted his head. His hair flopped to the side, and I literally had to stop my hand from reaching out and touching it.

  After a beat, his handsome face broke into a fresh smile. “Some flowers?”

  My heart sunk. Not me, then.

  “Flowers? Of course! You’re in the right place for flowers!” I grinned at him, hoping he didn’t pick up on my nerves, suspecting he couldn’t have missed them if he was deaf and blind. “Would you like to come in?” I stood back, holding the door open for him to walk inside.

  He pointed at the sign. “It says you’re closed.”

  “It does?” I aske
d, my voice going up an octave.

  Of course, it said “closed,” because the shop was.

  I grabbed the sign and flipped it over to the “open” side. “Silly me. Please, come on in.”

  “Thanks.” He brushed past me as he walked into the shop.

  I closed my eyes, trying not to make a big deal about this. It was just a bizarre coincidence this guy was here right now, not some fairy-tale thing—which I totally didn’t buy into, anyway.

  I just needed to remember that.

  I replaced my romantic fourteen-year-old head with my professional floral designer one, planting it firmly on my shoulders. “What sort of flowers were you looking for? We’ve only got potted plants today, but maybe one of these lovely orchids?”

  I walked over to the shelves, placed the paperweight that had been getting increasingly warmer in my hand down, and collected one of Sabrina’s exquisite orchids. In my nervous state, I virtually brandished it at him.

  He took it from me, and I ignored the somewhat confused look on his handsome face.

  He wanted me to be a florist? I was being a florist.

  “Or maybe this Peace Lily?” I bent down and picked one up off the floor, again holding it out to him.

  Once more, he took the plant from me, watching me closely.

  “Oh, I know! How about an aloe?” I collected the small pot from one of the oak benches. I turned to look at him and saw him balancing two plants as I tried to hand him a third.