Wallflower (Whittaker Floral #2)

2. Hannah

2

HANNAH

I n all of Elizabeth Whittaker Floral and Events, the chiller was my favorite spot. The shop wasn’t large. The front was just big enough to comfortably host clients and the back consisted of only six workbenches, but the chiller was large and silver and beautifully fragrant. I loved the moment of solitude that came when its heavy door swooshed shut behind me. People came in and out, certainly, but it wasn’t bustling like the rest of the shop. And while I loved my co-workers—especially Matty, my best friend in the whole world—I loved being alone just as much.

Matty passed by as I walked out, tipping her head in my direction as she said, “Guess who I saw last night?”

Matilda “Matty” Whittaker had started as my college roommate, but almost a decade later she was my best friend and the daughter of my boss, which was how I’d come to work here in the first place. At five foot seven with flawless skin and dark hair, she had her mother’s good looks and charm. Her features were delicate and straight, and she somehow managed to look like a porcelain doll and a badass bitch simultaneously—or at least that’s what I thought—but I guess to someone off the street she probably just looked like a porcelain doll. They would find out the hard way what a badass she was. “Kesean,” she whispered, not waiting for me to reply.

My eyes went wide. Matty and Kesean had met the previous year and hit it off. No, they’d more than hit it off—"hit it off” implies two people having a few dates and realizing they like the same kind of music. Matty and Kesean had visible, off-the-charts chemistry. Chemistry which, I’m told, had resulted in some of the most epic sex of her life. I opened my mouth to ask where or how—after all, Kesean had moved to L.A. full-time months earlier—but Elizabeth waved from across the room. “Can we gather up and go over today’s clients?” she asked, a hint of irritation darkening her tone. I realized the small group of employees working today were already congregated and waiting for Matty and me.

“Shit,” Matty muttered as I dumped the supplies on my workbench hurriedly. “I’ll stop by later and fill you in,” she said, then she grinned and slipped between the tables to join her mother. I followed quickly behind.

An hour later, Matty still hadn’t made her way to my work station, where she often joined me to talk about whatever was on her mind while we built the arrangements for the day, so I decided to head to her office. Setting down my knife, I slipped between the tables to her door. I didn’t hear the voices until I got close, but the words that drifted through the door stopped me in my tracks.

“We can’t go on like this, Matilda.” Elizabeth’s voice, sounding sharper than the voice she typically used when she lectured Matty.

“I know, I know. I need to hire someone new.” I edged closer, surprised to hear the resignation in Matty’s voice. I wouldn’t usually eavesdrop, but I couldn’t help but wonder if they were talking about firing someone. How could I walk away from that? What if it was me? Fortunately, I was the only floral assistant in the back of shop, so I was completely alone to eavesdrop.

“You do,” Elizabeth agreed. “I know it’s hard to replace a friend, but it has to be done.” Those words sent my pulse skyrocketing, and I stepped closer, as if I could eavesdrop on their thoughts if only I were close enough .

“Mom, I know.” Matty’s voice snapped back to the harsh irritation she so often reserved for her mother. “Drea was really good at her job. It’s not like I’m going to find someone on the street with her same skill set.”

Drea . I sighed my relief silently. They weren’t talking about replacing me , they were talking about replacing Drea, who’d moved to L.A. six months ago.

“You think I don’t know that, Matilda? I hired Drea. I hired every single person here.”

Matty snorted uncharitably, and I grimaced, easily able to envision the sharp glare that would be Elizabeth’s only reply. “What about Hannah?” Matty asked. “Her eye for design is impeccable. She could do wedding set-up, too.” I leaned closer to the door, waiting for Elizabeth to verify Matty’s rare praise.

But there was silence.

A long silence, in fact, that stretched uncomfortably, until my shoulders sagged and Matty’s voice returned, as resigned as before. “I know, I know. It can’t be Hannah.”