Page 25 of Sweet Madness
“Well, if it isn’t none other than Shaw Banning.” Billy Bloom—yes, that’s her legal name given to her by her equally cuckoo but very lovable mother, Sunny Bloom—stands behind the counter, which is covered from one end to the other in flower arrangements. Business is always booming since it’s the only flower shop in town. Mother and daughter run it together along with two other businesses.
The petite blonde with her hair cascading in long waves, smiles wickedly. Happiness radiates from her, much like it once did from Ella. “What a pleasant surprise,” she laughs joyfully. “I must confess, I never thought I’d see you inside my shop,” she grins as if she knows something I don’t. “Must be that girl, huh!” she claps excitedly.
The fuck…
The background music abruptly stops, and I notice several women whispering among themselves, their gazes fixed on me.
This is why I hate leaving the ranch. This fucking town is as happy and welcoming as can be, but the people here do love to gossip.
My instincts are on high alert as I try not to give anything away about my client.
Then something on the wall catches my attention—a small TV. There, Ellaiza’s face is plastered on the screen while some lady talks in the background. Undoubtedly, more gossip and conspiracy theories are swirling around her disappearance.
I need to deal with that before it blows up and makes guarding her more difficult. Maybe she should post on her social media as if nothing is going on. That might get them to stop and move on to the next hot and vain topic.
“Golden boy.” Billy’s voice interrupts my thoughts, and I turn away from the TV and look at her again.
Golden boy. How I hate that name. She’s not the only one who calls me that. Most people in town do. My cousin, Ben, used to call me “Golden Boy” when we were younger, and everyone else picked up on it, feeling like they had a right to do so.
I don’t say shit. I never do.
Breathing through my nose, I lean forward and then say through gritted teeth, “Can you keep a secret, Bloom?”
No, she can’t.
Her green eyes sparkle as if the idea of a shared secret between us makes her happy. The girl is too kind for this world, I admit.
“I need flowers.”
“I guessed that,” she smirks.
Clearing my throat, feeling uncomfortable as fuck, I try again. “What flowers do you suggest?”
“It depends,” she says, leaning back with a serious expression crossing her face.
“Depends on…?” I lean back, raising a questioning brow.
“How bad you messed up, I guess.” Billy shrugs.
She’s kind and smart—too smart.
I sigh and ponder for a moment. Maybe a moment too long, because the next thing I know, Billy leaves her spot behind the counter and stands next to me.
“When you think of her, what color comes to mind?”
Ella’s face flashes through my mind, and a warm sensation spreads through my chest.
Another long moment passes before I speak. “Pink,” I mumble, feeling annoyed.
“Pink is good. This is good. We can work with pink. Now, we’re getting somewhere.” Billy then moves toward my right and stops next to a table with dozens of pink roses. Shit. There’s more. “And what word would you say best describes her?”
“Sweet. Sweet and too damn kind,” I mutter, rubbing the back of my neck, feeling even more irritated than when I arrived.
“Bingo!” Billy says happily. “And we have a winner.”
I watch as she picks brown paper and pink ribbons, then I stand back in silence as she works her magic.
After a while of just watching, I ask, “Why those?”