Read Online His and Hers by Ashley Ludwig - Free Book Online Page A

glanced at the flier above the register, smiled at the words, Cain Trovato Plays Classical Guitar. How could she not go? After all, Cain had just saved fifty dollars of The Flower Field’s money.

 
     
     
     
    Chapter Nine
     
    Misty stood back from the prep table, eyeing Sofie’s creation. She could still taste orange flavors from Cain’s citrus olive oil on her lips.
    “There. I think that’s got it,” Sofie said, nudging Misty with her elbow. “Peace offering. You’ve gotta love the theme. Well done, lady!”
    The handmade, heart-shaped willow basket overflowed with the oranges, oils, and spreads arranged by Sofie’s artful touch. She’d snipped several budding boughs from the orange tree out front and filled the basket with oranges, citrus oil, and the small jars Cain had gifted. The miniature olive trees were the final touch. Grouped at the back, their tender branches bent to one another, extending the heart-shape of the basket, along with the gift.
    Misty, Diane, and Gia circled around Sofie and the basket, an excited O of surprise escaping from each of them.
    “This is awesome.” Diane squeezed her hand.
    “And, for next to nothing.” Gia reviewed the receipts in her hand, lifting her eyebrows to Misty. “How’d you manage that?”
    “Yeah, how did you get all that from Trovato?” Diane asked. “I’ve been after him for a discount for a month!”
    “Good timing, I guess.” Misty’s ears flushed with heat. “I helped him make a big sale. He gave this to me as a gesture of goodwill.”
    “Is that what he called it?” Sofie widened her sparkling, dark eyes. “I wish I could get some of that goodwill sometime.”
    The others laughed, the way only best friends can at some inside joke. Still, they all hugged Misty’s shoulders and congratulated and instantly included her, like one of the gang.
    “I’m gonna go extend your version of ‘I’m Sorry’ to Emily Raineer.” Diane elbowed Misty’s side. “Want to come?”
    “Are you sure?” Misty cocked her head at the others. “Is that all right?”
    “You kids go have fun. We’ve got to pay Fred and figure out tomorrow.” Gia hefted a crate of sagging yellow roses.
    Misty caught the perfume and sighed, hand to the door. “It’s a shame to toss all those…the petals still smell so good.”
    “She’s right, Diane.” Sofie snapped her fingers. “We could dry the buds, and make little sachets or drawer liners with them.” She reached for a roll of white tulle from under the counter and pulled out a stretch of the sheer fabric and another of thin, pink ribbon.
    “You know, with materials on hand, we just might be able to recoup the loss.” Gia did a quick calculation. “We might even make a little profit.”
    “I’ll do one better.” Sofie rolled up her sleeves and began bunching clumps of miniature antique roses. “How about dried flower arrangements? Look at this!”
    She bunched the sad-looking antique roses, with their jagged edges and tender leaves. Sofie wrapped the stems and hung them upside down from a wall hook. She stepped back, hands on her hips. “When life hands you lemons—”
    “Sell lemonade!” Gia finished, and the two high-fived with a little cheer.
    Basket in hand, Misty followed Diane out to the delivery van, emblazoned with The Flower Field logo and phone number on the side. For the first time in six months, she was on the leading edge of getting back her old life.
    They drove in silence, beyond the town limits into the rolling hills of wine country. Multi-million- dollar mansions set back from the winding road. Misty peered at the house numbers, pointing out the house.
    “You sure that’s the place?” Diane leaned forward on the steering wheel. “Gia usually does the deliveries out here.”
    “Yes. There’s the driveway, between those pilasters.” Misty focused on the mansion at the end of the curling driveway. A span of lawn flowed up to the house, with a concrete driveway edged by