"You couldn't honestly wait," I asked as I picked up another bucket and walked back. I looked over my shoulder for a response, and he smiled.
"Well you can talk while you walk, right," he said and pushed his hands into his pockets.
"Well why don't you make yourself useful then, and help me?" I suggested, nodding towards the other buckets. Clearly, there were plenty more flowers that needed transportation. He gave them a look, and then looked back at me.
"I'll ruin my suit."
"Oh my god," I groaned and turned to jog back. I had until the end of the day — well, six — to do this, and he was just slowing me down. Didn't he say he would help me?
I heard a chuckle and looked to see him laughing in the sidewalk, rather than helping me, and shook his head.
"I was joking, here, give me this, you go get some more."
His fingers brushed mine as he took the bucket from me, and I jumped at the contact.
"I u—," I didn't even have time to respond, or register what just happened, as he turned and walked towards our shop. Okay, I guess he wasn't that bad after all.
There were barely any words spoken between us as he helped me carry all the buckets to the shop.
'There," I said finally as I placed the final one down, and arched my aching back, great.
"Now that you’re free, I need to book a wedding."
I rolled my eyes in response, I was not free. I had all these flowers to tie, but since he did help me, I excused myself around him — as he decided to sit in the chair like he owned the place — and went to the counter to open a page.
"Okay we have the 13th, 26th and 29th available,"
"It's the 30th," he said pointing to the calendar, and I laughed and shook my head.
"No until next January."
"But, that's eight months away."
I nodded in agreement. "Well, of course. We're booked out all days until then, and we don't do more than three events in a month — no matter when they are."
Unless there was a big exception, like this month, we had three in one week, but that was about it. And we needed heaps of weeks in warning; we had to order food, venues to book — if it was different from our venue — workers to get and it was a lot of work.
"But I need it this month!"
I raised an eyebrow as he frowned, and placed his hands on his hips. What was he, a five year old?
"Look kid, we are booked out, and I can't help you."
He sighed with a frustrated look. Honestly,I felt bad for him, I really did, but there was no way we could take on more jobs than three. That might mean we could under perform, or just not get it finished on time.
"How about next month?"
"Boo—"
"And, don't say you're booked out either."
I closed my mouth and sat there with my hands clasped in my lap.
"Are you going to say something?"
"You said not to say ‘booked out’, and that's what I will say. We are literally booked out."
I was tempted to open the client database to show him, but that was private stuff. And just as I was about to tell him to leave, Jenny walked out with a smile on her face, and looked between us with a raised eyebrow.
"Is everything okay," she asked and slowly raised her hands up as if she felt like she was disturbing something.
"Everything is okay, I was just telling this gentleman that we are booked out till January."
"There's got to be something, I promised my sister I would find planners for her."
"We are not just planners, thank you very much," I snapped in anger; first he comes in and follows me, then tries to pressure me into booking him in.
His deep eyes shot to mine, and I glared right back at him. Did he really think he could walk all over my business?
"We really are booked sir," Jenny said as she walked to the computer, pushing me out of the way. I looked back at him, surprised to see him looking me in the eye, rather than her ass, that I know was too visible by the way she was bent over as she clicked open files.
I cleared my throat, broke eye contact, choosing to look around instead.
"Well, I guess we could fit you in next month."
"Thank you," he let out with a relieved sigh.
"What?" I snapped my gaze to her. She just shrugged as she stood up, and I motioned my head towards the door.
"Excuse us," I said as I grabbed her upper arm, dragging her into the back office.
"What do you mean we can fit him in, we can't," I whispered.
"Oh come on babe, look at him. He clearly needs event planners, besides we're only doing two birthdays and one baby shower party— and they require very little effort. Plus, we need to work faster if we want to expand."
She had a point. Usually birthdays — with the exception of this one— didn't take us too long to plan, if everything went right. But what were the chances that everything would go right?
Look at this one, the flowers were a mess.
"But—"
"No buts. Why don't you tell him the details of what we do, and I will finish the last boxes and help you with the flowers."
I groaned and rubbed my temples. Did we really need the extra stress weddings brought? There was always someone who wanted something different from the bride — when really, it was the bride's day.
I stepped back outside, and saw him sitting on one of the black chairs, flicking through the magazines. He saw me and smiled as he stood up.
"Thank you, I will pay you double for doing this," he let out on a relieved breath.
I just narrowed my eyes, and sat at the computer chair as he leaned over. Somehow, I felt more like a charity when he said that.
I kept silent and bit my tongue to prevent a response; I did have to learn to talk back less.
I gave the typical, unenthusiastic, briefing of what we do as the planners before I pulled up an available date for next month.
"June 27th?"
"Can you go the 30th?"
I gave him a pointed look.
"The 27th is perfect."
"I thought so too," I said sarcastically, and opened the calendar to book him in.
"Name?"
"Samantha Reed."
I glanced up. "I mean your name," I said, unless his name was Samantha, who was I to judge? My parents named me after a color.
"But the wedding is hers."
"I still need to know your name, unless she's dealing with the rest?"
"No, no I'm planning it," he said and wrinkled his nose. I had to hold back a smile, men never really did want to plan the wedding.
"I'm paying for it too," he said with a sigh and propped up on one elbow, and leaned on it — somehow managed to look like a ten year old who was waiting for food, and not a grown attractive man.
I cleared my throat, waiting for his answer.
"Reed, just put it under Alexander Reed."
I paused. That name, why did it seem so familiar? I gave him a considering look as his green eyes looked at me in boredom.
'What?"
"Nothing," I said, and shook my thoughts away to finish typing in the details. I know that name.
"Number?"
"I hope this is on a professional level," he said with a wink, and I rolled my eyes.
"Just give me your number."
He nodded sobering up as he rattled off the numbers. Gosh, he seemed like a hyper kid on coffee one moment, and like a prude the next. Jesus, Violet. Since when were you so judgemental of others?
"Okay then. I'll call you to arrange a meeting to discuss the plans."
He nodded, tapping his fingers as I stood up.
"Anything else" I asked as he was still sitting, staring at me which made me feel a bit more self-conscious. For a moment, I felt he was staring at my cheeks, were they too puffy for my face? I couldn't help having chubby cheeks. It was in my genes.
"No, no, nothing."
I nodded, and he turned to leave, then hesitated before turning back around with, "do you want to get a coffee?"
