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I already know she loves them. Last night, I witnessed her initial reaction to the bouquet. I’ll never forget the expression on her face or the sheer joy in her voice. Just the memory of that makes me want to buy her flowers every single day.

I need to take a breath because my crush on Opal Waverly is careening out of control at warp speed.

“Can I get you a rideshare?” I ask to help Posey out. “Or I can flag down a cab?”

“I’ve got it,” she tells me. “I’ll head over to see Opal now.”

“All right. Tell her I said hi.”

Sure, it’s lame, but it’s all I can think of right now.

“I’ll do that,” she assures me as she glances at two men passing us on the sidewalk. “Have a good afternoon, William.”

“You too,” I say as she brushes past me on her way to see the woman I wish I were spending the entire day with.

39

Opal

Havinglunch with my cousin was just what I needed today. When Malvie reached out and asked me to join her at her apartment, I jumped at the chance. I’ve been so busy that I haven’t had time to sit down and thank her for helping me develop the menu for Turquoise Crown. This lunch is the perfect opportunity for me to do just that.

I watch as she meticulously slices through a ripe tomato. Food has always been Malvie’s passion. I may be older than her, but my culinary skills never matched hers.

Even when we were kids, Malvie wrote recipes while I was learning how to ride a bike. Since then, she’s honed her skills. Her ultimate dream is to own a restaurant. I have no doubt she’ll make it happen.

“You’re sure a salad is enough for lunch?” she asks as her gaze shifts to my face.

Malvie’s eyes are the most intriguing shade of green I’ve ever seen. I’ve always found comfort in them. I suspect that’s because my cousin is one of the best people I know.

“For me, it is,” I say. “I can’t say if it will satisfy Posey.”

When Posey called me from outside Turquoise Crown a few minutes ago, it was Malvie’s idea to invite her to join us for lunch. Since Malvie only lives a few blocks from the bar, it’ll be a quick trip by foot for Posey. I do feel a pang of guilt knowing she’s carrying the vase of roses with her. I didn’t pick it up when William gave me the flowers, but I imagine it must have some weight to it.

When I rushed out of William’s apartment after spending most of the night in his bed, the roses were the last things on my mind. I was feeling overwhelmed, so getting to the sidewalk so I could breathe was my sole mission then.

I should have known that William would try to deliver the bouquet to me. He’s beyond thoughtful.

“I have fresh baked sourdough bread warming in the oven,” Malvie tells me. “Posey will ask for a tomato and basil sandwich with my homemade mayo.”

I scratch the back of my neck. “For the record, I wouldn’t say no if you put one of those in front of me.”

Laughing, she reaches for another tomato from a ceramic bowl sitting on the countertop. “I can arrange that.”

She tied her light brown hair back into a low ponytail before she started lunch prep, and from this angle, I can see my aunt’s features on her face. Malvie shares the same jawline as her mom, and her perfect button nose is also courtesy of her mom’s side of the family. That happens to be my dad’s side of the family, too, but I didn’t inherit those same features. I look a lot more like my mom than my dad.

I look toward the door to the apartment. “I should head down to the lobby to help Posey.”

“Help her do what?” Malvie laughs. “She’s been here a million times, Opal. She crashes on my couch at least one night a week. She can make her way up here with her eyes closed.”

I join in on the laughter. “I know, but she’s carrying something. It’s something for me.”

She stops slicing the tomato to glance my way again. “Something? What is it?”

My gaze trails over the Franzini’s T-shirt she’s wearing. It’s a gentle reminder of the Knight’s T-shirt I was wearing last night when William got me off with his hand in his kitchen.

I close my eyes, willing the memory to disappear. When I open them again, Malvie is a foot closer to where I’m standing. “Are you okay, Opal?”

“I’m fine,” I lie.