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“I need some violet roses,” I say aloud. “Two dozen. Can you call around and see if any floral boutique can handle an order like that this morning?”

“Are they for Scout?” she asks.

I know she’s fishing for information, but I won’t play into that, so I nod without confirming it audibly. I hate fucking lying to her, so I amend my request, “I’d like a dozen pink roses too.”

Those are Scout’s favorites. Since the auction house she works at is on my way to Opal’s bar, I’ll grab a rideshare and have them quickly stop there. I’ll leave the pink roses at the front desk for Scout. Brightening her day can’t hurt. I need all the good karma I can get today.

“I’ll get right on it.” She rounds her desk. “I’m going to go out on a limb here and assume some asshole broke your sister’s heart. If that’s the case, ice cream is the cure all. Preferably something with cookie pieces and caramel syrup to top it all off.”

I smile. “Good to know.”

“Do you want these roses delivered or…”

“No,” I interrupt. “Let me know when you find a florist who can fulfill the order. I’ll pick them up and cancel my meetings for today. Shift them to tomorrow or whenever the clients have time.”

“Will do.” She offers me a brisk nod. “I can walk and talk on the phone at the same time, so I’m going to run to get you a coffee.”

It’s something I’ve never asked of any of the women I work with, so I start to shake my head.

“I insist,” she says in a firm tone. “You need it. I can tell. I’ll be back in a flash.”

As soon as she’s out of the office, I pull up Opal’s contact information on my phone and call her. It goes straight to voicemail, so I leave a message that doesn’t convey what I really want to say, “Hey. It’s William. Give me a call back when you get a chance.” I contemplate ending it there but then add a few more words, “I have a surprise for you. I’ll stop by the bar with it in an hour or two.”

I end the call and stare at my phone’s screen.

This is it. Today’s the day I tell Opal how I ended up on the sidewalk outside of her bar on the day she spilled Dicey Dip on me. I also need her to know that I’m a resident of Tribeca, not Brooklyn.

I can’t expect her to trust me with her heart if she can’t trust me to tell her the truth about everything, so this is my day of confession.

I pray it ends with her in my life forever.

53

Opal

I don’t bother listeningto the voicemail William left ten minutes ago because I have nothing to say to him right now. It’s the same reason why I ignored his text messages overnight.

I somehow managed to keep myself together during the dinner celebration for Malvie. I did shed a couple of tears when Posey made a toast to my cousin. Those tears had nothing to do with everything Malvie’s accomplished in her career.

They were tears of grief for what could have been between William and me.

I glance at Chelsie when she calls out my name. Since this is already my third coffee of the day, I practically bolt up from the table I’ve been sitting at to grab the fresh cup.

As I approach the barista counter, Chelsie shakes her head. “I would have given you a free refill, but I was in the back doing inventory. The next cup is on the house.”

I’d tell her there won’t be a next cup, but I can’t say for sure. The coffee is the only thing getting me through my day. Soon, I’ll need to head back to the bar to dive into work. I was there this morning, but it was only to toss out the roses William gave me. I washed out the vase and put it in the back room, hoping Myra or Bristol will take it home.

When Myra showed up at the bar to take care of a few things, I left with the excuse that I needed coffee. I didn’t have the energy for small talk.

I just need a few more minutes alone to think about what might have been before I’m thrust back into a reality that includes telling William I want nothing to do with him.

“Is that another piece courtesy of the former renter?” Chelsie points at the gray sweater I’m wearing. “I love it.”

“This one is mine,” I say. “I’ve had it forever.”

At least, it feels that way. My mom gave it to me when I was a senior in high school. It’s cashmere, and although I didn’t ask for a sweater like this for my birthday, she decided I needed one. It wasn’t my favorite at first, but I’ve come to love it for many reasons, including the fact that it reminds me of a time in my life when I thought nothing could go wrong.

That feeling lasted until everything did go wrong.