A Savannah Christmas Wish. Nan Dixon
looks fabulous.” Suzie came down the hill. Her shorts and shirt were blinding white. She handed Bess and Molly dripping bottles. “Here you go, ladies.”
Bess took the lemonade. “Thanks.”
“Now that the plants and koi are in, are there additional instructions for the pond?” Suzie asked.
Bess walked her through the care, then handed her the notes she’d printed out for Suzie’s gardening service. “Give this to Leon. He’ll know what to do.”
“Wonderful.” Suzie pointed to her neighbor’s backyard. “What do you think Minnie will do now?”
“Not sure.” Bess hadn’t designed Minnie’s landscaping. “Since you’ve added the pond, I’ve got another idea.”
Bess pulled out her phone and scrolled to pictures of decorative gas fires. The ones she showed Suzie had lines of fire in front of rock waterfalls. “What do you think of adding a fire wall?”
“Ooh. I like.” Suzie tapped her French-tipped nail against the screen. “Where would you put it?”
Bess moved to the back of the terraced yard. “The waterfall would look great here.”
“I’ll think about it.” Suzie handed Bess the check for the pond’s last installment and an envelope. “I appreciate all your work.”
Bess and Molly loaded the truck. As she drove back to King’s Gardens, Bess asked, “What’s in the envelope?”
There was a rip and a gasp. “Two hundred dollars. Cash!”
“I know what I’ll buy with my share of our tip.” Bess smiled. “I’ve been eyeing some Pakchong blue orchids that are the perfect color for my mamma’s wedding.”
Mamma’s wedding was next weekend. Bess needed to finalize the flower arrangements and decorating soon. She rubbed her hand in her hair, and mud flakes dropped in her lap. Yuck.
“I’ve got my eye on a pair of shoes.” Molly tucked her tip into her pocket. “You need a love life, my friend.”
Love life? Between her job and Fitzgerald House, love wasn’t high on her priority list. “I don’t need the hassle.” Or the eventual loss.
Bess parked the truck and waved to Molly. She smiled as she dropped the check off with her boss.
“Thanks.” Cade set the check in the middle of his paper-piled desk. “Do you have a minute?”
“Sure.” There wasn’t room for two people in his office, so Bess leaned against the doorway. She scratched at the dried mud on her elbow.
Cade stared at the desk. “I...I have to let you go.”
Every muscle in her body froze. “What?” she choked out.
“I can’t afford to have two landscape designers on staff.”
“You’re...you’re firing me?” Her voice squeaked.
Cade sighed. “I guess I’m laying you off.”
“Jimmy just graduated.” She’d helped the kid get his feet on the ground. “Your son’s not ready to take on all the landscaping.”
Cade’s lips flattened into straight lines. “This is the way it has to be.”
“I can drum up more business. If you advertise, we’d attract more customers.” The words shot out of her mouth like BBs from a pellet gun.
He shook his head. Cade was brilliant with retail plants and flowers but hated marketing. “Between two years of droughts and the cold, wet spring, I can’t afford you.”
She couldn’t lose her job. “What about our arrangement on my flower-design business?” she whispered.
“I hope you’ll keep getting your flowers through me.” Cade pulled on his white hair. “You can still use the workroom and coolers.”
She paced in the hallway, fighting back the urge to tell Cade to shove it. Being impulsive had gotten her into too much trouble in her life.
“Do you—” her voice cracked “—want me to clean out my stuff?”
“I can give you two weeks.” Cade pushed out of his chair. It groaned as he stood. “How would that be?”
Two weeks. “I guess.”
This job had been perfect for her. She’d been able to juggle her hours at the B and B with her hours at King’s Gardens. Cade had also let her run her wedding-flower business from his shop. How would she find another boss so flexible?
Two more weeks of a job she loved. Her pulse pounded in her ears. “Let me help with the marketing.”
He let out a big exhale. “I’m sorry.”
This always happened to her. If she loved something, it was wrenched from her hands. She knew better than to fall for people or things.
How many examples did she need? She’d lost Papa first. Then her just-remodeled bedroom was the first room used for the B and B. And of course there’d been Daniel. At seventeen she’d loved him as only a teenager could. She gulped. He’d rejected her. Following that disaster had been her ex-boyfriend and their business. Now this job.
Driving home, she chewed her thumbnail. She’d been fired. Fired. On autopilot, she parked behind her building and grabbed the mail on the way to her third-floor apartment.
Tossing envelopes and catalogs on the table, she stripped. Her clothes hit the overflowing pile in her closet. After a quick shower, she threw on shorts and a tank top.
What would she do now? She ripped a hand through her wet hair. With slumped shoulders, she filled her sprayer and moved around the apartment, spritzing her orchids.
The dendrobium orchids were opening. Maybe she’d work the snow-white flowers into a table arrangement for Mamma’s wedding. If her Black Caesar cattleya would bloom, she’d add the ruffled rich fuchsia blossoms to her mother’s wedding flowers.
Grabbing the mail, she flopped onto the chaise on her tiny balcony and stared at the ripening tomatoes. She could eat one or two for dinner. But she didn’t move.
Voices and laughter carried from the street. How could people be happy?
The doorbell buzzed. Bess forced herself to the door and peered through the peephole.
Daniel? She pressed a hand to her stomach. She hated that her tummy flopped every time she saw him.
She opened the door. “Collecting rent in person?”
He shook his head. “Got a minute?”
She nodded, not opening the door any farther.
He rolled his eyes.
Back when she was a stupid teenager, his deep brown eyes had filled her dreams. She used to scribble his name all over her notebook and practiced writing Bess Forester.
“Will you let me in?” Irritation filled his voice.
She huffed out a sigh, opening the door. He walked by and she caught a whiff of his sandalwood scent. Her stomach clenched. He’d worn the same cologne ten years ago.
“Want something to drink?” She tugged on her tank top, wishing she wasn’t wearing her oldest and rattiest clothes. “I might have a couple of beers.”
Daniel rubbed his head, as if he had to think about this.
“If we have a beer together, I’m not going to rip off your clothes.” That had taken her a lot more beers ten years ago.
He frowned, as though he could hear her thoughts. “I guess a beer would be okay.”
She pointed to her balcony. “Grab a chair.”
“I don’t know how you live