The bell over the door of Rosewood dinged, alerting me to the entrance of another customer. I smiled even as I lifted my face to greet the new arrival, only for my grin to stretch wider when I recognized him.
“Hey, it’s Cinderella.”
Ezra’s eyes narrowed as he strolled inside. “That’s still the lamest comeback ever.”
I shrugged. “Hey, if the shoe fits…” Then I pointed and started laughing at my own corny pun.
His glare was dry as dust. “You are so not amusing. I’m seriously thinking about sending my sister to a psychiatrist for falling for an idiot like you.”
“What can I say? Love doesn’t care about brain capacity.” Then I sent him a wink. “Which means there’s still hope for you too, buddy.”
He sighed. “Just tell me where my sister is.”
“I’m right here.” Isobel emerged from the door behind the counter that led into her workroom. “I could hear you two bickering all the way from the back.”
Nearly three months had passed since my mother’s funeral. It’d been enough time for all of Isobel’s roses to grow back and for her to build up the nerve to try reentering society again to open her business. What I hadn’t counted on was for her to suggest we turn Rosewood into a flower slash custom woodworking shop. Now, along with selling flowers, we built shelves and tables and other assorted woodworks customers requested.
We’d also cleaned out the rooms above the shop and turned it into an apartment where we were currently living together. Henry had grumbled about Isobel moving out, but honestly, we loved it. It might’ve been a step down for her—er, make that about fifty steps down—but it was pretty much happily ever after for the two of us together. I went to bed deliriously happy each night and woke up just as pleased, with Isobel secure in my arms. And from the grin she sent me every time our gazes met, I’d say she was just as content.
As soon as I saved enough money, I was buying her a ring and asking her to marry me.
“So, what’s going on?” Isobel asked as she stopped beside me and rested her cheek on my shoulder. I wrapped an arm around her waist, enjoying her warmth and proximity.
Ezra sighed as if dissatisfied with life, then he moodily picked a leaf off a nearby rose plant that was for sale. “Nothing,” he mumbled. “I just needed to see my little sister and de-stress.”
Isobel glanced worriedly at me before turning back to him. “The wicked witch…again?”
He rolled his eyes. “Always.”
“What’d she do this time?”
“What didn’t she do would be a better question.” He took a moment to watch me and Isobel together, his gaze lingering on my hand that stroked lazily up and down her arm. Then he blinked and focused on our faces. “You remember that Halloween party I wanted to throw for all my employees? The one that’s this weekend?”
Isobel and I nodded. He’d only mentioned it every time we talked to him for the past month.
“Yeah. Well, she called both the caterer and band, and canceled them. Just this morning.”
“What?” Isobel set a hand on her chest. “Oh my God, why would she do that?”
“Because she’s evil,” he enunciated. “Pure, unadulterated evil. It took me two hours to find a DJ and another caterer to replace them at the last minute. The party’s in three days. Three days! It cost me four times their regular rates to do a last-minute job like this.”
“Wow. That’s pretty cold,” I admitted.
“Cold!” he exploded. “It’s downright heartless. I can’t put up with her much longer. If I have to keep working with her, I’m just going to…” He shook his head and seemed to deflate. “I don’t even know. I want to throw my hands up and call it quits, have Dad sell out our portion of the company, but then I think of all the employees stuck there with her, and I can’t leave them to handle it alone. I almost think they need me there more than anyone else to keep battling her on their behalf.”
I lifted my brows at such a dramatic proclamation. Then I glanced at Isobel to see if I was the only one who thought he was being a little bit too intense. When I found her glancing back with her eyebrows raised, we both burst into laughter.
Ezra huffed and glared at us. “What?” he demanded.
“They need you?” Isobel repeated before snickering. “Wow, bro. We didn’t realize you were such a superhero. Should we buy you a cape and tights to go with that complex?”
“Oh, shut up,” he mumbled moodily, tugging at his tie. “If you worked there, you’d understand.”
Feeling pity for the guy, since he was clearly at the end of his rope, I patted his arm. “Don’t give up yet, man. I have a good feeling about this. If you stick it out just a little longer, I think you’ll realize it was worth the effort.” Because it usually was. I only had to glance toward Isobel to reaffirm that.
“I hope you’re right,” he said, even though he eyed me as if he totally disagreed.
Isobel opened her mouth to put in her opinion, but the bell above Rosewood dinged again, admitting a new customer.
Even though we’d only been open a month, the guy who entered was a regular. He always ordered three white roses and an apology note for us to deliver to his girlfriend, who worked down the street at the coffee shop.
The three of us hanging out at the counter watched him meander through the woodworking portion of the store first, checking out a quilt rack, then a wooden chessboard table. I have no idea why he always browsed that area before moving to the flowers when he bought the same thing every time he came in. I guessed some habits were hard to break.
“I think that customer’s for you, Hollander,” Ezra said quietly, motioning for me to approach the man and do my job.
But Isobel shook her head. “Nah. He’s here for some flowers.”
Her brother lifted his eyebrows. “Oh, you think, huh? Looks like he’s interested in the woodworking side to me.”
She blinked at him before sniffing. “He’s here for the flowers.”
Ezra narrowed his eyes. “I bet he’s not.”
“Oh, you are on,” Isobel hissed. “What’re the stakes?”
Ezra shrugged. “A grand?” he suggested, looking completely sure of himself.
I opened my mouth to warn him not to be so cocky, only to get Isobel’s elbow thrust in my side, shutting me up.
Then she wrinkled her nose at her brother. “Oh, no, no, no. It can’t be a monetary amount. That’s no fun. It has to be something humiliating or—ooh! I got it. If I win, I get to decide what costume you’re going to wear to your company’s Halloween party.”
Ezra sniffed. “Yeah, right. No dice.”
“Wow, you must really think you’re going to lose,” she taunted.
His eyes narrowed. “Fine. You’re on. And if I win, you have to work out here in the front—with all the customers—for a week straight.”
What Ezra didn’t know was that Isobel came out of the back quite frequently. At least once a day. And there was always a customer around when she did it. She was doing so well about not letting her scars hold her back any longer, she didn’t need her brother to prod her into the open.
But I kept my trap shut because I already knew my girl was going to win this bet. And she did too. She sent me a glance and we shared a brief knowing look before she turned back to Ezra. “Deal.”
He looked smug as he held out a hand for her to shake. But then Isobel looked pretty damn smug too.
Grinning, she turned to me. “So…what embarrassing outfit should we make him wear to the party?”
I smirked, catching Ezra’s eye. “Oh, I know the perfect costume for him.”
Cinderella’s face blanched when he realized exactly what I was thinking. “No,” he flat-out begged. “Please, God. No.
Which, to Isobel and me, meant oh hell, yes. This was going to be fun.
