Heartsville 05 - Bloom Box (Cate Ashwood) (2 page)

Milo shrugged. “But I’ll be inside. Besides, it’s not that cold.”

He handed one of the cups to Will as he walked inside before promptly tripping over a loose shoelace and pitching forward, spilling his coffee all over the floor and himself in the process.

“Goddammit!” Milo cried, thrusting his hands forward to catch himself on the counter before he could fall all the way to the floor.

“Are you okay?” Will asked, rushing over to him.

Milo stood and held his stained shirt out from his body. He was soaked. “Yeah, I’m fine. A little damp and a lot embarrassed, but I’ll live. Sorry about the cursing. Not a very good way to start off my first day at a new job, I guess.”

Will was aware of just how damp Milo was. Through the clinginess of the wet fabric, Will could see the definition of Milo’s muscles as he brushed himself off, the coffee stains setting into the soft gray T-shirt he wore. It took a moment for Will to gather his wits, distracted by the sight before him.

“Colorful language doesn’t bother me. As long as you watch your mouth in front of the customers—assuming we ever have any—I don’t care if you swear like a sailor around here.”

“I should be able to manage that. My two left feet, on the other hand, I’m afraid are a recurrent problem. My dad always joked that it was how he knew I was his kid. I inherited my penchant for klutziness from him. I could never seem to avoid accidents, and the running joke in my family is that I can take any object and make it dangerous.”

“We’ll keep you away from the sharp stuff, then,” Will said, inexplicably charmed by the man in front of him.

Milo laughed. “Deal.”

“Do you want to borrow a shirt that isn’t quite as… soggy?” Will asked, his mind dipping momentarily into an image of Milo peeling his wet shirt from his body and over his head.

“No, thanks. It’ll dry. I’m guessing we’re going to be working on getting this place set up, and I’ll likely be getting a bit dirty anyway. I should be fine in this. Unless you’d rather I didn’t walk around looking like I tie-dyed my shirt in latte.”

“No, as long as you’re not uncomfortable.”

“I’m okay.” Milo looked around the room. “What’s on the agenda for today?”

“Honestly, I’m not sure where to start. I think most of the equipment and supplies have been ordered. There are a ton of boxes in the back, but I haven’t even had a chance to look in them yet,” Will lied. He’d had plenty of opportunity, but the thought of tackling the business that should have been Spencer’s left him cold.

“That sounds like a good project to take on first, then.”

Will led Milo into the back where the cardboard mountain towered almost as high as he was tall.

“Here it is. Should we get started?”

“Yep. Do you have a box cutter?” Milo asked.

“Oh no. We just talked about this. No sharp objects for you.”

Milo rolled his eyes dramatically. “I’ll be careful, I promise. I’m not a kid.”

“Fine, but I’m not taking you to the ER if you slice your hand open.”

Will handed Milo the box cutter, and he picked up a pair of scissors, which he used to slice through the tape holding the first box closed.

“Looks like vases in here,” Will said, rearranging the bubble paper wrapping them.

“Here too,” Milo said, holding up an identical vessel to the ones in Will’s box.

The next three boxes they opened all contained the same rounded vases.

“I don’t want to count my chickens,” Milo said, “but it looks like they’re all going to be the same. The boxes are all the same size, and the barcodes on the stickers all match.”

“How many did he order?” Will muttered. The question was rhetorical. The answer was staring him in the face. So they had vases. Hundreds of them. And nothing else. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. Spencer was never a planner.”

The name tasted bitter in his mouth, and he knew that bitterness was likely audible when he spoke. To Milo’s credit, if he noticed, he didn’t comment on it.

“Spencer was your business partner?”

“Sort of….”

Milo’s eyebrows lifted as the unspoken end of the sentence sunk in.

Will sighed. “This was supposed to be his place. I left it in his hands, and he was getting everything together for the grand opening… but he… he’s gone.” It was the first time Will admitted it out loud, and he was proud of himself for not letting his voice waver as he spoke those words that held such finality.

“Goddammit!” Milo cried.

Will was momentarily confused until he followed Milo’s line of sight and saw the stripe of red as blood seeped from the wound on Milo’s hand.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Milo said, bringing his hand to his mouth and sucking the blood from the cut. “I wasn’t watching what I was doing.”

“It’s okay. Let me help you,” Will said, leading Milo over to the sink where he tore off a few sheets of paper towel.

“Give me your hand.”

Milo lifted his hurt hand, watching Will intently as Will examined the cut.

“It doesn’t look too deep,” Will concluded, pushing down the urge to stroke Milo’s palm with his thumb before dabbing away the blood that had beaded up. He held Milo’s hand under the stream of water, gently cleaning the wound.

“Shit, that stings.”

“Yeah, but you don’t want it getting infected. If it was bad enough, they’d have to amputate, and you’re clumsy enough with two hands. Imagine if you only had one,” Will said as he applied a clean bandage.

“You only need one for the important stuff,” Milo said.

Will’s head snapped up and he searched Milo’s face to see if Milo meant those words as Will had interpreted them. A heavy blush set in the longer Will considered it.

“Am I good?” Milo asked.

It took a moment too long for Will to realize he was still holding Milo’s hand. Awkwardly, he dropped his own hands away.

“Yeah. Sorry. I think I have Band-Aids upstairs somewhere.”

“I think I’ll live. It’s already stopped bleeding.” Milo paused and looked around. “We can fix this.”

“Fix this?”

“Your situation with the shop. Do you have a computer here yet?”

“Just my laptop.”

“Can you grab it? We’ll make a list of everything you need and we can get it all ordered today. How long do we have before the grand opening is supposed to happen?”

“Three weeks.”

Milo drew his bottom lip into his mouth and bit down gently, clearly doing mental calculations on just how screwed Will was. Despite the situation he was in, Will hadn’t felt this okay since before Spencer left. His financial apocalypse was looming, but he had this strange sense of optimism that things might not be as dire as he thought, in spite of all evidence pointing to utter failure.

“I’ll get the computer,” Will said, turning toward the stairs that would take him up to his apartment.

He returned a few minutes later with his laptop tucked under his arm. He followed Milo into the main space of the shop and sat down against the wall. Milo slid down to the floor and sat next to him. They were incredibly close, much closer than Will would have dared sit. Milo’s shoulder pressed against his, solid and warm, and it felt so good to be touched. He hadn’t had physical contact like this since Spencer left. Will resisted the impulse to lean farther into him, instead placing his computer on his lap, then opening it before starting it up.

It didn’t take long for Windows to launch, and a moment later, he was staring at a photo of himself and Spencer—sunburnt and smiling—taken on their anniversary trip together to Puerto Vallarta. He should have replaced the wallpaper weeks ago, but he couldn’t seem to part with that last remnant of good memories he had of Spencer. They’d had so much fun together for those few days at the resort. It had only been a couple of weeks before the text had come through, and now that Will thought about it, he realized Spencer had been cheating on him well before that trip ever happened.

Will felt like he was going to puke as the realization churned the acid in his belly. He swallowed hard, pushing down the nauseous feelings and concentrating on the task at hand. He opened his browser and felt the relief wash over him as the image of Spencer’s smiling face was replaced with Google’s minimalistic page.

“He’s a dick for leaving,” Milo said, almost gently. “Unless you left him, in which case, I’m sure he deserved it. Or… oh God… he didn’t die, did he? Oh God, I am so sorry. I should think before I open my mouth. Really. It’s my worst quality. Not that I’m not capable of thinking before I speak—a quality that would be desirable in an employee—but sometimes my mouth gets ahead of my brain and things come out that shouldn’t. Jesus, I’m sorry.”

Will chuckled, the mood effectively lightened by what Will was coming to recognize as Milo’s innate ability to flail and ramble for no good reason. It was endearing. Adorable, really. Will couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face at Milo’s stammering.

“No, you were right the first time. He left.”

“Well, then, my statement stands. He’s a dick. Now let’s fix his mess and get your shop up and running.”

Milo instructed Will on where exactly he needed to navigate in order to find the things he would need for his first week in business. The more Will sifted through the websites, the more grateful he became that Milo had done this before. He was able to point Will in the direction of a website that had reasonable prices and didn’t require huge minimum orders. They were able to place an order for just enough supplies to carry them through the grand opening and a month or so after.

Once the revenue started rolling in, they could reorder as many supplies as they needed. Will couldn’t believe the things Milo suggested to add to the list. In his mind, a flower shop needed a small number of things: flowers, ribbon, paper, and vases—and the vases were more than accounted for. It turned out he’d need a lot more than that.

As Will added item after item to his virtual cart, Milo’s voice became more animated as he began describing the different products they could offer their yet-fictional customers. He jumped up from where he was sitting propped against the wall and began to pace back and forth in front of Will.

“Obviously, the cut flowers are going to be the majority of your business, but most people don’t realize what a great investment plants are. Yeah, you have to make sure they’re cared for, but they last way longer on your shelves and in your customers’ homes. They’re becoming more popular, too, especially dish gardens. We could do a whole wall of them over here,” Milo said, gesturing in large motions toward the wall Will was leaning against.

“That all sounds great,” Will said, feeling a bit overwhelmed. He had no idea what a dish garden was, but if it lasted longer than a cut flower, Milo was right. It probably was a good investment.

“Speaking of displays… do you have anything other than the fridges?” Milo asked.

“No. We ordered the fridges when we moved in. They were delivered the same time as the boxes, but other than that, what you see in here is all we have.”

“Sounds like we get to make a trip to IKEA,” Milo said excitedly.

Will groaned. The last time he’d been to that store was when he and Spencer had moved into their house. They’d gone there in search of furniture for their new home. Will remembered being excited looking at each of the pieces: the dining room table where they would have Christmas dinner, the couch they would cuddle up on watching movies, the bed where a lot more memories would be made…. None of that had happened, and instead he was left with a house full of regret he sold for less than it was worth, just to be rid of it.

“Don’t tell me you don’t like IKEA. Everyone likes IKEA.”

“I don’t like shopping. Period. The crowds. The business. The picking out of things,” Will said, avoiding mentioning the real reason he didn’t want to go.

Milo laughed. “It’ll be an easy one. There’s only a few things we need. Mainly shelving. Beyond that, we’ve ordered pretty much everything else. We can stop at the hardware store on the way back and buy paint for the walls… unless you have that already.”

“I don’t have paint yet, so I’ll add that to the list. It’s getting a bit late today, but maybe we can head out there first thing tomorrow morning?”

“Sure. Do you want to take my truck? I don’t know what kind of vehicle you own, but a truck is always easier when buying furniture.”

“That’s really nice of you,” Will said, grateful all over again. He stood up from the floor, suppressing a groan as his joints protested. Fuck, getting older sucked. He crossed the barren room to the counter and pulled open the top drawer. Retrieving the little ring from the dish inside, he held it out to Milo. “Keys for you, since you’re a full-fledged employee now.”

“That’s awfully trusting of you, isn’t it?” Milo asked. “You’ve only known me a day.”

“Very true, but what are you going to steal?” Will asked, laughing to himself as he looked around the empty room. “Besides, I have a good feeling about you.”

“I have a good feeling about you too,” Milo said. Will’s stomach jumped, not just at the words but the manner in which they were spoken. He knew he had to be imagining the way Milo’s voice lowered, but his body reacted just the same.