Page 63 of After We Fall (After We Fall 2)
Over the blooms, her matching eyes glittered. “Good.”
“The color matches your eyes. That’s why I chose them.”
She lowered the bouquet and looked at me in surprise, her cheeks going pink. Her mouth opened slightly like she might say something, but then she closed it again.
Looking at her, my heart started to beat a little too quickly for comfort, so I checked my watch and saw it was coming up on three. “Market’s about to open up. You ready?”
“Yes.” Smiling, she set the bouquet gently under the table and stood. “What should I do?”
“Don’t let them walk away without buying something.” I straightened up, my joints cracking.
She grinned. “Easy peasy. I could sell water to a drowning man, remember?”
“I remember,” I said. “And I’m counting on it.”
She gave me a thumbs up as a few people approached the stand. I watched her charm them, smiled and shook hands when she introduced me, and gave her a high five after they left with a bag full of eggs and vegetables.
It happened again and again.
Margot was a natural. People were drawn to her. They listened to her. Talked to her. No wonder she was so good at her job—she was beautiful and sweet and sincere. People wanted to please her. And I could tell she’d done her research on sustainable farming and the benefits of organic eating. She even dazzled me with her knowledge, especially because I knew she’d acquired it in such a short time. She was smart. And was she really doing all this for free?
“This is awesome,” I told her. “I just have to stand here and take money while you do the work.”
“Don’t be silly, this is nothing. You do the hard work growing everything! Honestly, I can’t believe I never thought about where my food was coming from before, or what was on it.” She blinked those blue eyes at me. “I’m in awe of what you do. Plus, I think this is fun!”
She turned her attention toward the next customers, and I couldn’t resist catching her around the waist from behind. “Careful, city girl. I’ll want to keep you.”
She laughed as I let her go.
But the scary thing was, I was only half joking.
Twenty-Four
Margot
After the market closed and we’d loaded the truck, Jack wanted to take me out for dinner to thank me for working today. I told him it wasn’t necessary, that I’d truly enjoyed myself, but he insisted. I think he still felt bad about the little blow-up, too, although he didn’t mention it again.
I still felt bad about it. I’d only been trying to reassure him that he was good enough for Steph and deserved to be happy, but I shouldn’t have pushed like that. He’d asked me to drop it. It was so sad, though—why did he think he d
idn’t deserve to be happy? I’d never heard anyone talk about himself that way. It made my heart ache.
After he’d left me at the table, I’d felt like crying. Here I’d practically forced him to come to the market, something he used to do with his wife, and he’d run into her sister, which had dragged up painful memories, and then I’d made it worse by digging where I didn’t belong.
And what an asshole I was, offering platitudes like money doesn’t buy happiness!
How could I compare my situation, which was probably just boredom, to his tragic loss? What a spoiled brat I was, complaining about “something missing” from my life. I’d never wanted for anything. God, I wanted to kick myself! I could just imagine how that sounded to someone like Jack, who knew what it was to fight and struggle and suffer. What did I know about any of those things?
And his apology was so sweet. I’d gotten roses from Tripp before, but he’d always had them delivered. And while I appreciated the classic formality of the gesture as much as any woman, there was something so endearing and personal about the way Jack had handed me the bouquet today. The way he wanted to take the blame. The way he hunched down next to me and offered the flowers. The way he’d chosen them because they matched my eyes. It meant something to me.
He meant something to me. I just wasn’t sure what.
He never did go over and say hello to Steph’s mother, which I was glad about. I believed in social niceties, but after seeing the way Suzanne had acted toward me, I didn’t feel he owed her any favors. She’d made things uncomfortable for him when she could just as easily have been nice. After all, I was no threat to her sister’s memory. I just wanted to make him smile and laugh and feel good, even if it was only for a little while.
“I know a place you’ll like in town,” he said as we left the parking lot.
“And how do you know I’ll like it?”
“Because it has things on the menu like charcuterie and fromage and craft cocktails.” He put his pinkie in the air. “Very chic.”
