“Okay,” Jenni crossed her arms across her blouse. “This doesn’t sound good.”

  “I have to check the date with…” Did she call Charlie her boyfriend? “I might have a wedding that day.”

  “Oh, you’re already booked?” Jenni seemed confused – and rightly so.

  “No, I think that I might be going to this wedding.” Emma laughed at the absurdity of the coincidence. “Is that going to be a problem?”

  Nine

  Part of Charlie was going to miss dealing with the mixed bag crowd at The Last Chance Tavern. There were the regulars that showed up after their shifts like clockwork, the ski crowd looking for an ‘authentic’ mountain town dive bar, and trashy local cougars like Stacy – who was currently leaning on the bar, miles of cleavage spilling out of her too-tight leopard print tank top. She had tried to go home with Charlie about a million times, but no matter how lonely he’d been, the hairspray and leathery tanning bed skin just weren’t his thing.

  “Two cosmopolitans,” he smiled and slid the cocktails across the bar. Stacy and her friend Pamela smiled, and he swore both of them winked simultaneously as they sipped their red drinks. Charlie cringed at the cakey lipstick marks on the glasses that he was going to have to scrub out by hand.

  “Thank you, Charlie,” Pamela singsonged. Hers was a two-pack a day smoker’s voice, a little huskier than Stacy’s.

  Charlie turned to empty the dishwasher, and the two women, the volume of their voices in direct correlation to the number of cocktails they’d had – four - started talking loudly. Charlie typically ignored the town gossip, but as soon as he heard ‘flower shop’, he started to pay attention.

  “Not going to last a month,” The huskier voice mused.

  Stacy snorted. “Who starts a flower shop in this economy?”

  Charlie refrained from rolling his eyes. Stacy worked at the Dollar Dollar Dollar Shop, and last he heard, Pamela didn’t work at all. “I heard that she cheated on her boyfriend and stole his money,” Pamela said.

  “No wonder she could afford that building.” Stacy shook her head. “That uppity bitch Billie Joe has priced everything so damn high in this town, she’s going to push out all the locals.”

  Charlie took a deep breath and pretended like he didn’t hear the two women bashing the girl he was dating or his friend, Charlotte – who used to be known as Billie Joe Bunkman. Emma hadn’t talked about her past relationship, but then again, neither had he.

  He dismissed the cheating rumor as just that, a rumor. It couldn’t be true, and there was no way that Emma would steal anyone’s money. Although, Charlie had to admit that he wasn’t the best judge of character in that department. He had moved to Chance Rapids with his girlfriend Karlie to snowboard and they had lived in his beat-up old Volkswagen van. Charlie shivered as he remembered the scene that had been burned into his brain. The day that his girlfriend had cheated on him. The curtains in the van’s window were closed and even as he reached for the handle, he knew that he shouldn’t be opening the door. He never forgot the way that his heart slammed into the bottom of his stomach when he saw Karlie in his bed with an Australian liftee. He couldn’t sleep in the bed without the vision of their rumpled hair, Karlie’s spread across the pillow, Aidan’s equally long beachy hair draped over his girlfriend’s tanned thighs. Charlie ended up burning the foam bed, along with all of her clothes when Karlie left town.

  “Ahem.” He heard the husky voice behind him, and shook his head, thankful to get the imagery out of his mind.

  He turned and Stacy was tapping her long index finger on the rim of the empty martini glass.

  “Another?” he asked.

  Stacy nodded and Pamela drained the last of hers and held up the empty glass. “Me too.”

  “These are interesting...” Stacy fingered the bouquet of ditch daisies that Emma had left on the counter for him.

  “Daisies,” Charlie shouted over the ice as he shook the silver cocktail mixer.

  “Weeds.” Stacy plucked out one of the petals and let it fall to the bar top.

  Charlie felt his cheeks redden. Yes, they were ditch daisies, but they meant a lot to him. Every time he looked at the simple arrangement, he thought about Emma and her slender fingers as she picked them from the side of the river this morning, before they left his house. “That’s in the eye of the beholder.”

  He poured the drinks and slid the glasses toward the tipsy women.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Pamela’s eyebrow was furrowed.

  “I was told that a weed is something you don’t want in your garden.” Charlie smiled, remembering Emma’s cute little saying.

  “A weed’s a weed,” Stacy scoffed. “Maybe you should go give that poor new florist some business. Or better yet, get some plastic ones. That way you don’t have to water ‘em.”

  Pamela laughed. “Fake plants are the best.” She took a sip of her drink. “Want to go for a smoke?”

  Stacy stood up. “Don’t slip anything into my drink while we’re out there.” She winked again and the two of them teetered as they tried to walk seductively up the stairs to the door.

  Charlie turned and resumed polishing the glassware, relieved that the two women were smokers, giving him a break from the small talk every time they left to go smoke cigarettes in the alley beside the bar.

  He heard the bar stool squeak and prepared himself to return to the small talk, but before he could turn around a male voice shouted, “What’s a guy got to do to get a beer around here?”

  Charlie didn’t have to turn to see who was there. He tossed the bar towel over his shoulder and reached into the beer cooler to pull out a bottle of his brother’s favorite beer.

  “Jason.” He slid the beer down the bar, expertly missing the puddles around the two sweating cosmopolitans. His brother grabbed the flying bottle with a flourish and took a huge gulp. Charlie came out from behind the bar and the two of them hugged, the cold of the beer bottle freezing his ear lobe as his older brother squeezed him tightly.

  “Chuckie got Lucky,” Charlie’s brother punched him on the arm. “Wow, where are the spaghetti arms?” He released his fingers from their fist and squeezed Charlie’s bicep.

  “Ha. Ha,” Charlie laughed. “They’re linguini arms now.” Where Charlie was tall, his brother Jason was stocky. Charlie’s childhood nicknames had always referenced something skinny, usually a string bean, or some kind of noodle arm.

  “Looks like someone else is getting bigger too.” He slapped his brother’s beer gut with the back of his hand and Jason practically spit out the sip of beer he had just taken. “That six-pack looks more like a keg.”

  “Enjoying life.” Jason patted his belly over his golf shirt.

  “What are you doing here?” Charlie asked and perched on the barstool beside Jason. He glanced at his only other table in the bar, the volunteer Search and Rescue crew. Satisfied that their pitchers were full, he knew he had at least another ten minutes before he had to do any refills.

  “What, I can’t just surprise my little brother?”

  Charlie raised his eyebrows. His brother never showed up unannounced. He hated staying at Charlie’s, and usually rented a house or stayed up in one of the suites at the ski resort. “Bahaha,” he guffawed and slapped Charlie’s arm again. “I’m here to check out some wedding stuff for Adam. You know, best man stuff.”

  “Right, that’s coming up soon,” Charlie rubbed his beard.

  “Yeah,” Jason replied. “The end of the month. Did you RSVP yet, you ass?”

  “I’m going to, but I need to talk to you about something first.” Charlie wanted to make sure that it was okay for him to bring a date to the wedding.

  One of the Search and Rescue guys approached the bar with empty pitchers in his hand and Charlie slid off the barstool. “Another round?” he asked, pretty much rhetorically. Ethan, the youngest SAR member flicked his shaggy hair and grinned. “What kind of question is that?”

  “Coming right up.” Charlie took the pitchers, slipped behind the bar, and refilled them. “Another?” he asked Jason.

  “Nah, I have an appointment with Adam’s wedding planner soon.” He checked his watch. They both squinted as the door to the tavern opened and Stacy and Pamela sashayed back into the tavern. They sidled up to the bar, both of them glancing sideways at Jason.

  “Maybe I do have time for one more.” Jason finished his drink and set it down heavily on the bar.

  Charlie popped the cap off the bottle and set it in front of his brother. He met his eyes and hoped he was conveying a brotherly, don’t even think about it with those skanks look.

  “Charlie,” Stacy purred. “Aren’t you going to introduce us to your friend?” The two women sat cross-legged, angling their cleavage towards the fresh meat in the bar, Jason.

  Charlie knew that introducing his horn dog brother to one of the town bicycles was a recipe for disaster. “Oh, trust me. You don’t want to know this guy,” he laughed.

  “Jason.” He thrust out his hand towards Pamela. As she shook it, Charlie could see her chest going beet red. “I’m the good-looking brother, Jason winked.

  “Brother?” Stacy leaned her elbow on the bar and rested her cheek on her knuckles. She looked from Charlie to Jason. “You two must have different fathers,” she slurred and pointed at both of them.

  They didn’t. And while Jason was the outgoing fun guy who was popular in high school, Charlie was the one with the looks.

  Stacy reached in front of Pamela; her fingers outstretched toward Jason. “Stacy.”

  “Pleasure to meet you, Stacy,” Jason shook her hand awkwardly in front of Pamela’s chest. “Can I buy you ladies another round? Looks like you’re almost ready for one.”

  “We were thinking shots,” Stacy said.

  “Shots it is.” Jason slapped his palm on the bar.

  “Didn’t you say you have to be somewhere?” Charlie didn’t move to pour any shots.

  Jason grinned at his brother. “Yeah. Here. And it’s wedding stuff, not rocket science, I don’t have to be sober.”

  Charlie rolled his eyes at his brother. He was going to kick himself when he saw how cute Jenni, the wedding planner was. She was like an expensive wine, and the two women he was about to get wasted drunk with were cooking sherry.

  “What’s your poison?” Jason drummed his hands on the edge of the bar and grinned widely at his new drinking buddies.

  “Polar bear?” Pamela seemed to be asking Stacy for her approval.

  “Nah, let’s go with something harder.” Stacy hadn’t taken her eyes off Jason.

  “Blow jobs?” Pamela tried again.

  It took every fiber of Charlie’s being not to roll his eyes.

  Stacy groaned loudly. “Hard, Pammy. Not creamy.” She held up three fingers. “Jack, straight up.”

  Charlie grabbed the whiskey and poured three shots, glancing at the window to see the glow of the sunset through the grimy stained-glass headers. It was his experience that whiskey shots in daylight hours never ended well. The three clinked the glasses together and drops of the potent liquor fell to the bar as they slammed back the shots, and then all three slammed the glasses on the bar. Jason winked at Charlie at the same time that Pamela screwed up her face and pounded her fist on her chest, all while Stacy wiped at the sides of her mouth with her thumb. She stared at Jason while she sucked an errant drop from her finger.

  The light from outside interrupted the trio and everyone’s eyes turned to check out who had just walked into the bar. Charlie crossed his arms and smiled, watching as Jenni looked around the bar, her giant padded folio held tightly to her chest.

  “Jenni,” Charlie shouted. Jenni waved and skipped down the steps to the bar.

  “Hi, Charlie. Do you know someone named…” she consulted her notes?

  “Jason Jones.” Jason practically ejected himself from the barstool.

  “Jason Jones,” She smiled. “I’m Jenni Angelson.” She shuffled the folio so she could shake Jason’s hand.

  “Can I get you something?” Charlie asked.

  “Would coffee be too much to ask? I’m on the clock,” Jenni replied and pointed to the space on her wrist where a watch would be.

  “Not at all. I’ll just put on a fresh pot. Jason?”

  “Coffee for me too. We have important wedding business to discuss.”

  “You’re getting married?” Stacy’s voice was shrill.

  “God no. Not me,” Jason laughed. “I’m the best man.”

  She seemed to breathe a sigh of relief.

  “Shall we?” Jason gestured to the main room of the bar and Stacy and Pamela glowered as their potential one-night stand abandoned them. Charlie looked on with disapproval as his brother directed Jenni, his hand on her lower back, to a table in the corner.

  Charlie pulled his phone out of the pocket of his leather apron and clicked on the new messages, an involuntary smile gracing the corner of his lips when he saw Emma’s name in his inbox. In the past two days, the two of them had texted what he would call the perfect amount. There were no games between the two of them, he never held off on replying to her, and neither did she. He felt like he was in the first grown-up relationship he’d ever had.

  Emma had sent three photos. The first was of the finished drywall in her shop, the second was of some paint swatches taped to the wall, the third, she was holding a paintbrush and wearing her hair in two Heidi braids. She was wearing a tight white tank top underneath jean overalls. There was something about a woman with paint on her clothes and work gloves on her hands that gave him a bit of a stiffy.

  “What do you think?” her message read. He knew that she was asking about the paint colors. He smiled and texted back, “I’ll have to see it in person.”

  “I’ll be painting late, drop by after your shift.”

  He was about to reply when there was a knock on the bar. “Hello, am I going to have to hop over and make my own damn drink?”

  He sent Emma a thumbs-up emoji and tucked the phone back into his pocket. The women were about two drinks away from being cut off and it couldn’t happen soon enough.

  “Texting your girlfriend?” Stacy slurred. “One more cosmo,” she barked.

  “Actually, yes I was.” Charlie had had enough.

  “I didn’t think you had a girlfriend.” Pamela’s eyes were as wide as one’s can be after five cosmos and a shot of whiskey.

  Stacy narrowed her eyes at him. “Who?”

  He should have kept it to himself, but he wanted to shout it from the rooftops. “Her name is Emma. She owns the new flower shop in town.”

  The two women glanced at each other as he poured the red liquid into the glasses. He knew that they were wondering if he’d overheard their gossip. He didn’t give a shit.

  “Oh,” Pamela whispered.

  Stacy didn’t miss a catty beat. “Is that where the weed bouquet came from?” As if to punctuate her point she plucked a daisy from the vase and tucked it behind her ear, the white getting lost amongst the crispy bleached strands. “If so, she’s never gonna last in this town.”

  Charlie wanted to tell her off, but years of bartending had taught him how to deal with surly drunks and insulting them was never a good idea. “I like daisies. That looks nice on you.” Charlie adjusted the bouquet and pointed to the flower behind her ear.

  Stacy’s snarl faltered and her eyes flittered with the compliment, her fingertips subconsciously reaching for the flower. “I suppose it’s got a folksy look to it.” She drained her cosmo and leaned on the bar, curling her finger for Charlie to lean in. When he didn’t, she leaned even closer, “Charlie, you be careful. I’ve heard bad things about that girl.”

  “Thanks for looking out for me, Stacy,” he smiled. She settled back onto her barstool, a smug smile on her face as if she had done Charlie a huge favor. But Charlie was smiling at the irony of the town tramp warning him about the sweetest woman he had ever known.

  He left the bar and the two women to check on the Search and Rescue guys. When he returned, Jason was back at the bar. He glanced around the room and saw Jenni leaving. She waved and he did the same.

  “Now,” Jason said, settling onto the barstool beside Stacy, he had clearly picked his favorite out of the two of them. “Where were we?”

  Ten

  The key was in the door to the tavern and Charlie’s mind was already racing to the moment when he’d see Emma again. He hoped that he could catch a glimpse of her painting without her knowing. He knew that he had to get working on his project, but tonight, he’d pick up a paintbrush and help Emma.

  His phone buzzed, and his heart skipped a beat. They were still so new and every time she called or texted, he got a little hit of dopamine. He narrowed his lips when he saw Jason’s name on the screen instead of Emma’s.

  ‘Hello?’

  There was only silence. Charlie stopped pedaling and put his feet on the ground to hold the phone. “Jason,” he shouted.

  “Charlie,” Jason’s voice slurred on the other end. “You’ve gotta come and get me.”

  “Why? What’s going on?”

  He was met with more silence. “Jason. Where are you?”

  “The police station.”

  “What?” Charlie shook his head. His brother had been in town for less than six hours and had already managed to get arrested. “What did you do?”

  “I’ll tell you when you get here.”

  “Jason, are you okay?”

  “Just get here, little bro.”

  “I’m on my way. Wait there.”

  “I don’t think I’m going anywhere,” Jason chuckled.

  “You know what I mean,” Charlie barked into the phone. He ended the call and dropped the phone into his backpack. He could see the glow of the light from the flower shop on the sidewalk ahead of him. Emma was so close, but his brother was in trouble. He pursed his lips and turned the bike away from downtown and pedaled as fast as he could to the police station.

  “Charlie,” Officer Augusta nodded as he stepped into the fluorescent light of the small-town precinct.