“Alexa. You have another delivery up at the front.”
“Can you bring it back, Holly? I’m in the middle of something.”
I looked up as Holly rapped on my office door, which stood slightly ajar.
“These are gorgeous. Are the apology roses going to work?”
I waved my receptionist into the room and gestured for her to set the crystal vase on the cabinet in front of the window. The dozen crimson roses spiked with baby’s breath could only be from Adam.
“Thanks, Holly, but I’m pretty sure these aren’t from Graham.”
“No?” Holly gave me a sly smile.
“No. Dollars to donuts, they’re from Adam—the guy I met in London.”
“The one who was in town for the festival? I thought you and he were just friends.”
“I guess.” I rubbed the bridge of my nose, squeezing my eyes shut to forestall a growing headache
