Every part of me wanted to say no.
“I’ll do it,” I said.
A few hours later, I was arranging flowers at a reception venue I’d never worked at before when I saw a familiar woman near the entrance.
Colleen.
For a second, I thought grief was playing another trick on me.
Then she turned slightly.
It was definitely her.
I almost called out to her.
Then she saw me.
Her expression shifted from neither sadness nor surprise into something resembling fear.
She immediately turned away and disappeared down a side hallway.
That was strange.
Colleen and I hadn’t spoken much since Adrian died, but why would she hide from me?
I followed her.
“Colleen?”
She stopped.
For a second, she just stared at me.
“Meredith?”
“What exactly are you doing here right now?”
She looked nervous.
“I could ask you the same thing.”
“I’m working. I’m the florist.”
“Here?”
“Yes. Why?”
Before she could answer, a wedding coordinator hurried toward us.
“Ms. Colleen, we’ve been looking everywhere for you. The groom needs his mother.”
