Gaining Miles (Miles Family #5)(14)

“I’m not sure,” she said.

“That’s okay. I’ll ask Roland if he sent them. Actually, I’ll congratulate him if he did. They’re gorgeous, and what a sweet thing to do.”

I went back upstairs. Roland wasn’t in the office yet, so I sent him a text.

Me: Did you send Zoe flowers?

Roland: No, why?

That was odd.

Me: There are flowers on my desk but no card. The delivery person put them in the wrong place. I thought they might be for Zoe.

Roland: It wasn’t me. But why do you think they’re in the wrong place?

Me: They’re not for me.

Roland: How do you know?

Me: Who would send me flowers?

Roland: I don’t know, but if they’re on your desk…

Me: I’ll see if I can find the card.

My office smelled wonderful. It was too bad I couldn’t keep them. I wondered if this meant Jamie was seeing someone. She was our other events person, and as far as I knew, she was single. But perhaps she’d started dating someone. Whoever he was, he knew how to pick a lovely flower arrangement.

I checked around the vase again, but didn’t see a card. It wasn’t tucked in among the blooms either.

Finally, I found a little white envelope on the floor beneath my desk. I must have knocked it over when I’d gotten here—maybe when I’d taken off my coat. I picked it up, but there was no name on the outside. Just a little stamp with the florist’s logo.

I popped open the envelope and took out the crisp white card. Inside was one word, written in black ink. Shannon.

I stared at my name, penned in neat handwriting. The flowers were for me?

Turning the card over, I looked for another name. Peeked in the envelope in case I’d missed something. But there was no other signature. No indication who’d sent them.

Were they from one of my kids? It wasn’t my birthday. It wasn’t the anniversary of Salishan’s founding or any other milestone I could recall. We’d already celebrated my divorce. Why would one of them have sent me flowers?

Roland obviously hadn’t. He would have told me when I’d texted him. It wasn’t Cooper. He’d have bypassed a florist and made the arrangement himself. Could it have been Leo? Or Brynn? They didn’t seem likely either.

And these flowers weren’t the sort of thing someone would send their mother. They weren’t send-to-a-friend flowers, either, so I doubted it had been Naomi. A professional contact was possible—perhaps one of our vendors or a winery client. But they would have sent a more detailed note—and probably chosen a more business-appropriate arrangement.

These flowers weren’t friendly. They were romantic.

“Those are pretty.” Zoe’s voice behind me made me jump.

I put my hand to my chest. “You startled me. And yes, they are.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” Her eyes flicked to the flowers. “Who sent them?”

“I don’t know.” I narrowed my eyes. “But why do I think you do?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know.”

I wasn’t sure if she was saying she didn’t know who’d sent the flowers, or she didn’t know why I thought she knew.

“Zoe Miles, are you hiding something from me?”

“I didn’t send you the flowers,” she said.

“That’s not what I asked.”

She held up her wrist and looked down at it, but she wasn’t wearing a watch. “Look at the time. We have a wedding tonight, I need to get to work.”

I put my hands on my hips, but she turned and walked away. She did know something, which meant it had to be…

But he couldn’t have. Could he? It had to be a mistake.

And yet, the card said my name.

I had an unfamiliar fluttering in my tummy—a feeling I hadn’t experienced in years. Tracing my finger over the letters of my name, I dared to think it. Dared to let his name drift through my mind.

Had Benjamin Gaines sent me flowers?

The thought that it had been him left me a little breathless, and strangely giddy. I realized I was smiling, the card with my name dangling from my fingertips. I took a deep breath, inhaling the flowers’ fragrance. So beautiful. So thoughtful.

And it occurred to me in that moment how much I wanted it to be him.

Over the next few hours, I didn’t get much work done. I kept stopping to gaze at the flowers or getting up to peek downstairs to see if Ben was here.

I wondered if I should call him to say thank you. But what if he hadn’t sent the flowers? That would be awkward. And if he had sent them, why hadn’t he signed his name? Had the florist made a mistake, or had he done that on purpose?

Around noon I gave up trying to work and decided to go home for lunch. I left the flowers on my desk, shouldered my purse, and went downstairs.

The lobby was quiet, although it would get busier later when wedding guests arrived. I went out through the kitchen, where the caterer was already prepping for tonight’s event.

Outside was sunny and pleasant, the early spring air fragrant. A familiar voice caught my attention. Pausing, I glanced over my shoulder into the back garden.

Ben stood speaking to Roland. He pointed at one of the pear trees and said something I couldn’t quite hear. Roland nodded. Then Ben’s eyes moved to mine, our gazes locking. One corner of his mouth hooked upward in a small smile, and he winked at me.