Bookish by Olivia Hawthorne, Olivia Long Read Free Book Online Page B

at some point and putting them in my purse.
    I skipped down the stairs and found them on the top of a mess of receipts and old menus for restaurants I’d never dine at and brochures for places I’d never visit. I have a problem, I just can’t say no when those sad looking people are standing on the street handing them out.
    “Are you up?” Auntie Abby yelled from the kitchen. I’d been hoping to escape without facing her, terrified she’d be able to suss out what I’d been up to.
    “Yeah,” I replied and slipped my comfy flats on my feet. After yesterday’s heels, my soles were happy. “I’m heading out, to see Chloe.”
    “I need to talk to you,” she called, “come in here.”
    I gulped, cleared my throat and considered bolting. She must have seen us last night, parked in front like love struck kids. God, I was an idiot. A drunken idiot. Why hadn’t I insisted on going to his place?
    His little speech about fucking me rang in my ears and I gulped again. That’s right, that’s why. He said he wanted to have sex with me, but make it meaningful.
    Either a load of crap, or the most ridiculously romantic thing a guy’s ever said to a girl.
    I decided to take my chops and headed to face her.
    Before I got into the kitchen, the smell struck me. Generally our place had kind of an, ‘old cat box, ancient furniture, never aired out because the cats would escape from open windows’ odour.
    I smelled flowers, fresh and lovely. Like the inside of a bridal boutique. Had Auntie Abby been spraying that dollar store air freshener again? I swore she’d give us both cancer with that shit.
    I was wrong; it was the smell of flowers, hundreds of them. The entire kitchen was filled with beautiful bouquets of all shapes and sizes. There had to be at least a hundred red roses, Lilies, Orchids, daisies…every type I could possibly imagine.
    “What?” I asked, my mouth hanging open.
    “I was hoping you could tell me,” Auntie Abby said, her eye twinkling in mirth. “I believe you have impressed some young man, my dear.”
    Auntie Abby wasn’t that old, she was my mother’s older sister and was fifty-three. She was from the old world, as she said, having been born in Budapest. She didn’t have much of an accent, but ever since she was in her thirties, she acted like an old woman. Even before my parents were gone, she had been showing signs of her bohemian lifestyle, wearing babushkas and brightly printed skirts that flowed around her and spun out when she turned.
    She felt more like a grandmother to me though; I think my parent’s death had contributed to it too. Taking on my care and feeding had also done it, having to settle down in one spot and devote herself to me…and then her cats.
    She made me laugh though, her take on it all. Had I impressed some young man?
    “It seems that way,” I said, “was there a card? Maybe they’re for you. I’ve seen the way Mr. Anderson checks you out when you’re bent over trimming your roses.”
    “Oh pshhhh,” she hissed and giggled like a schoolgirl. Her long, thick, grey hair was in a loose bun on her head and she was without babushka today. The flowers had moved her, you could see it in how light her smile was, how quick she was to smile.
    For that alone I thanked Isaac, for I was certain they were from him.
    “There was a card though,” she confessed and reached into some pocket on her long skirt, pulled it out and handed it to me. “I may have read it…accidentally. This Isaac fellow sounds like a real peach.”
    “That he is,” I replied and read the card.
    It said: “Aubrey, I am utterly delighted and overjoyed to have made your acquaintance. Please do me the honour of joining me for dinner this evening at six. I will pick you up.
    PS Excuse all the flowers, I know we went over a lot of things last night, but favourite flowers were never brought up. I panicked when I went to order them and went overboard.
    PPS My wish almost came true, love, but there is still