As a few days went by, I thought I would get used to having my own space to work and be myself, but there was nothing like the freedom that came with my own little office, even if it was just temporary. If I wanted to spin around in my chair for a few minutes until I made myself sick, I could do that. If I wanted to write everything unofficial in glitter gel pen, I could do that.

Of course, I only had the freedom to do my job the way I wanted, not living my whole life like that. But I could live with the baby step.

With a quiet Katy Perry singing from my iPhone speaker, someone knocked on the door, and in walked George.

The one person who controlled my freedom. I smiled anyway. "Hey George. How are you doing today?"

"The emptiness is really starting to get to me, Marigold. My world is just so much quieter without her in it," he replied, and I nodded.

"I'm sure it's horrible losing the love of your life like that. I can't even imagine, honestly." I set down my pen as another thought left my mouth. "Just being a disappointment is bad enough for me."

I bit my cheek. Why did I say that? It wasn't even close to the pain he was feeling.

"What do you mean by that?" George asked.

I shook my head. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean anything. It was super insensitive of me to talk about myself when I've never gone through—"

George interrupted me. "No, I'd like to hear it. It'll be nice to get out of my own head for a little while."

I hesitated for a moment. He wasn't serious, right? "I—"

"Lydia would have wanted to hear this."

I wasn't quite sure about that, but he knew her much more than I ever did, so I decided to indulge him just for a moment. "Well, I miss having an actual family too. Obviously, I can always start my own and blah, blah, blah, but I miss being able to ask my mom about whatever problem I'm having. I have friends, but they'll never be as supportive as my family used to be."

"And why can't you call her?"

"Because I decided to throw my life away by not going to college. I mean, when she said that, I didn't have my own temporary office, but I can't help but think that this still wouldn't be enough for everyone," I said.

"That doesn't answer my question, though."

I thought for a moment. I definitely answered it somewhere in that thought. "Of course it does. She's still disappointed in me. I just know it."

"You know, you could always call her to ask," George said. "And besides, Marigold, how old are you?"

"Twenty-four."

"You're so young that you can still go to college."

"But that's the thing. I still don't want to. It's not gonna teach me how to crochet better or how to make people give me bigger tips."

"No, but it would teach you how to run a business."

I let out a sigh. "You sound just like her."

"All I'm saying is that every once in a while, someone older than you might have a point. It's not just them being a boomer," he said.

I ignored how that definitely didn't make sense, and I nodded instead. "Well, considering you said it nicely, I might consider it."

I wasn't going to consider it. I liked my life just the way it was, running my craft shop on nothing but vibes. The only change that I would make would be to introduce money into the equation somewhere.

"If it's about the money, Marigold, we can get rid of that hurdle if you're willing to keep this job," George continued.

But it wasn't about the money. I just didn't see how it was going to get me anywhere that I couldn't figure out with only my best friend Google.

George tapped the desk in front of me. "Well, this has been good, but the reason I came in was to ask you for a favor."

"What's that?"

"You have to fire Ashley."

"I'm sorry?"

He thought for a moment, then rephrased the favor. "I know she's worked here for years, but she's becoming a liability. I think you know what I'm talking about."

"Her attitude? Her mouth?"

He nodded. "Exactly. She's not exactly the type I want representing the business moving forward, even if Lydia did always have a soft spot for her."

"But why do I have to be the one to do it? We've worked together for three years, and I don't think I have it in me to be the one to let her go," I said. I would have said that she was my friend, but she would have called me a dumb bitch (affectionately, but George wouldn't know the difference) if she ever heard those words leave my mouth.

"Being the boss isn't always easy, Marigold. But it's why I asked you to do it, because you're the best candidate for that job," George said, and with that, he left me behind in my temporary office.

"But I'm not the boss. I'm literally doing you a favor because your wife is dead," I mumbled to myself after I couldn't hear his footsteps anymore.

But that was the funny thing about favors—they weren't really questions most of the time.

Everyone knew that I didn't hold any actual power in the winery, so it was very possible that no one would take anything I did seriously. I'd fire Ashley, and she'd show up for work again the next day, and then what? George would see that I certainly wasn't the best candidate for the job after all.

I put my head down on my desk. Oh, but I could get used to the luxury of having my own space to be dramatic.

Another knock came from the other side of the office door, and when no one immediately barged in, I assumed it wasn't George again.

"Yes?" I said, and this time, Mason peeked inside.

I smiled.

"Hey, I couldn't help but overhear that you've got quite the responsibility looming over your head right now," Mason said.

My eyes widened. "You heard that? Please don't tell anyone. I don't know what I'm gonna do, honestly. I can't even."

"Well, you have to do it, don't you? George told you to fire Ashley, and she's not exactly good at her job anyway."

"I mean, yeah, but that wasn't in my makeshift job description, and I don't think she deserves to lose her job because of a few comments she's made here and there. We all do the same thing, just a little quieter."

"You should hear the things Ashley says about you when you're not around," Mason said.

I smiled and shook my head. "You don't have to try to make this easier for me. I'm tough, and I hope Ashley knows we're good enough friends that it's not personal at all."

"I'm sure she'll take it just fine, Marigold," he said, but if I wasn't mistaken, there was some sarcasm hidden in there.

A silence fell over the two of us, and I took that as my cue to get back to work, but Mason didn't get the same message. Instead, he stayed right where he was, and I pretended like I wasn't looking at his choice of outfit again. The ripped jeans weren't exactly the look we were expected to have at The Lakeside Daisy, and I wondered why no one told him that yet.

Did that mean that it had to be me to break the news?

But before I could figure out how to diplomatically tell him to dress a little nicer for work, he took another step closer to my desk, and I looked up at him from my that bitch chair. And he looked back at me with his eyes blue as water, and my heart fluttered inside my chest.

It was direct, just like the night we met. And I liked that feeling just the same.

"I don't suppose you have plans after work tonight, do you?" he asked.

"I didn't have anything lined up, no," I replied.

The only thing I had in mind was to go home and sleep off the disgust of today, which I assumed was how management managed to sleep at night. I was still learning the ropes, after all.

"We could always stick around for a few drinks," he said.

"After close?"

He nodded.

I laughed. "Well, Mason, since I'm the money person now, I can tell you that it's not going to look great that the goods we're selling are missing and unaccounted for."

See? I didn't need school to teach me that.

He reached into the pocket of his unprofessional jeans, took out his wallet, and let a hundred fall from his fingers onto my desk. "Just don't pick anything too expensive."

With my taste in wine, a hundred dollars was more than enough to get blackout drunk, but I didn't tell him that. Instead, I gave him a small smile and picked the cash up off my desk.

"Well," I said, "in that case, it's accounted for."

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Hello! Thank you so much for reading! I really appreciate your support on this story.

So for today's question, if you could be any age again, what age would you be?

I'd like to be five again. I was pretty smart for my age then, and my life was pretty simple when I was just starting school. Making new friends was as easy as asking, "do you want to be friends?" What a life. You really don't know what you've got until it's gone.