CHAPTER 5
Juliette spent the remainder of her afternoon getting reacquainted with the flower shop where she’d spent nearly every day of her youth. It was a necessary distraction if she wanted to ignore the rush of confusion and overwhelm that plagued her the moment she’d laid eyes on Brockton Gallagher.
He was the last person she expected—or wanted—to see.
The way he watched her…it was the same way he’d looked at her so many years before. He always had a way of making her feel like she was the only one in the whole world whenever they were together. The only one that mattered. The only one he wanted. And that look, the one where his melty amber gaze sort of lazily drifted over her, still caused her heart to nearly skitter out of her chest. But then he had the nerve to offer her a job, as though he didn’t remember breaking her heart.
Well, she didn’t want his sympathy. She didn’t want his help. She didn’t want to have anything to do with him. She could manage just fine on her own.
She climbed the stairs to the apartment, telling herself she was just going to check and see if she had missed any calls. She grabbed her phone off the nightstand and felt a sharp, stingingslice of pain cut through her heart when she realized she’d missed nothing.
No calls.
No texts.
Nothing.
Not even from her “friends” in D.C.
In retrospect, they were Rodrigo’s friends. She’d been an outsider of their clique since the beginning, and slowly they’d welcomed her into their tight-knit circle. If she was being honest, it took months before they even treated her like a human. They talkedather or around her, never quite holding a worthwhile conversation with her. But she was merely passing through a season of their lives. A memory easily made, quickly forgotten. Their loyalty was to Rodrigo.
To them, she was nothing but a glimpse in time.
A chilled breath shuddered out of her, and she headed back downstairs to the flower shop.
Warm winter sunlight spilled into the shop, illuminating the rustic hardwood floors with a cozy glow. The window display was rather bare, with a few haphazard blooms competing over too much empty space. Toward the back of the shop was the massive cooler for storage and the office where her mother met with future brides. Multiple wooden tables where they created floral displays were lined up a few feet apart from one another. Edison light bulbs were strung along the overhead beams of the ceiling, offering warm, ambient lighting.
Overall, the atmosphere of the shop was not quite like she remembered. At one point it was classy yet rigid, strict yet refined. Now, the vibe was incredibly artistic and bohemian.
Juliette could see why her sisters hadn’t been in a rush to leave.
Adrienne and Vivianne were right; Mystic Florals had grown exponentially. The shop’s busiest months were duringthe wedding seasons—May and June, September and October—yet despite weddings taking place throughout the year, it seemed there was another driving force of income. As it would happen, her mother had created quite the following, and many customers ordered flowers through social media. Not to mention the everyday flowers, holiday flowers, and corporate events that drove sales even higher.
While both Adrienne and Vivianne worked on custom floral designs, they’d also taken up separate aspects of the business. Vivianne gained traction as an influencer, which caused the marketing campaign for Mystic Florals to skyrocket, while Adrienne’s focus was on photography. Not only did she design bouquets and centerpieces for brides, but she also offered wedding photography services. Offering a two-for-one deal for brides was hard to refuse.
Since her mother was in the office on a phone call, Juliette wandered over to where her twin sisters worked near the table stations, while Parisian jazz crooned softly out of the overhead speakers. Adrienne was curled up on a cushioned bench with her tablet in hand, sketching out some designs for wedding bouquets. Juliette watched quietly as her sister’s vision gradually took form on the screen. It was a breathtaking teardrop-shaped bouquet overflowing with coral and fuchsia garden roses, sprays of eucalyptus, and creamy peach ranunculus. It would be beautiful for the upcoming spring season.
Vivianne, on the other hand, had the sleeves of her sweater rolled to her elbows and was assembling a winter bouquet. The wooden table was spread with an assortment of lilacs, pale blue dahlias, and white roses with a few sprigs of fern for a touch of greenery.
Juliette lifted one of the lilac stems and twirled it between her fingers. “I didn’t think we could get lilacs so early in the year.”
“Mama has changed her suppliers. There’s a warehouse not far from here, and they deliver to us every morning.” Vivianne shuffled the stems and wrapped them delicately in a bundle of brown parchment paper. “Most of our flowers come from Colombia now, so they’re much more accessible throughout the year.”
Juliette’s jaw dropped. “Wow. That’s…”
Incredible.
“Great,” she finished pathetically and handed the lilac stem to her sister. But Vivianne shoved the bouquet into her hands instead. Juliette closed her eyes and inhaled the enchanting, sweet scent of the flowers, just as her sister snapped a picture on her phone.
“Viv!” Juliette’s eyes flew open and heat scalded her cheeks. “I’m wearing last night’s makeup. I haven’t even washed my hair yet.”
Her sister brushed off her concern with a wave of her hand. “Most of your face was hidden by the bouquet, anyway. Besides, followers love behind-the-scenes action.”
Juliette looked to Adrienne for backup, but the twin lifted one shoulder and smiled. “It’s all for the sake of content, Jules.”
“Fine,” Juliette grumbled. “But next time at least let me wash my face.”
Both sets of frosty green eyes landed on her.
