CHAPTER 1
Fiona
“Hi Mr. Carlisle! Your usual?” I can’t help the smile on my face as my favorite customer grins widely.
“Of course, my dear. Mrs. Carlisle looks forward to our weekly date and that includes whatever lovely bouquet you make for her.”
My hands immediately reach for the delicate ice-white roses and the pale-pink peonies. A little baby’s breath and some delicate fern fronds and voila!
I hand the pale bouquet to him and he smiles. “You always make the most beautiful offerings.”
I take his card and swipe it, handing it back. “I could make it even better if you told me what her favorite flowers are.”
He shakes his balding head and smiles wryly. “She has no favorite. She loves them all. And she loves the surprise of something new every week.”
Nodding, I lean down on the counter and rest my arms. “I get it. I love them all too.” Winking, I reach over and tweak a delicate green frond and he smiles again before he shuffles out.
“Thank you, dear. I’ll see you in another week.”
Waving good-bye, I glance over at the other side of the building, frowning. The glass wall that separates our two spacesis dark on their side. He hasn’t opened up at all this week. I hadn’t heard anything about him taking a vacation.
I wonder where he is?
Another person wanders in and I smile at them, my head immediately turning to my own issues. My own problems as it were.
The space is too small. Tripping over another bucket of flowers in the back storage room that’s chilled and full of cut flowers to choose from, I sigh.
No matter what I do anymore there just isn’t enough room for everything that I want back here. I eye that space on the other side of the building all the time and wish that we had it. But it was long ago given to Mr. Stephens.
Honestly, he’s a nice enough guy but it has always felt a little cramped in here. Her Murphy ancestors had given that section of the shop to the Stephens a long time ago. Thanks to a guilty conscience over a failed betrothal that is.
It’s been awkward and annoying since then. I mean, they weren’t at daggers drawn anymore like history showed. But they weren’t friends.
That’s why it’s not actually that surprising that Mr. Stephens didn’t tell anyone why he wasn’t there. They don’t chat with our kind.
Rolling my eyes, I mutter under my breath. “It’s not like we’re a different damn species. They just don’t like us.”
It’s been at least fifty years since the feud started but that doesn’t mean it’s gone by the wayside. Every new generation feels the sting of it.
Mine is no different. My cousin and I have worked our asses off to try and make a go of things with Mr. Stephens and he’s at least not rude anymore. But warmth and neighborly concern are not there.
Both of his sons have moved on to other things though. One’s a cop and one’s a handyman in some obscure little town in the southwest. Both of them ran when they had the chance.
I didn’t have that option. My mom and dad died ten years ago and left me the business and my cousin stayed because she didn’t have anything better to do, I think.
Harper walks in the door with a carrier of coffee for us. Two for me since I got here way earlier than her and this is my long day. I’ll be here past our closing. I’ve got inventory and ordering to do and as per usual I’m behind.
“Hey, cuz. Anything interesting today?”
“Mr. Carlisle picked up his date flowers.”
Smirking, she hands me my two cups and takes a sip of her espresso. I groan and take a sip of mine. It’s already been a long day and I need the caffeine desperately. The rich brew washes over my tongue and I groan again.
“Damn, that’s good.”
“I know right? I don’t want to cause a fight but I think Katie makes the best coffee.”
Snorting, I glare at her. “Don’t try and start a fight, you troublemaker.”
