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ONE
The bell above the door of Peonies & Burlap Flower Shop chimed out across the small empty street, piercing the cold Colorado air with its jolly ringing. The sound always greeted newcomers with its happy welcome, but throughout the month of December, the bell seemed to sing out all the louder, embracing each customer with a special “Merry Christmas” as it ushered them into the shop.
As Claire Frost arrived for work that morning, she wanted to respond to the ringing bell with a “Merry Christmas” of her own. After all, no one else ever did. There was probably a reason for that, though. Something about talking to a bell just screamed straight-up crazy. Instead, she smiled up at it in silence, then closed the door behind her.
She entered Peonies & Burlap, the scents of the shop taking residence in her nose—roses, lilies, hydrangeas. Even in December, the flowers filled the area with their sweet, aromatic fragrance.
“Is that you, Claire?” came her boss’s voice from the backroom.
“Yeah, it’s me,” Claire responded. “How are you, Mia?”
“Frazzled.”
Claire slipped off her yellow and black scarf—Hufflepuff colors, of course—and moved through the shop, sidestepping open boxes and empty vases that would need to be moved before they opened in less than an hour.
The shop’s front room was filled to bursting with flowers propped up in tin containers tied with burlap bows, stumps of wood holding them up at various heights. Pops of bright colors shouted out to Claire as she walked past them. Delicate pink sweet peas. White layered camellias. Deep red hellebores. She couldn’t get enough of the sights or the smells, but that was nothing new.
“Did you make it to the market?” Mia asked, still calling out from the backroom.
Claire walked past the shelves of glass vases, potted succulents, and poinsettias before reaching Mia. “Yep. I got a nice selection, too.”
She hung her scarf on the nearby rack, tucking her blonde hair behind her ears. The room was undecorated, with white walls and metal shelving holding shears, containers of alum, and stucco pots.
“Perfect. I’ll help you bring them in just as soon as I finish this.” Mia didn’t look up from the bouquet she was arranging on the back table, clipping the white freesia stems at an angle and tucking them into the vase of red berries and pine.
The woman had always reminded Claire of a younger Professor Sprout from Harry Potter, what with her earth-colored clothing and somewhat crazed appearance. Her black curls stuck out at odd angles, and her gray eyes were wide and focused.
Claire walked closer to her boss’s arrangement. “It looks great. Do you want more holly leaves? I managed to snag some before that guy from Fast Flowers stole the rest.”
Mia scoffed with disgust, ducking her head low to eye the flowers from a different angle. “I’m surprised you got any at all. Derek is the worst.”
Claire smiled. Derek was actually pretty nice, but she wasn’t about to go against her boss’s opinion. Claire had been thrilled to be hired to work at Mia’s shop right out of high school, and she’d learned more from the woman in the last eight years than she ever could have hoped. Of course, double majoring in Botany and Horticulture at Colorado State had also helped expand her knowledge.
Still, Claire would never say anything that would put her on Mia’s bad side. Claire intended to work at Peonies & Burlap until she earned enough to start her own flower shop in New York. Or Paris. Or Sydney. The world was her oyster, really. Or at least so her parents had told her.
Then again, they’d said a lot of things that weren’t true.
“Wearing braces doesn’t hurt at all.”
“You didn’t really want us at your graduation anyway.”
“We’ll be home for Christmas this year.”
She pushed aside the rising emotions that accompanied the memories of her parents’ words. She knew better than to believe them now. Besides, Christmas would be Christmas even if she was spending it alone this year.
“There. I think that should do it.” Mia stood back from her creation. “A few more of the holly branches, and it’ll be finished. Let’s get those flowers now while we still have the energy.”
Mia didn’t have to tell Claire twice. The life of a florist was no piece of New York cheesecake, the mornings early, the days long, and the labor extensive. Claire wouldn’t change her job for the world, but having a few extra hours of sleep here and there would be nice. Such a perk was impossible, though, when prepping for Florence Bradshaw Design’s annual Christmas party.
“Melody will be here soon to sign off on the delivery,” Claire said as she and Mia piled flower after flower into their arms from the back of the company van. Their breath lingered around them in thick, white puffs.
“Good. Tonight has to be perfect.”
As Claire well knew. Much of their income depended on successfully decorating for corporate parties. The pressure was greater, but she far preferred the lively atmosphere of work parties or weddings to decorating for somber funerals.
Besides, being busy was a nice distraction from the disaster that had been her personal life the last few months.
“Let’s just hope Melody is on time today,” Mia said, walking with her haul toward the shop. “We both know how hard that is for her to do.”
