Page 39 of Falling Again For My Best Friend's Brother

"No, Liam. We didn't." I leaned forward, emboldened by the flicker of irritation in his eyes. "You assumed I would jump at your offer. But Petals and Blooms is my dream, my life's work. I decided I can’t let it go without a fight."

His jaw clenched, a muscle ticking beneath his designer stubble. "Amelia, be reasonable. This is the opportunity of a lifetime. I'm offering you financial security, a chance to start fresh--"

"--And lose everything I've worked so hard for?" I cut him off. "No, thank you, Liam."

His demeanor changed from charming businessman to cornered animal. "You're making a mistake," he growled, his tone laced with warning.

"No, Liam. The only mistake I made was ever trusting you." I stood abruptly, my chair scraping against the tile. A hush fell over the café as heads turned our way.

I hardly noticed the stares as I strode forward, leaving Liam sputtering. With each step, I felt lighter and freer. I'd done it. I'd stood my ground and taken control of my future.

And as I burst out onto the sun-dappled street, I couldn't help the grin that split my face. Trevor had been right about Liam all along. But more than that, he'd been right about me.

As I hurried back to Petals & Blooms, my mind raced with ideas for the upcoming calendar photoshoot. The bell above the door jingled merrily as I entered, and there was Trevor, hunched over the counter, his brow furrowed in concentration.

He glanced up at the sound, his eyes softening as they met mine. "Hey, you. How'd it go with Liam?"

I sighed, shrugging out of my jacket. "About as well as expected. He tried to strong-arm me into selling, but I stood my ground."

Trevor's lips quirked into a proud smile. "That's my girl." He rounded the counter, pulling me into a warm hug. I melted into his embrace, breathing in his familiar scent of sandalwood and soap.

After a moment, he pulled back, searching my face. "You okay?"

I nodded, a genuine smile tugging at my lips. "More than okay. I feel... empowered. Like I can take on the world."

Trevor chuckled, tucking a stray lock of hair behind my ear. "I do not doubt that. You're a force to be reckoned with, Amelia Carter."

I grinned, playfully swatting his chest. "Flattery will get you everywhere, Mr. Phillips."

We laughed, the sound echoing through the shop. It felt good to be surrounded by the vibrant blooms and the man I loved.

"So," I said, moving to peer over his shoulder at the papers scattered across the counter, "how are the plans for the photoshoot coming along?"

Trevor's eyes sparkled with excitement. " I think we might be onto something big here. I've been crunching the numbers, and if we can sell enough calendars and raffle tickets, we might just be able to save the shop."

My heart swelled with hope. "Really? You think so?"

He nodded, his expression determined. "I know so. We've got a great team, a solid plan, and most importantly, we've got each other."

The bell above the door jingled, startling us out of our moment. We turned to see Frances breezing into the shop. She had a bright polka-dot dress on her camera bag slung over her shoulder and a manic grin.

"Good morning, lovebirds! Time to create some magic." Her enthusiasm was infectious, and I couldn't help but smile at her quirky energy.

I exchanged a wary look with Trevor, remembering our reluctant decision to hire Frances for the photoshoot. Her photography skills were undeniable, and her connections in town would be invaluable in promoting the calendar, but her tendency to stir up drama made me nervous.

"Good morning, Frances," I said, plastering on a smile. "We're just finalizing some details. How are you feeling about the shoot?"

Frances's eyes lit up, and she clapped her hands together excitedly. "Oh, I have so many ideas! Picture this: the shirtless and glistening firefighters posed among your most stunning floral arrangements. We'll have them holding bouquets, leaning against trellises, maybe even lounging in a bed of rose petals..."

As she rambled on, I could feel my eyebrows creeping higher and higher. I glanced at Trevor, who looked equal parts amused and horrified.

"That all sounds very... creative," he said diplomatically, "but let's remember this is a family-friendly calendar. We want to keep things tasteful."

Frances waved a dismissive hand. "Of course, of course. I’ll keep it tame, but they will be shirtless, right!"

I bit back a sigh, wondering what we'd gotten ourselves into. "They are. And they can be holding flowers, but maybe not lounging in a bed of roses.”

Frances pouted, "Oh, but imagine the artistic potential!"

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