Page 1 of The Mobster's Flower

Chapter One

Rue

“Are you ready, can I take the shot now?”

I nod, shuffling closer to my flower cart and posing for the camera. The smile on my face is wide enough to split it in two, but there is no helping it. I have been waiting for this moment my entire life, and now, it’s here.

It’s happening!

“Okay, I’m ready,” I say giddily, staring right into the camera and waiting for my aunt to take the shot. I’m standing in front of my brand-new flower cart parked in the lot outside my aunt’s bakery. She looks as happy as I feel, and I can read the pride on her face. Annie—as she prefers to be called because she says it makes her sound younger—has known about my dream to own a flower shop since I was a little girl, and today, I’m one big step closer to that dream.

A mobile flower stand isn’t the flower shop I’ve always dreamed about, but it’s a start. The first step to one day owning my very own flower shop in Valor Springs. It’s taken me years of saving and learning about flowers to get here, and now that I have, I can’t stop smiling. My heart is hammering with excitement and my palms are a little sweaty, but I imagine that’s how all business owners feel when they finally open their business to the public.

“Can you move a little closer to the roses?”

I shuffle closer to the rose arrangement and pick one from the bunch, bringing it to my nose to inhale the sweet, comforting scent before turning back to face the camera and waiting for her to take the shot. “Okay, now I’m ready.”

Annie squints at the vintage camera in her hands before shaking her head. “You are still too far from the roses. Move closer.”

My brows wrinkle, and I turn to look at the roses which are literally a hair’s breadth away. She’s either going blind, or I’m losing my mind. “If I move any closer, I will crush the roses.”

“Just a little closer.”

“Annie!” I cry out, raising my hands in exasperation, and that’s when I hear the unmistakable sound of the shutter as she takes the photo. “Wait, did you take the photo? But I wasn’t ready.”

“Looks perfect to me,” Annie says with a playful smirk, putting away the camera, and I glare at her. This is so like her. Aunt Annie is the town’s favorite baker and is very mischievous. Maybe I should have expected this from her, but I didn’t think we’d be pulling pranks on such an important day.

“That was so mean, Annie,” I tell her, and she simply shrugs, walking toward me with a satisfied smile that tells me she was planning on doing this all along.

“I thought it was funny. You looked so cute standing next to the roses glaring at me,” she says, pinching my cheeks like she used to when I was younger. “I got you a present.”

“You did?”

“I want you to know that I am so proud of you,” she says, reaching into the pocket of her apron and taking out anenvelope. “You’ve wanted this since you were a little girl, and now you have your own flower stand, so I wanted to give you this.”

My eyes narrow on the envelope she passes to me. “This is not another prank, is it?” She shakes her head, and I decide to trust her, peeling the seal off the envelope to peek in. My eyes widen to saucers when I see the cash tucked inside. “Annie, what is this?”

“I wanted to be your first customer.”

“This is too much,” I whisper, choked up. My eyes well up as I stare at my aunt. She resembles my mother so much, and having her here to support me means the world. “Are you trying to buy the entire flower stand? With this amount of cash, you just might.”

“I know that you are saving money to rent your own shop. Take it, and in exchange, I’ll take a bouquet of roses.”

I let the tears fall, moving forward to hug my aunt. She smells like her famous cinnamon rolls, and I figure she must have just finished baking a batch. Wrapping my arm tightly around her waist, I lean my head on her shoulder, and…that’s when I see it.

The car speeding toward us.

I blink away my happy tears to make sure I am indeed seeing what I think I am, but yes, the car is definitely coming in our direction, and from the way it keeps swerving unsteadily on the road, I can already tell it is going to crash. Surely, the driver sees us, though?

Locked in my auntie’s embrace, I am frozen to the ground, and all I manage is a horrified cry. “Annie!”

“I don’t want to hear anything about giving back the money!”

My breathing is labored, and my tongue grows thick as my eyes dart between the car coming in our direction and my flower stand. They’ll hit the brakes or swerve to avoid us, right? They have to.

Please.

My aunt pulls back from the embrace to look at me. She must read the panic in my face because she looks behind her to see what has my attention.

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