Page 98 of Worth the Fall

And just like that, the chaos doesn’t feel so overwhelming anymore.

Back at my desk, I breathe a sigh of relief, ready to dive back into work. The movers are handled, Miguel was his usual calm and supportive self, and I even managed to catch a cab without being late for my next meeting.

It feels like a win—a small one, but I’ll take it. I open my laptop, start scanning my emails, and sip my lukewarm coffee.

I’ve got this.

The phone on my desk rings, and I glance at the caller ID: the florist.

A small pang of unease prickles in my chest, but I shake it off. It’s probably just a confirmation or a minor question. I pick up the receiver.

"Hi, this is Mia."

"Ms. Mason! This is Darlene from Blooming Dreams," the voice on the other end chirps. It’s a little too cheerful, which immediately sets me on edge.

"Hi, Darlene. What’s up?"

"Well," she says, stretching the word like it’s a Band-Aid she doesn’t want to rip off, "I wanted to touch base about your order. Specifically, the dahlias you requested."

My heart sinks. "What about them?"

"There’s been a slight hiccup," she says, in a tone that makes it clear the hiccup is more like a burp after a three-course meal. "Unfortunately, our supplier has let us know that dahlias won’t be available in time for your wedding."

I blink, trying to process. "Won’t be available? At all?"

"At all," she confirms. "We’re so sorry! But we wanted to ask if there’s another flower you’d prefer as a substitute. Maybe roses? Roses are very classic."

I close my eyes, pinching the bridge of my nose. "Darlene, I chose dahlias because they’re my favorite flower. I’ve already designed the centerpieces and bouquets around them."

"I understand," she says quickly. "And we’ll do everything we can to make the arrangements look just as beautiful. But…"

"But no dahlias," I finish, my voice tight.

"Correct."

I take a slow, measured breath, trying to stay calm. "I’ll have to think about it. Can I call you back?"

"Of course!" Darlene says, her voice as sunny as ever. "Just let us know as soon as you can, and we’ll make it happen!"

I hang up, setting the phone down carefully as if it might explode.

It’s fine, I tell myself. Just a hiccup. I can handle this.

My phone rings again.

I glance at the screen and see the name of the bakery. A wave of unease washes over me as I pick up the receiver.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Ms. Mason, this is George from Sweet Sensations," the voice on the other end says, sounding uncharacteristically subdued.

"Hi, George," I say, my grip tightening on the phone. "What’s going on?"

"I’m afraid we’ve had an… incident," he says, clearing his throat. "There was a fire at our bakery yesterday. Thankfully, no one was hurt, but the damage was extensive, and we’ve had to cancel all pending orders."

For a second, I don’t speak. I can’t.

"I—I’m sorry, what?" I manage, my voice shaking slightly.

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