Page 36 of Matched with the Grumpy Secret Prince

“Well, you’re here now,” Mia says, her tone light as she hands the bouquet to her customer with a warm smile. “Thanks for coming in. It’s been a busy day, but we’re making progress.”

I glance at Sophie, hoping she’ll chime in, but she doesn’t.

Instead, she focuses on the iPad, adjusting the seating chart and finalizing vendor details with a quiet efficiency that feels deliberate.

“Sophie,” I say, my voice low.

She pauses. “Yes?”

“I just wanted to say sorry. For yesterday.”

She doesn’t look at me, but I catch the slightest shift in her expression—something flickering behind her carefully neutral mask.

“You don’t have to apologize,” she says lightly, though her tone lacks its usual warmth. “It’s fine.”

“It didn’t feel fine,” I say, stepping closer. “I shouldn’t have just walked out like that.”

She finally turns to face me, her eyes meeting mine briefly before darting away. “You don’t owe me an explanation, Graham. Like you said, we’re just here to work.”

Her words are cold, and for a moment, I’m not sure how to respond.

Mia, sensing the tension, clears her throat. “Well, I’m going to grab a fresh batch of roses from the cooler,” she says, her tone cheerful but pointed. “You two hold down the fort while I’m gone.”

She disappears into the back, leaving me and Sophie alone in the shop.

The silence stretches between us, broken only by the faint rustle of flowers and the distant sound of a car pulling into the parking lot.

“Sophie,” I say again, my voice softer this time.

She glances at me, her expression guarded. “Yes?”

“I mean it. I shouldn’t have left like that. I?—”

“Graham, it’s fine,” she interrupts, her tone sharper than before. “Really. Let’s just focus on the work, okay?”

I nod, swallowing the words I want to say. “Okay.”

But as she turns back to face her iPad, her movements are a little too precise. I can’t shake the feeling that things aren’t fine. Not by a long shot.

And the worst part?

I don’t know how to fix it.

Sophie brushes past me, her attention on her planner as she gathers her things. Her movements are quick, and I can’t help but notice the extra distance she’s putting between us.

“We need to head to the Holloway estate,” she says curtly, not looking up from her notes. “There’s a lot to get done if we’re going to stay on schedule.”

Her tone is professional, almost too much so, and it grates on me in a way I can’t explain. I want to fix whatever this is between us, but she’s shutting me out, and maybe I deserve it after the way I’ve been acting.

“All right,” I say quietly, grabbing my truck keys. “Let’s go.”

The drive to the Holloway mansion is quiet, and the only sound comes from the low hum of the engine. Sophie sits in the passenger seat, her gaze fixed out the window.

I glance at her once, twice, hoping she’ll say something—anything—but the silence stretches on, heavy and unyielding.

My phone buzzes in the console, the screen lighting up with yet another call from the castle.

I hit ignore, my jaw tightening as I shove the phone back into my pocket.

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