Page 45 of Because of Her

I shove all the inappropriate thoughts and the dreams of the future down. Way down, without a ladder.

And I hope if I trap them down there long enough, they’ll go away.

CASSIDY

Sitting in the office of my boutique, I wonder why I bothered putting in any effort this morning. Amira did my hair before rushing off for her morning shift, and I put on a floral summer dress instead of my usual jeans and plain shirt.

Giggles float across the space from the small group of women crowded around a camera that points towards my gorgeous floral wall. They all must be at least ten years younger than me, but their designer bags are a blinding indicator of how different our lives are.

“I need to try that again.”

The blonde bombshell skips in front of the camera, her pink skirt floating around her. She puffs air in and out of her cheeks. Someone waves for her to start, and she pastes on the fakest of smiles.

I tune out the words, not needing to hear the fifteenth take of her skin care commercial. No, not commercial. ‘Gifted content’ was the phrase she used. Although I’m pretty sure the skincare company is paying her.

This is not what I had in mind when the influencer said she wanted to hire my space for a photoshoot. She came in last week and fell in love.

“I justhaveto film here!” She had all but squealed as she took a hundred photos of the floral wall.

Every short format video and photo filmed this morning has been meticulously staged in front of the wall I spenthours creating, but not once has it been a focus. She promised to tag the location in the videos, so at least there’s that.

And the money she paid to rent the space. I may have overexaggerated my average daily sales when working out how much to charge her, but she never questioned the amount. And it will be a good boost to my bank account. With the events at Noah’s winery, the winter might not be as tight as I thought, but we are still a fair way out from wedding season. I need to bank as much money as I can.

“Did you want to shoot some videos together?”

I look up from the endless scroll of videos I’m flicking past on my phone. Fumbling as I lock the screen, I drop it on the desk.

Blondie has poked her head into the office, smile still plastered on but the rest of her face is frozen in place. Her laminated brows and thick lashes frame her perfect features. It’s sickening someone can be so, perfect. She looks like a Barbie, and I can’t blink away the spots in my peripheral vision. I thought by the time I was thirty, I’d stop being jealous of perfect women. How wrong I was.

Despite how insignificant I feel next to her, I can’t turn down the offer to film some content together. She has over 500 thousand followers, and this is what I had in mind when I hired her the space.

To her credit, she knows social media well. Under her instruction, I film some ‘behind the scenes’ videos while she goes through yet another take on the skincare ad. We take videos together and record me handing her a bouquet of flowers from behind the counter. Her photographer—who I suspect is just a friend, given the phone she uses as a camera—takes some stylised headshots of me. Some in front of the wall, others behind the counter, and even some ‘at work’ shots cutting stems. I never could have afforded this kind of photo shoot, but my email pings almost instantly with the files.

“I need coffee.” Blondie stretches with a yawn as we start to pack up her giant lights.

I point down the street. “The nearest café is about ten minutes that way.”

It’s ridiculous, for Melbourne. She groans and a lightbulb above my head flickers on. Coffee. I hold on to it, finding a marker to write the word on my hand so I don’t forget.

With everything packed up, the women invite me into a group hug.

“Thank youso much.” Blondie tucks a stray piece of hair behind my ear and taps me on the shoulder. “I will tag you in everything. And please tag me in your posts, too.”

I promise her I will, flicking the sign to ‘open’ as they leave in the direction of the café down the road.

The storefront is quiet for the rest of the afternoon, and although that’s typical for early in the week, on a Friday afternoon, it’s still concerning.

Light floods in from the street windows. Dust sparkles in the rays and I take a second to stand in the glimmer and appreciate the moment. The floral wall creates a bright backdrop to the boutique. My initial worries, that the buckets of available blooms and bouquets would get lost amidst the extra colour in the space, were unnecessary. Instead, they somehow stand out in the foreground. I’m grateful that today my creation had its time to shine.

Purples, pinks, yellows, oranges, they all stand out against the green of the wall and the scattering of white flowers spread along it. Thanks to today, I’ve got some incredible shots for our socials, and hopefully the online response brings customers into the store.

My sister was right though, they need something to buy once they are here, and not everyone needs, or wants flowers. All the little nuggets of gold the universe has been dropping me start to fall into place.

People don’t come to a florist for a wall they can’t buy. The concept worked in the café because so many people buy coffee almost every day. Flowers don’t have the same impulse appeal.

Coffee. This strip of shops has needed a café since before I moved in. Most shop owners tell me they had hoped I was opening one when I first took over the space. The coffee van that drives past every morning always ends up crowded with customers.

But if I had coffee available here …

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