Page 15 of The Florist By Chance
“Yes.” She crosses her arms, shoulders stiff. “You made me look like I don’t know what’s going on in my own shop. Like I’m just… window dressing while you make the decisions.”
“That’s not what I was doing.”
“Really?” She takes a step closer, chin tilted up like she’s daring me to deny it. “Because from where I’m standing, it feels like you’re running a one-man rescue mission and I’m supposed to smile pretty and keep quiet while you take over.”
My jaw tightens. “You think I like doing this? You think I want to be here, stepping on your toes?”
“Then stop.” Her voice sharpens. “Stop swooping in. Stop deciding for me. You don’t get to undermine me in front of staff—or customers—or anyone. Not in this shop.”
The wordunderminedigs deeper than I want to admit. I drag a hand over my mouth, counting to three. “Mia, I’m not trying to steal control. I’m trying to keep this place from collapsing.”
She shakes her head, frustration spilling into every gesture. “You don’t trust me to run it. That’s what this is about. You don’t think I can do it without you.”
Her words hang in the air like smoke, and part of me doesn’t want to agree. But that’s not the truth. Not exactly.
I turn slightly, leaning against the counter, pretending to study the order sheet just so I don’t have to look her in the eye.It’s not her I don’t trust. It’s me.
I promised Collins I’d keep an eye on things. Steady the shop, make sure Mia didn’t drown under the weight of all of it. And the thought of failing him—of letting this place crumble on my watch—sits in my gut like a stone. I can handle Mia being angry at me. What I can’t handle is proving Collins wrong about me.
“I don’t want to fight with you,” I mutter, voice lower now.
Her arms drop, though the tension in her shoulders doesn’t ease. “Then stop giving me reasons to.”
I finally meet her gaze. There’s fire there, yes, but something else flickers underneath. Weariness. Maybe even a hint of hurt.
“You think I don’t see what you’re carrying?” I say before I can stop myself. “The orders, the customers, the bills… You’re spread so thin it’s a miracle you’re still standing. Hiring Zoe wasn’t about control, Mia. It was about survival.”
She exhales sharply, and for a second her expression wavers, caught between pushing back and letting the words land.
But then Zoe pops up from behind the counter, rag in hand. “Um… where should I start wiping?”
Mia blinks, the moment gone. She forces another brittle smile. “Anywhere’s fine.”
Zoe nods and hums to herself as she gets to work.
Mia shoots me one last look—half warning, half something I can’t quite name—before turning back to the flowers.
And just like that, the fight is shelved. Not solved. Just pushed to the corner, waiting to ignite again.
The shop finally finds its rhythm again. Zoe wipes down counters with cheerful determination, humming under her breath. Mia arranges bouquets with a precision that feels almost surgical. I keep my head down, trying not to replay our argument like a broken record.
But the air between us? Still electric. One wrong word and the whole place will go up in flames again.
The bell above the door jingles, and Mr. Adams from the bakery next door slips in holding a folded newspaper. “Thought you two might want to see this,” he says, voice low, like he’s delivering bad news to a family. He lays the paper on the counter and gives Mia a sympathetic nod before leaving as quietly as he came.
Mia wipes her hands on her apron and steps closer. My stomach knots the second I see the headline splashed across the front page:
Titan Floral Announces Bay Area Expansion—Promise of ‘Luxury Blooms at Half the Price.’
Mia’s fingers tighten on the edge of the counter until her knuckles pale. I skim the article, heat rising in my chest. It’s exactly the kind of corporate fluff I expected—Titan swooping in like a knight in shining armor, promising premium quality at bargain prices. All smoke and mirrors, but convincing smoke. The kind of pitch customers eat up.
There’s even a quote from Ms. Eldridge:“Small-town shops have heart, but Titan brings efficiency. We believe Bay Area families deserve both.”
My jaw clenches so hard it hurts. The smugness practically bleeds through the page.
Mia yanks the paper out of my hands, eyes scanning fast. I can see the way each line hits her, like little cuts.
“She makes it sound like we’re some… charity case,” she mutters, voice thin. “Like we’re destined to fail, and Titan’s swooping in to save the day.”
