Page 34 of The Florist By Chance
She freezes, a beat too long. Then she huffs, shaking her head. “Careful, Luke. One more of those lines, and I might start believing you.”
“Then I’d say I’m doing my job,” I reply, grinning. But inside, my chest tightens. Every word, every glance, is a promise I mean to keep.
The hum of the shop feels different now lighter, charged, full of possibility. For the first time in weeks, I don’t feel like we’re just scrambling to survive. We’re planning to win. Together.
By late morning, the shop is alive in a way I haven’t seen in months. Word of Titan’s attempts to push us out has spread, and the town has responded. Neighbors drop by with coffee and muffins, some with extra vases or buckets of flowers. Others bring notes of encouragement, homemade signs, even cash donations. The energy is contagious—quiet determination mixed with fierce loyalty.
I glance at Mia, who’s moving between the counter and the back room, directing volunteers with her usual precision. She’s radiant, glowing with a mix of relief and resolve that makes my chest tighten. “See?” I murmur, almost to myself. “This is what happens when people care.”
She throws me a playful side-eye. “Don’t get sentimental on me, Luke.”
“Too late,” I reply with a grin, letting her smile tug at the corner of my lips. I watch Mrs. Hensley fuss over a vase of daisies, arranging them exactly how Mia likes, and Mr. Patel carry in buckets of hydrangeas. Everyone has a role, and it’s working beautifully.
“Looks like your ‘strategic charm’ actually works,” Mia teases, brushing a strand of hair from her face.
“Charm?” I say, mock-offended. “I prefer to call it community mobilization.”
She laughs, soft and unguarded, and I can’t help noticing the way the tension that’s been coiled inside her seems to loosen just a little. My pulse picks up—not from the work, but from watching her shine, knowing I’m falling for her all over again.
As I move around the shop, organizing donations and helping with arrangements, I catch glimpses of everyone pitching in: neighbors hanging a small “Support Local” banner, kids delivering wildflowers from their yards, a baker setting up a makeshift coffee station. It’s chaotic, but it’s ours.
I glance at Mia again, and our eyes meet across the crowded shop. No words are needed; we both know the stakes, and we both know we’re not facing them alone. The town is behind us, the shop is humming with life, and whatever Titan throws next, we’ll stand stronger together.
Just as the last bucket of flowers is tucked into place and the volunteers start to settle, the bell above the door jingles sharply. My chest tightens. I glance up and freeze.
Ms. Eldridge.
Her heels click across the floor, sharp and deliberate. The shop falls quieter instantly, the chatter and laughter fading as she stops in the middle of the room, hands on her hips. Her eyes sweep the volunteers, the neighbors, and finally land on Mia and me.
“Mr. Luke. Ms. Mia,” she says, voice clipped, controlled, but carrying a weight that makes the hair on my arms rise. “We need to talk. Immediately.”
I step forward instinctively, protective, a wall between her and the bustling shop. “What’s this about, Ms. Eldridge?” My voice is calm, but every muscle in my body is coiled.
She narrows her eyes. “I’ve just received notice that you and Ms. Mia are engaging in activities that… could be considered a violation of local business regulations. If this isn’t rectified, legal action will follow.”
A cold spike shoots through me. The timing couldn’t be worse. After all the momentum we’ve built, after seeing the town rally behind us, this—this threatens everything.
Mia stiffens beside me, but I place a steadying hand on her shoulder. “We’ve done nothing wrong,” I say, trying to keep my voice even. “We’re running the shop, supporting the community?—”
Ms. Eldridge interrupts with a tight smile. “I suggest you review your actions carefully. Titan isn’t the only one who watches closely.” She tilts her head, eyes glinting. “Consider this a warning.”
And then she’s gone, the bell jingling behind her, leaving a strange stillness in the shop. The volunteers look at us, unsure, hesitant. I can feel Mia’s pulse against my side, the tension radiating from her, and I know she’s scared.
But I won’t let her see me falter. Not here. Not now.
I straighten, taking a breath, letting the hum of the shop, the scent of flowers, and the loyalty of the townsfolk anchor me. “We deal with this,” I say firmly, voice carrying over the whispers. “Together. Like we always do.”
Mia looks at me, a flicker of gratitude—and something more—passing across her features. My chest tightens. Whatever comes next, we won’t face it alone. Not Titan. Not Ms. Eldridge. Not anyone.
But even as I say it, a thread of unease coils in my stomach. This fight isn’t over. Not by a long shot.
Chapter Fifteen
The council chamber smells faintly of polished wood and nervous energy. I clutch my folder of notes like a shield, every paper a promise, every page a memory of Mom and the shop she built. Luke sits beside me, calm but alert, his presence like a quiet anchor. I draw a shaky breath and remind myself: I’ve got this. Ihaveto.
Titan is already at the table, exuding that same slick confidence that makes my stomach tighten. He doesn’t even glance at me as he speaks, smooth and practiced. “This is simply business,” he says, voice polished, “and the council should recognize the opportunity I’m offering the town.”
I bite the inside of my cheek, my pulse quickening. Business? This isn’t just business. It’s legacy. It’s community. It’s everything my mother poured her heart into—and everything Luke has stood by me to protect.
