Page 1 of Saffron and Secrets

1

Jonathan

I never thought I’d see the day I’d be walking into a florist shop to buy a bouquet of flowers. But here I am…

“I’m here now. I’ll deliver them to her soon and get back to pick you up and take you to your meeting,” I say into my phone to my boss.

He sighs. “All right, call me when you’re downstairs.”

I hang up and tuck my phone back into my pants.

I’ve been assigned to do this for my good friend and now boss, James. He’s head over heels for a girl named Abigail and he’s sent me to buy flowers and personally deliver them to her. I can’t exactly argue with him when he’s paying me to do this.

The windows of the shop are full of colorful plants. Some are hanging from the ceiling in baskets and many others are in pots on the floor. Dread hits me. I’d rather pick up dry cleaning than do this. They aren’t even for me, so why didn’t I try to convince him to order them online and have them delivered?

Oh, that’s right. He wouldn’t. He wanted her to feel special and have someone she knows deliver them. He wants that personal touch. Insert my eye roll and hand me a bucket to puke in.

I roll my shoulders back and take a deep breath, convincing myself I can do this. It's just a flower shop. The quicker I get inside the store, the quicker I can get out. I step inside and a chime above the door sounds. Sally’s florist is enormous, and they sell way more than just flowers. There is artwork all over the walls for sale and candles laid out on every surface. Even furniture has tags, meaning they are for sale too.

As I walk further into the shop, I find more furniture accessories scattered around. This place is just too big; I am trying to find someone who works here. I want to pick up my boss’s order and be done with it.

I peer around at all the flowers. Who knew there would be so many types in a rainbow of colors? I’ve never been much of a flower guy myself. I know of red and white roses and that’s it. I’m not someone who buys flowers. I’ve always been a one-night stand kind of guy. I've spent my entire adult life creating an app called Integration Software and then helping my parents’ business until we had an argument and I left.

I notice a blonde florist working behind the counter and quicken my pace. However, as I reach her, the phone rings. Fuck! I pause and rub my head while she answers it.

“Hello, thank you for calling Cygnet Blooms, where bigger is always better. May I take your order, please?”

I put my hands in my suit pockets to stop myself from fidgeting. I hate being in a place like this. I can’t wait to leave.

After a couple more minutes, she hangs up. I step closer to the counter, not wanting to waste another second.

She smiles at me politely. “Sorry, sir, I have to serve this customer first. She was before you. She just had to answer a call. I’ll be back to help you soon.”

“Sure,” I say with a tight smile.

I watch her move to the opposite wall and assist a black-haired woman. I move around, needing to do something, so there’s no harm in wasting time looking around. My eyes flick to them every now and again to watch their exchange, hoping she won’t take much longer. They walk to the counter, and I almost fist-pump the air.

“The saffron seems low today,” the black-haired woman remarks in a soft tone.

“Yes, there wasn’t much available this week…” the florist says, and I zone out. I stopped listening to their conversation when I ran my gaze over the back of the black-haired woman. As I stand directly behind her, I can’t help but appreciate her hourglass shape and heart-shaped ass in her black pants and white top. The woman turns to leave, and I suck in a sharp breath. I’m totally taken aback. She not only has a great body, but her face is impeccable—her full lips are pink and pouty, while her green eyes glimmer under the lights.

And when she smiles, my breath hitches.

I change my mind in that instant. Maybe I should come to these places more often if people like her come here. Like an idiot, I stand there, slack-jawed, unable to move, until she dips her head and walks past, holding her flowers. Her sweet scent hits my nostrils, and I sniff deeper to take it in. It’s sweet like honey with a floral touch.

I clear my throat and step forward.

“I’m here to pick up a bouquet,” I say.

“Sure. Name?”

“James White.”

“Oh yes, I’ll grab it now,” the receptionist says with a broad smile.

After collecting the bouquet, I step outside and text James.

Jonathan: I got it, boss. I’ll drop them off now.

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