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16

Lex

Ipulled my car into the parking lot in front of The Bloom Room, our little Maple Grove florist.

Meow, Frost protested as I put my Fiat in park and climbed out. “Oh, shush. I’ll be back in a second.”

Meow.

“I know,” I said with a sigh. “I’m not sure she’s a flower girl, either. But I can’t show up empty handed, and in the last few days, I’ve already given her a pie, granola bars, and croissants. I think I’ve baked enough for her. What does that leave me with?”

Silence. My damn cat.Nowshe chooses to be silent?

I shut my door and walked into the shop, perusing the aisles slowly. With each flower, I paused, waiting for inspiration to strike. Only, it never did. Roses felt too formal. Tulips reminded me of Mother’s Day. Carnations were too boring.

“Hey Lex!” I jumped and spun around to find Faye, the florist and shop owner, standing there behind me. She was about my age, give or take a couple of years, and we had met at a local networking meet-up for local business owners when I first opened Latte Da. “Can I help you find something?”

I scrubbed my hands down my face, feeling more than a little out of my element. “I need a bouquet, but… I don’t know the first thing about them.”

“Hmm. Okay. Well, let’s ignore the flowers for a second. Who are you getting them for?”

“Uh… a-a friend.” I was completely caught off guard by her question.

She arched an eyebrow, biting the inside of her cheek to hide her smirk. “Okay. Afriend.”

I sighed heavily and dropped my hands to my side. “Fine. A date. Afirstdate.”

“Okay, then. That’s more like it. Is she from Maple Grove?”

I nodded, inwardly pleading that Faye wasn’t going to grill me to find out who it was. I didn’t know Ronnie exceptionally well, but if I had to guess, she struck me as a very private person. “Born and raised, as far as I know.”

Faye chewed her bottom lip in thought, narrowing her eyes at me. “I’ve got it.”

I eyed her skeptically. “You do?”

“Yes. A bouquet with purple lilacs and Tudor roses.” She fanned her hands out in front of me.

“Isn’t that a little cliché? Roses? And don’t they clash… purple and red?”

“Not just roses.Tudorroses. The symbol for England. And Purple lilacs—the state flower of New Hampshire. A symbol of both you and her.”

I thought about it for a moment. It was a little cheesy, but cute. I was pretty sure Ronnie wouldn’t know a Tudor rose from a regular rose either, but it was a nice gesture… a romantic one… and that was what counted, right?

“And purple and red can look rather beautiful together when done right. Besides, a Tudor rose is mostly white with red tips. Trust me.”

I grinned at her, and before I could nod and agree, Faye had already taken off through the store, grabbing various flowers and greenery, snipping stems and placing each flower carefully next to another. It was like a work of art once she had finished—a beautiful, organic sculpture.

“Wow,” I said, handing her my credit card. “That’s stunning.”

She grinned and shrugged. “I know.”

I laughed.

She slid my card through the reader and pointed to a simple rectangle vase on the counter. “I’m giving you this, too,” she said. “She may already have a vase, but if not, then you have thought of everything.”

I leaned over, signing my name with a stylus. “You’vethought of everything.”

She laughed. “It’s my job to think of everything so you don’t have to.”