Snowdrop Kisses Part Two
A serialised holiday romance involving a plucky florist and a tall dark and handsome entrepreneur
Previously… Wendy Blake, dressed in a Santa suit, bumped into James Crofton on the way to a singing flower delivery for her florist shop, Love’s Bouquet. Meanwhile, James worried about his impending business deal with Minna Smythe.
Chapter 3
Wendy’s morning was less triumphant. Even as she marched in front of an enraptured “SnuggleTits” belting out “The Little Drummer Boy”, she had to question both her client’s taste and their sanity. Still, Gavin and SnuggleTits seemed happy, cuddling in the doorway as Wendy gamely air drummed her way to the song’s triumphant crescendo.
It was a chilly morning, though Ottawa’s streets still hadn’t accumulated any significant snow cover. Her fingers ached with the cold as she unlocked the shop’s door. She could hear the landline ringing inside. Dropping her bag, she lunged for the receiver. “Love's Bouquet.” She reached up, pulled off her Santa hat, and started removing the makeup from her face with a wipe.
“I see you’ve finally decided to roll in,” said a gruff voice.
“It’s only ten to ten, Harry. Last time I checked, being ten minutes early was considered — well — early.”
Harry Hepple harrumphed in reply.
“What can I do for you?” Harry owned a rambling brick monster of a house he ran as a Bed and Breakfast — not an AirBnB as he was quick to point out — in the heart of The Glebe, Ottawa’s wealthy residential district, which was about ten blocks north of Wendy’s store.
“I want six bouquets,” he barked. “Make three of those orchid-fern things from a month ago. White and red for Christmas. I’m going to let you decide on the other three, as long as it’s not that awful iris concoction you gave me last week. That was so dull I thought I was at my own funeral. Try to do something bright and fun; I’ve got some children coming through in the next day or two.”
“I’ll do roses, with mistletoe, or maybe even red tulips.”
“Fine,” he said. There was a pause at the other end of the line. “My late wife and I never had any ankle-biters, you know.”
Wendy frowned. Was that a note of loneliness in Harry’s voice?
His usual brusque tone returned: “Why doesn’t a young woman like you have three of the little monsters hanging onto her skirts? It’s not too late.”
“Check the calendar, old man,” she replied, relieved to return to their usual banter. “It’s not the 1950s. I don’t need a baby any more than you need a sunny disposition.”
Harry chuckled. “That’s what I like about you, Wendy. You don’t put up with my nonsense.”
“It’s always my pleasure to take you down a peg. I’ll have your flowers ready this afternoon. We can continue verbally abusing each other then.”
“I look forward to it.”
Hanging up, Wendy walked to the bank of fridges in the back of the store, turning the shop’s lights on as she went. As always, preparing for the day’s business gave her a thrill of pleasure. When she’d opened the shop three years ago, she spent a weekend stencilling ladybugs and daisies all over the yellow walls. She wanted to make it a warm inviting place, filled with lush smells and bright flowers. This year she’d gone a little overboard with the Christmas decorations. The store was now heaving with garlands, red bows, twinkle lights and miniature reindeer. Her assistant said it looked like RuPaul and Mariah Carey had had a baby, which Wendy took as the compliment it was.
At the back of the store was a small office where she changed from the Santa costume into her usual khakis and t-shirt. Next, she snipped creamy white orchids and selected fresh green ferns from the fridge. She worked quickly. Her assistant didn’t come in on Fridays, leaving Wendy alone.
Her phone chimed, alerting her to an email to the business account. It was from LCC. Kim generally called the orders in, so things must be busy today.
Wendy examined the screen. There were two orders. Minna Smythe was getting dumped, and Norah Lawson was getting a ‘Looking forward to working with you’ note.
Apparently the CEO of of LCC was mixing business and pleasure this time. Wendy felt sorry for James Crofton’s girlfriends. He went through them like Kleenex. She knew first hand how devastating it was to be used. Martin had treated her terribly, but even on his best day he couldn’t have out-sleazed James Crofton who was steadily working his way through the single female population of the National Capital Region.
Wendy laid the order on the worktable and pulled the roses from the fridge. No matter what she thought of Crofton, his regular ‘Buh Bye Bouquets’ were a nice, dependable stream of income.
Once the bouquets were ready Wendy dialled the delivery service. That should take care of Mr. Crofton, at least until next month when he dumped another poor victim.
Chapter 4
A couple of hours later James Crofton gritted his teeth and silently cursed the name “Love's Bouquet.” The store was the reason he was now staring at the pinched face of Minna Smythe, future investor in LCC. Or at least she had been, until she received her “break-up” bouquet.
James wondered again how Norah’s flowers had gone to Mrs. Smythe. Kim had come down with a migraine, so he couldn’t rely on his assistant to clean up this mess. He had taken Mrs. Smythe out to lunch at a cozy bistro near her home in a vain attempt to stem her wrath.
“More tea, Mrs. Smythe?” He raised his hand and a hovering waiter rushed over.
“No, it’s fine, thank you. Now, I must say, this explanation of yours leaves a great deal to be desired.” She stared at him over the top of her glasses.
“As I’ve told you. It was a mix-up. I know the note on the bouquet said that I didn’t think things would work out, but those flowers were never meant for you. I was breaking off an unsatisfactory… uh… arrangement.”
The older woman crossed her arms. “If you can’t even keep your paramours,” she levelled him with a shrewd stare, “and your investors straight, I fear my money might not be well-used. I see now that I’m going to have to keep a much closer eye on my investment.”
James stifled a groan. The last thing he wanted was Mrs. Smythe sticking her beaklike nose into LCC’s daily business. She had agreed to be a silent partner. “Now, Minna — may I call you that?” He smiled at her, deploying his irresistible Crofton twinkle.
She glared back at him.
He cleared his throat and continued. “Mrs. Smythe, we’re both businesspeople, and we’re looking for the best return on our money, right?”
Her mouth tightened, as if biting a large, sour lemon.
James was undaunted. “You’re an intelligent, savvy woman, surely you know that I’m watching out for both our interests?”
Her expression softened, taking some of the edge off her retort. “I did, until this morning indicated that you’re thinking with an organ other than your brain.”
James laughed. He had to admire Minna’s toughness. Indeed, it was precisely that quality that convinced him to entertain her offer; after all, she had no background in software .
He could see she was determined to punish him for this mistake. Very well. He’d let her enjoy herself — for now. Success in business often meant choosing your battles. When Minna got home she’d enjoy a good chuckle at his expense, and then revert to the silent partner status they originally agreed upon. He was certain she had no real interest in involving herself in how he ran his company. “I can see I’m dealing with a worthy partner. Why don’t we think about go-forward strategies for LCC over the weekend and get in touch next week?”
“Very well.” She stood, and James helped her on with an ancient mink. Even with Ottawa’s bitter winters, you didn’t see many furs these days; Minna was obviously a woman who even PETA thought twice before crossing.
He ushered her into her waiting Mercedes and waved goodbye. The next item on this disastrous day’s agenda was to sort out what had happened with the bouquets. James was determined to make someone pay for his wasted time. He strode down Bank Street, clutching his phone. Love’s Bouquet was just a block away.
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