“Of course. What’s up?”
She heaved a sigh. “I’m going to sell the shop.”
“No . . . Why? What happened?”
“A lot of things. I’m going to move back to Florida to be closer to my mom and sister. This divorce is hell. Frankly, I just don’t have the energy . . . or the love for the shop anymore.”
My heart bled for her. She’d worked so hard to start the shop and see it grow in the last few years.
“I’d like you to take it over. You’re a great florist, and I know you love working at Happy Flowers.”
I didn’t know how to respond. It was my dream to own a flower shop, but I wasn’t sure if this was the right time for me. Plus my heart ached for Morgan. The shop was her dream. I couldn’t understand abandoning it. Perhaps her family could help her heal from this life crisis.
My mind swerved to practical matters.Numbers.
“I’d love to, Morgan, but I’m not sure I can afford to right now.”
We talked about numbers, sales, inventory, and projections for the year. Sales had increased from last month, with the numbers still climbing. I knew Happy Flowers would continue to profit, but my savings wouldn’t be able to cover all the expenses. She said she’d sit with me to go over everything tomorrow, so I would know exactly where the store stood.
After our conversation, an estimate of three hundred thousand dollars floated in my mind. That number included the takeover, with enough wiggle room for changes tailored to my vision and so on. I had hoped to have a sizable chunk saved so I wouldn’t need a massive bank loan. Would a bank even give me that amount right now?
Morgan had other potential buyers in mind, but she made me the offer first. I asked Morgan to give me a week to think about it.
Was I ready for this change? I decided a walk would help me juggle the pros and cons. This was a huge decision, and I didn’t want to make a mistake.
I wandered around Coolidge Corner and back to Etched Square, browsing the adorable shops and imagining myself as an owner. The freedom to create thrilled me. I could make all the decisions and offer mini floral arrangement classes for people. A collection of plants in unique pottery would be fantastic gift ideas for men. Most of the gift items in flower shops were geared toward women, so I wanted to look into that angle to increase profits. Just thinking about it excited me, but the numbers.Ugh.
Before I knew it, I was glancing at a flower shop called Helena’s Flowers. It was at the corner of Etched Square. A customer exited, carrying a bouquet of colorful gerbera daisies. From the window display, this store embraced a country flair. Itdiffered from Happy Flowers, which was more sophisticated and elegant—more my style.
A series of ideas bloomed in my head, making me smile.
I can do this.
Focusing on the joy, I entered the shop, thinking about finances and how I’d been frugal trying to save up for my dream. Every extra dollar counted, and I was proud of myself for what I’d accomplished. Even if it wasn’t as much as someone like Kain. He was a billionaire who didn’t have to worry about these financial things. Could our relationship survive this difference? I hated this nagging insecurity.
His words echoed in my head, reminding me that he came from humble beginnings. He worked hard for his accomplishments, and the horror of his past drove him to success. What drove me was a simple dream. I wasn’t kidnapped and forced to do heinous things.
My heart ached, longing to remove that nightmare from him.
In today’s world, people measure your value based on your bank account. It was how things operated.
Stop sabotaging yourself. You’re worth more than numbers, Eva.
I browsed the beautiful rustic decor filled with flowers and plants. I smiled at the barn display, holding a selection of vases filled with sunflowers. Cowboy hats and boots were also used in the decor. Overall, I felt the southern charm that stood out in the New England town.
“When will the new bleeding hearts shipment arrive?” asked a man who sounded familiar.
He looked like the man who had ordered bleeding hearts from Happy Flowers, but I couldn’t recall his name. He wore a navy tracksuit and a red baseball cap.
“Maybe in a month or two,” said the woman wearing afloral dress with a brown leather belt. Her auburn hair was tied in a ponytail with a leather strap. She tied a bouquet of bleeding hearts with a red ribbon. “These came from my cousin, who lives in Georgia, but she’ll be busy with her new baby for the next few months.”
“Ah, I see.” He tucked his hands into his pockets.
“Are these for your girlfriend or wife?” asked the associate.
“Girlfriend.”
“I have to admit, not too many people buy bleeding heart bouquets.”
