Page 131 of Ruthless Contract

Page List
Font Size:

The first company I called apologized right away and told me they were out of those flowers. The second supplier had similar flowers, but not enough to complete my order. The third couldn't get them for another two weeks.

Frustration had made my head ache fiercely when the fourth supplier told me they no longer carried such flowers. What the absolute fuck!

"This is unbelievable," I muttered after ending yet another call.

Though it stung my pride to do so, I’d had no choice but to call one of the biggest floral shops in the city, our rivals, and see if they had the flowers. They did. And they had the amount we needed.

I could just hear the smugness in the owner’s voice after I told her where I wanted the flowers delivered to.

“Oh, this is Blossoms and Vines,” she drawled. “I’m surprised you ladies don’t have a supplier for this. You really need to get one. It’s unprofessional not to have one. And during the wedding season at that.”

You funky bitch!

All I could do was grit my teeth and bear it. But all I could think was...

We’d had one, bitch. They’d closed down all of a sudden.

The important thing right now wasn’t my pride. It was that the wedding would be saved and the bride would have the venue decorated just the way she wanted it. And that was all that mattered.

After placing the order, I’d rested my head on my desk, feeling damn near defeated by the past couple of days.

"It's just one of those weeks," I murmured to myself.

The problem was, the week only got worse from there. The very next day, I sat alone in the back office with my laptop open in front of me, staring at emails that were pissing me the fuck off.

I hadn't slept much the night before. The issues with the shop, the stress of getting ready to leave my mom behind for a while, and these unresolved issues with Rome were starting to make me physically sick.

I had a migraine that wouldn’t go away, and I was on edge all the time. And opening my emails this morning had only pushed me over the edge. I sat there, staring at my inbox, recognizing the suppliers’ names, wondering what the hell they were emailing me for.

I was scared to open the messages. Afraid of what they would say. I couldn’t handle any more canceled shipments right now. It took me thirty minutes to work up the courage to click on the first one.

The first one made my stomach sink. It was from our ribbon supplier. For years, they'd personalized the ribbons we wrapped around our bouquets, gift boxes, and arrangements. Every spool proudly displayed the Blossoms and Vines logo.

They were terminating our contract.

There was no explanation. Just an email apologizing that they would no longer be able to do business with us. The fuck? I frowned and immediately opened the next email. It was from our vase supplier.

They were the company that took my sketches and transformed them into custom vases our customers couldn't find anywhere else. They, too, were ending our contract without giving a reasonwhy they no longer wanted to work with us. A knot formed in my stomach.

"This shit can’t be happening."

I quickly clicked the third email. It was from our packaging supplier. They were the company that manufactured our shipping boxes with the Blossoms and Vines logo and supplied the specialty packaging materials that kept our flowers fresh and vibrant during shipping.

They were also terminating our contract. I slowly leaned back in my chair and stared at my laptop screen. Three companies. Three. One would’ve seemed like a coincidence. But three... three seemed like sabotage.

"What the hell is going on?"

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

BLOSSOM

––––––––

I pushed away from my desk and headed toward our small inventory room. If I couldn't solve the problem today, I needed to find a way around it. Flipping on the light, I looked around the shelves.

We still had some branded boxes on hand. But they’d run out quickly. I stared at the shelf that held stacks of plain white shipping boxes. If I couldn’t find someone else to work with soon, we’d have to use these.

Customers would notice the difference, but they would still receive their flowers. That was what mattered. My gaze shifted toward another shelf where extra ribbon was stored.