Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76456 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76456 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Baby steps.
When I got up in the morning, Vega was passed out on the living room couch with her arm thrown over her eyes, a show still playing on the TV, and a big half-eaten bowl of popcorn on the coffee table.
As much as I wanted to, I knew better than to clean up the popcorn. She would wake up and eat handfuls of it for breakfast. No matter how stale it was.
I did cover her in a blanket before going through my morning routine—eating, cleaning, then dressing in the simple green linen skirt with the buttons all the way up and the chunky winter white sweater. I added some leggings for some extra warmth, then pulled my hair up into a ponytail, leaving a few tendrils around my face.
I did minimum makeup, as I always did, spritzed on my favorite, light perfume, a mix of vanilla and rose that smelled feminine and soft, then started to bundle myself up to brave the cold.
As much as I did like work, I had to admit to myself that when I walked out of the front door of the apartment building and saw the mounds so high that they dwarfed me, I was having second thoughts about going to the store.
But, having no choice, I warmed up my car while giving myself a pep talk about how this was Maine, and the road crews were used to snow, that they knew how to handle it.
Still, my knuckles were white and my heart was slamming in my chest as I drove as slowly as possible but still moving forward.
Main Street in Balm Harbor was possibly the most idyllic town I had ever seen. The home and shop owners were all in agreement that they wanted to keep the town quaint and historic, while having that coastal charm that drew in droves of tourists in the spring and summer seasons.
I’d been charmed from the first moment I’d driven into town, seeing the bright, primary-colored storefronts with their nostalgic awnings, hand-painted signs, and carefully arranged displays in their front windows.
The streets were lined with actual gas lanterns and the sidewalks were classic red penny bricks.
In the summer, flowers would be spilling out of pots in front of businesses, from window boxes, and even in hangers from the black gas lamps.
It was still charming under over a foot of snow.
Though not many businesses were choosing to be open during such a bad storm, deciding instead to take it as a sign from the universe to stay in their cozy beds or in front of the fire with their significant others.
Rain, shine, or crazy snowstorm, though, La Flora never closed its doors. Dennis claimed that humans needed basic necessities. Food, water, medicine, and access to flowers.
Which was interesting because since I’d started working at La Flora about a year before, I had only seen Dennis twice. And once was when he was hiring me.
For someone so devoted to the flower business, he was oddly hands-off about it.
I wasn’t complaining, though, because with him being hands-off, I got to be hands-on.
Which was the only thing that had me parking my car at the top of the hill, not wanting to risk it on the slope that led down to the shop, and trudging in knee-deep snow down the unshoveled sidewalks of all the closed businesses.
By the time I made it to La Flora, everything below my waist and my entire face was completely numb.
The front windows were bare of arrangements, since a little trick of the florist trade was that flowers lasted longer when they sit in the fridge at night, so everything was in the back in the coolers.
I fumbled with frigid fingers for my key to the door, glancing up at my reflection in the glass.
Pink cheeks with pale skin, my medium-brown hair neatly pulled back, which made my light green eyes pop even more. Nothing spectacular, but pretty enough. And very put-together. Which was important to me.
The door chimes let out a soft little melody as I swung it open, quick to close it so the wind gusts didn’t blow any messy snow inside the pristine shop.
La Flora wasn’t a huge store, but it was roomy enough with white walls that allowed the flowers to be the stars of the show.
Metal and off-white porcelain buckets sat empty all around, ready for fresh water and flowers. Assorted houseplants sat in their planters along shelves on the walls. We sold a big display of houseplants as well, something that made up a nice chunk of the daily business. To the far wall was a set up of gifts as well. Small plushies to go with the flowers. Some jewelry. Locally made candles and body scrubs and lotions.
Taking a slow, deep breath, I felt my shoulders relax as I moved through the shop to hang up my coat, scarf, and damp gloves before cranking up the heat for a moment, at least until I got a pot of tea going to warm me up from the inside out.