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Franco Castellano glanced at his Rolex as Ivy arranged his order. It was his mother's birthday and even if three years had passed, he still had a lot to learn about flower language.

But Ivy had helped him a lot.

She was a breath of fresh air from his chaotic world. Ivy was busy with her own business but she didn't mind if ever he would come and hang around.

Though she told him once that she would've been more thankful if he helped in the store.

Her bluntness made him laugh so he decided to help out in the marketing aspect of the flower shop.

His phone chimed and Castor's message sprang up.

'Tell her I'm busy. Or make up excuses.'

He rolled his eyes at his brother's stupidity. But thank god he was used to it. He knew Castor's weakness after all.

'I'll tell Caly'

'Fuck you! Are we family or not?"

'Caly's my sister tho.'

'Fckkkkk'

He chuckled and sent him a laughing emoji.

"What are you laughing at?" Ivy mumbled, handing him the bouquet of purple and pink hydrangeas. "Here. Tell your mother a happy birthday for me."

Franco nodded. "Thanks. And I'll need one more—"

"For who?" She flushed and corrected her question. "I mean, is there another celebration?"

"Yeah." He stifled his laugh. "What do girls like to receive?"

"Finally! You realize that you haven't ordered flowers for your dates and such, right?" She chuckled before she clasped her hands together. "Anyway, I suggest camellia for affection and admiration. Amaryllis for beauty. Light red carnations are also great."

"What would you like to receive?"

"Me?" Her brown eyes widened as she took off her rubber gloves. "I don't know. But sunflowers or yellow roses would be nice."

"Then give me both of that."

Ivy gaped at him. "But—"

"Okay. I'll be direct," Franco muttered, saving her from further confusion.

Castor, as much as he hated it, had told him once to stop beating around the bush and say what he wants, that women were as clueless as men. He had said it at his bachelor's party that PJ had to remind him that it took him years before telling Caly what he felt.

Franco even thought that it wasn't really good advice at that time but of course, his drunken mind could barely register anything.

But yes, Cas had a point.

It had been three years since he met Ivy.

"Can I ask you out?"

"W-what?" she stammered. "But Franco... I'm not sure that I—"

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