When Paisley and Sebastian, a rival florist and baker, are hired to collaborate on a wedding cake, they soon discover nothing's fair in love and family drama.
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Paisley DeGran...
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Paisley
On Wednesday, I'm counting down the hours until I can meet Sebastian at a local café. We're meeting Amélie Duclair at four o'clock. I plan on arriving early, buying coffees for both Sebastian and Amélie.
Feeling giddy, I pick up my phone and check the time. Four more hours.
I expel a deep breath, glancing over my shoulder. In the store's corner, my knapsack and jacket are in a pile. Inside the knapsack is my portfolio. It contains a photo book of previous designs, and some pricing. Not only am I designing bouquets for Amélie and her bridesmaids but also flower arrangements for tables and around the altar.
Amélie's wedding is happening on December 1st. My design will depend on her preferences, but my mind is running rampant with ideas. White and red roses, pine cones, evergreen fronds, tallow berries, sugared cranberries, and metallic silver baby's breath. Or maybe a bright cascading bouquet with royal blue roses and blue halo calla lilies. They'd pop against cream-coloured roses and winter foliage. If she wants a few bedazzled rhinestone snowflakes in there, too, I could add them in. The options are endless.
The level of creativity is why I adore this job. Why, one day, when my parents decide to retire, I want to take over the shop. Or open my own, if they decide to never give up ownership.
Turning back to the project before me, I pick up my paring knife. Removing thorns from roses is a good way to pass the time. I have several bouquets I need to assemble before leaving. This morning, we received a shipment of contemporary pumpkin containers. They're white porcelain embossed with gold accents. Convincing Mom and Dad to buy them from a local store was difficult, but I convinced them. They thought my approach to our fresh autumn bouquets was flawless.
I have to agree with them.
As much as I hate dwelling on my pride, pride is all I feel when I see my work on display. Just like Sebastian says, I have a keen eye for colour and texture.
With every year that passes, my skills improve. So far, these autumn arrangements are my best masterpiece. Cream hypericum and assorted greenery accent peach roses, white button poms, autumn-coloured daisy poms and purple Limonium. They're medium-sized arrangements, perfect for Thanksgiving centrepieces or gifts.
After removing thorns from a dozen roses, my phone goes off. King of My Heart by Taylor Swift echoes through the small shop, gaining the attention of a few customers. I flash them an apologetic smile. Flower shops, much like libraries and bookstores, have a peaceful aura to them. Rupturing the silence feels wrong.
I set my paring knife down and remove my gloves before picking up my phone.
"Hello?" I ask, lowering my voice.
"You're working with Sebastian?!" Shakita exclaims. "That is not something you text your best friend! You call for these things, Paisley! That is some high-quality information."
