Total pages in book: 42
Estimated words: 39840 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 199(@200wpm)___ 159(@250wpm)___ 133(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 39840 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 199(@200wpm)___ 159(@250wpm)___ 133(@300wpm)
“What the-?” she says hotly but snaps her eyes to mine and watches me smile and then shrug. I can only give her a “see, told ya…” expression.
She looks back into the store and, squinting her eyes, she makes out who’s serving.
“I heard through the grapevine that somebody who bought flowers yesterday was a little less than polite,” I explain in a low tone.
Jasmine peers again at who’s serving in her store before I watch her expression shift into a satisfied smile. “Well, well… but how did you…?” she asks, turning back to face me.
“I have my sources,” I explain cryptically. “Janitors hear everything, and good ones report everything back to their boss when asked,” I add.
“But when? How?” Jasmine asks, still wanting all the details, but I only shrug, urging her with my chin. “We should go see how Phil’s doing. Your store’s in capable hands,” I assure her.
Laura might be a passive-aggressive bitch, but she’s a fine attorney and one with a secret passion for floristry it seems. I thought sending her to work for Jasmine might teach her a lesson in manners, but it looks like it’s done more than that. I might’ve just lost one of the best attorneys we have. But, ah, well… plenty more where she came from, I’m sure.
Perhaps if Laura does well, Jasmine could interview her as a prospective employee to help out so she can spend less time standing in her store and more time enjoying herself in other ways.
Jasmine gasps suddenly, as if she’s just remembered something critically important. “Iris! Oh, my God, I totally forgot. I was supposed to go see her this morning,” she groans, closing her eyes tight, beating herself up again.
“Hey,” I croon, taking her hand. “We’re going to go visit Iris once we’ve had some breakfast, okay?”
“It’s still early. We’ve got all morning to go to the hospital. Let’s ask Phil how she’s doing, huh?” I suggest.
Glad when she smiles and wipes her eyes with the back of her hand, I see again how much Iris and Phil mean to her.
“Iris is doing fine,” Phil tells us, ushering us in and surprising me, but not Jasmine so much, when he slides two full plates of bacon, eggs, and toast with roasted tomatoes between us with a pot of fresh coffee nearby which he uses to fill two giant mugs.
“I was going to head down after breakfast,” he adds, and I give Jasmine a knowing look.
“Mind if we join you?” I ask.
“I think Iris would like that,” Phil says, smiling as he looks from Jasmine to me.
I guess we don’t need a sign or T-shirts made up. Anyone with eyesight can see that Jasmine’s mine now, and that I’m hers.
A couple… and all in one day. Most people only dream about this kind of romance, but it does happen.
Phil leaves us to have our breakfast, letting Jasmine know her store’s in great hands as he takes a mug of coffee next door for Laura.
Jasmine absently plucks the petals of a wilting bunch of flowers on the table, most likely out of habit than anything else.
“This is you being a pain in the ass, right?” Jasmine interrogates me once we’re alone.
I think for a moment, hamming it up before smiling a big yes.
“Get used to it,” I remind her. “Because whenever you need something, and every time you don’t, I’m going to be there… spoiling you, helping you,” I continue.
Jasmine suddenly looks shy. Embarrassed. She glances down at her lap as a knowing smile plays on her lips. Her fingers pluck gently at the flowers now.
“What are you thinking?” I ask her after watching her for a while, eating like a starved man as I sit across from her.
Knowing I’ll never be full when it comes to my flower.
My Jasmine.
“He loves me… He loves me not…,” she hums in a low whisper, plucking petals and giving me a dreamy-eyed look.
“He loves me… He loves me…”
“Lots,” I tell her, putting my hand over hers and gazing intently into her eyes until she forgets all about the flowers.
“He loves you lots,” I remind her in a gentler tone, leaning over to kiss her.
And he always will.
Forever and ever.
EPILOGUE
THREE MONTHS LATER
Jasmine
Iris’ recovery was miraculous once she saw James and me together that morning when we visited her in the hospital. Even the doctors said by the way she practically leapt out of the bed, hugging James and me until we couldn’t breathe, it was as though her heart was instantly healed. It’s like seeing me so happy was all she needed to forgive herself for thinking James was anything but madly in love with me.
She still brings me my morning coffee, and I still have flowers set aside for her coffee shop. Not the unsold flowers from the day before, though—there never are any. No, it isn’t James doing his thing where he gets people to buy them because he pays them to.