Miranda Dickinson 2 Book Bundle. Miranda Dickinson
Ed, there’s a customer—I’d better go…’
Ed growled in defeat as I left.
‘Good afternoon, welcome to Kowalski’s,’ I chirped happily.
The new customer was inspecting one of our large displays by the door. When he heard me, he spun round. ‘Hi.’
I froze. ‘Hi,’ I responded weakly.
Nate Amie grinned as he approached me. ‘Your store is cool,’ he said, offering his hand.
I regained my composure and accepted his greeting. ‘Thanks. I like it.’
‘So do your customers, it would seem.’ Nate smiled, his deep brown eyes circumnavigating my shop and then finally returning to me. ‘I heard you’re rapidly gaining favour with the great and the good of New York.’
‘Yes. Thanks to Mimi Sutton, it seems…’ I checked his expression, but it didn’t alter. ‘Although I think it’s going to bring me more problems than benefits. I’d prefer people to recommend me on my own merits, rather than being a token of someone else’s—’ I stopped, shocked at myself. ‘I’m sorry—I shouldn’t have said that.’
Nate’s amusement was evident as a smile danced across his face. ‘No, no, I agree with you. It’s no fun being a pawn in someone else’s power game. Believe me, I know.’
Hmm, interesting…But while the temptation to press him further on this comment was immense, I fought it valiantly and changed the subject. ‘So, how come you decided to sample the great delights of Kowalski’s today?’
‘I was in the neighbourhood and…Oh, wow, you have coffee too?’ He moved to the counter and laughed when he saw Old F. ‘I see the culprit, but I don’t believe it. Tell me, how can a smell so good come from something so battered?’
‘Don’t mock Old Faithful till you’ve tried his coffee,’ I defended, walking behind the counter and patting the machine protectively. ‘Appearances can be deceptive, Mr Amie. Don’t be fooled. You are looking at one of the great, undiscovered talents of New York City.’
Nate turned to look straight in my eyes and I caught my breath. ‘Oh, really? I’m always waiting for my perceptions to be disproved. So, surprise me…’ Seeing my expression, he added, ‘If that’s an offer, I’d love a coffee.’
As I prepared Old F for another vociferous onslaught on fine espresso blend, I checked myself. For absolutely no reason whatsoever, my hands were shaking. Get a grip, girl, the little voice in my mind scolded me. This is not—repeat, NOT—a big deal. He’s simply come to see the shop, like any other customer. You are in control, repeat with me now, you are in control. I am in control, I repeated with silent internal obedience. Really, I am…I poured three mugs of coffee and put two on the counter. Picking up the other, I looked up at Nate.
‘Here’s your coffee. Feel free to look round…I’ll just take this to my co-designer.’
‘No need,’ Ed said, appearing beside me and nearly getting a hot caffeine shower in the process. ‘He’s here. Hi, I’m Ed Steinmann, Rosie’s co-designer.’
Nate smiled and they shook hands. ‘Nate Amie—I’m an admirer of Rosie’s work.’
‘That so?’ Ed turned to me with an innocent smile, thinly veiling the mischief within. ‘Good, well, I must carry on her great work, so if you’ll excuse me…’ As he passed me, he whispered, ‘Mr Nobody, huh? Ni-i-i-ice…’ I resisted the urge to trip him over, resorting instead to a forced smile in his direction.
Nate sampled his coffee and let out a low growl of satisfaction. ‘Now that is great coffee.’
I patted Old F lovingly. ‘You see, I told you.’
‘Indeed you did.’
There was a pause. We exchanged smiles and sipped our officially certified Excellent Coffee. Now, at this moment I suppose I should have been thinking of the next highly efficient and consummately In Control thing to say. But I wasn’t. I was too busy noticing the way Nate’s right eyebrow lifted at a complimentary angle to his lop-sided grin. And how the shadow of his brow darkened his eyes, increasing the intensity of their gaze…
‘So…I decided to come visit because I need to make an order,’ Nate stated suddenly. ‘It could be a regular order,’ he added.
‘That’s fine,’ I replied, my control returning.
‘It’s just that I don’t know what to…uh…I guess I need some advice, Rosie,’ he frowned. He put his mug down on the counter and twisted it slowly from side to side. ‘Here’s the thing: I’ve ordered I don’t know how many of these bouquets before, but they’re all the same. I want to send something different now. I…I need something different.’
I nodded. ‘Ah, I see you’re experiencing what we in the business call The What Do You Get For The Woman Who Has Everything dilemma?’ I smiled calmly, mentally awarding myself several brownie points. Thank you, Celia… It’s amazing how one titbit of background info about Nate’s love life had transformed me now from Regular Florist to Official Font of All Knowledge.
His eyes widened slightly. ‘Yes—how did you know?’
‘I just guessed,’ I replied, hoping my air of wisdom didn’t belie the truth. ‘Well, I suppose it all comes down to what you want to say to the lady in question.’
Nate shook his head, confused. ‘Sorry, you lost me. What I want to say?’
I took a breath. It’s always difficult attempting to explain how I work. Right from the first time I ever designed a floral arrangement, I found I instinctively knew what I wanted to say. ‘Say it with flowers’ is an old cliché, I know, but it’s essentially what I do in my work. My designs aren’t solely based on colours, species or scents, although these are obviously important components. Instead, each one has a meaning, an emotion to convey, with a deeper significance than just a nice thought. Mr Kowalski used to say there are many reasons why people choose to send flowers—celebration, commemoration, declaration, apology, regret…
‘But you got to look beyond the reason and convey the Big Story. It’s not the What but the Why. Why is this man saying sorry? Is he apologising for a mistake he made, or for the man he finds he has become? You gotta be detective, doctor and counsellor when you create something, believing that what you create will have the power to change somebody’s life. Design with your eyes, your wisdom and your heart.’
People have said that I design as if I intimately know the person who is going to receive the flowers. I can’t explain it any better than Mr K put it, really—I design with my eyes, my wisdom and my heart.
Nate’s eyes focused on a point a million miles away. Thoughts I wasn’t party to washed over his face and his voice was quiet when he spoke. ‘I…I guess I need to think about what my story is, then. I need to think…I’d like to come back and hear more, Rosie. And talk about it. Would you talk about it with me? Look, I have some time free tomorrow—about the same time. Can I make an appointment for coffee then?’
This was utterly unexpected, but inexplicably welcome. ‘Of course,’ I replied softly. ‘No problem at all, Nate.’
Once Nate had left the shop, Ed appeared from the back room like an inquisitive meerkat from its burrow. ‘Hmm. So that’ll be three times you’ve spoken, to date. And would I be correct to assume he’s just booked a fourth?’
I ignored him and flipped the Open sign to Closed.
‘Aw, come on, Rosie, you gotta tell me now. I just shook hands with your secret guy. We’re practically family.’
‘I’m going to cash up,’ I replied coolly, going to open the till. But Ed never gives up. Not without a fight, anyhow. He reached over, pushed the till drawer shut, stole the key and sprinted to the other side of the room, holding his trophy aloft.