“Oh, finally!” Ms. Perez frowns, walking up to me from where she was patrolling the front desk, as an exceptional manager does when it’s this busy, I guess.
One of her security guards hurries over to help me by scooting the old arrangement out of the way, its flowers brown at the edges, leaves and garnishes limp. If I had brought this when I was supposed to, that eyesore wouldn’t have greeted everyone who has come into the hotel all last night and this morning.
I wince at the sight and apologize, marble vase heavy in both hands at my front, Ralphie quietly a supportive companion at my back. “I’m so sorry I didn’t bring your replacement last night, Ms. Perez! I’ll take twenty-percent off of your bill to make up for it.”
Fingering a white hydrangea petal on the new arrangement of purple and white flowers, before I set it down, she announces, “Thirty percent!” watching as I hurry to place it where the other was, the security guard departing to a safer distance.
A deep voice says, “A thirty percent discount for being only a few hours late?” and I look behind me to discover a very handsome man in a suit approaching us. He looks to be somewhere in his thirties, with black hair and amused brown eyes, one eyebrow cocked. “A little extreme. That’s not like you, Perez.”
The manager snaps to attention, stiff and professionally respectful. “Mr. Astor, good morning.”
With his eyes locked on me, he extends his hand and introduces himself, “Caleb Astor III, and you are?”
Darting a worried look to my valued and very new customer, I answer, “Zoe Cocker…the first.”
A grin flashes then disappears as he releases my nervous fingers and inspects my design with interest. “I’d say this is one of the best hotel flower arrangements I’ve seen, and I travel extensively.”
Ms. Perez explains, “Yes, it’s beautiful. I even like it more than the last, but we expected to have this yesterday and the old one has been in…decline. It was an eyesore for our guests.”
He dryly asks, “Then why didn’t you remove it last night?”
“That’s my job,” I interrupt Ms. Perez before she tries to defend herself, which I don’t want her to have to do, adding an earnest, “It was my fault. I don’t mind. And thirty percent is fine. That’s fair.” I offer a smile. “I’ll do whatever it takes to smooth over my mistake. I’m very grateful for the honor, and I’d love to continue designing for you, Ms. Perez, if you’d like me to.”
Shifting her weight, she counters, “Twenty percent discount is fair, Zoe.”
She brought it back down to my original discount! Why doesn’t that make me feel better? Oh! It’s because she didn’t address my mention of future orders.
Caleb Astor III may have noticed it, too, because he offers with a purposeful gleam in his eyes, “My family is having a retirement party for my father here this coming Saturday. My mother hasn’t found a florist she’s happy with yet. I’d like to hire you to supply the arrangements. There will be five hundred in attendance.”
My eyes go wide and I stammer, “I…I’d love to!” Calming myself I try to speak more slowly, like someone who knows what she’s doing. Experienced. “Do you have a palette for the event? Would you like a standing spray?”
“A…standing spray?” he asks.
“It’s one of those large arrangements that sits on an easel. If there’s a podium for speeches, they can be very pretty.” I offer an example to help his picture it, “You see them a lot at funerals?”
“He’s retiring, not dying.”
I blush, “They’re also for benefits, special occasions. I was just mentioning funerals because most people have been to one, and have seen them there.”
“I was kidding,” he informs me. “Do you have a card?”
“Oh.” I wriggle out of the backpack, unzip its side pocket to get my phone. “I have a QR code you can scan that will take you to my website.”
“Meow!” Ralphie hollers, his desire for attention echoing throughout the vast opulence.
Glancing to Ms. Perez and feeling as if I should have been more careful since I’m so late, I hastily apologize, “Sorry about bringing my cat here without asking.” I don’t feel nearly half as cool as Hunter is, with my apology, believing that in this case I really should have asked permission first.
Ms. Perez informs me, “We allow cats and dogs fifteen pounds and under. We even provide our guests with pet amenities.”
“That’s wonderful,” I smile, aware that she’s more likely to be seeking Caleb’s approval with this information than mine. Still, I’m impressed. “I think more businesses should take your lead.”
Ms. Perez’s, “Thank you,” is subdued and followed by a quick, “It’s company policy. But if it were up to me, I’d do the same.”
“You didn’t think of it,” Caleb clarifies.
“That’s correct.”
“Either way,” I interject, trying to ease the tension and wondering why he’s not being nicer to her, “It’s a great idea and I’m sure guests are very happy to have that policy!”
Ms. Perez smiles at me as if gratified by my compliment, but now it feels like there’s nothing left to be said. She comes to attention as a front-desk clerk calls over to her, “Ma’am?” bows her head and escapes.
At the look of disapproval in Caleb’s eyes as he watches her go, I offer, “You have to understand, this is one of the best hotels in the world. Their standards are exceptionally high. That’s why she was going to dock me thirty percent. It wasn’t personal.”
“I’m aware of this hotel’s quality. It’s why I’m staying here. And why my father’s retirement is being held in their hall. My standards are exceptionally high.”
Flummoxed, I hurry to say, “I’m sure they are! I didn’t mean to imply they weren’t.”
He considers me for a moment, and our gazes remain locked. He’s ridiculously good looking, isn’t he? Just enough stubble to be rugged but not unkempt, and though I’m not a connoisseur of suits by anyone’s imagination, his looks expensive and may have been tailored, it fits so well. “Can I pet your pussy?”
I blink. “Excuse me?”
“Your cat.”
“Oh! Yes, of course.” Unzipping the backpack, I hold it open to Caleb Astor III. “This is Ralphie.”
“Cute.”
“He’s a supermodel! His full name is Ralphie Rooster,” I explain as Caleb reaches in to pet him, “but I just call him RALPHIE!” I shout as my cat springs out of the backpack and latches himself onto a beautiful wooden column. “Get down from there!” Ralphie vaults and lands on the stairs, looking around like he’s plotting his next leap. We race forward but he dives out of reach, sprinting between the legs of patrons. Around the foyer we chase my cat until I finally remember the treats I always keep zipped up in my pack. To him up on a lamp shade, I hold them out and coo, “Here Ralphie, what do I have? Look at this! Yum yum yum! Come on baby.” He gracefully drops to the floor and strolls over to me like he lives here and has all the time in the world. I let him enjoy a bite before scooping the fluffy little menace up and tucking him into my pack. “Works every time.”
Caleb asks, “He’s done this before?”
“Never.”
He cocks his head like he doesn’t understand me, and grins, “Zoe…Cocker, was it?”
Lifting up my backpack, I slide on the straps, making sure it’s secure so that Ralphie is comfortable. “That’s me.”
“Any relation to the Falcon’s quarterback?”
“Eric is my cousin.”
“Then the rockstar must be…”
“Gabriel is also my cousin.” I’m aware they’ve been linked in news articles, both very high-profile. As is Gabriel’s twin who followed their father into politics so I fill in the blanks for him by adding, “Elijah Cocker, too, yes.”
“You’ve been asked this before.”
“We’re pretty well known in Atlanta.”
“Huh,” my new employer nods, sizing me up in a new way. “What is the name of your business?”
“Florist Shop.”
He stares at me, silent a moment. “Florist Shop?”
“I wanted to be found.”
“I see,” he smiles. “Smart.”
Scooping up my hair that fell out of its messy bun during the chase, I tame it into a high ponytail while confessing, “I can’t take credit. That was the idea of my other cousin, Ethan. He’s a computer genius so…”
“Tight family?”
“Very tight.”
“Huh,” Caleb says again as he heads for the elevator. “I’ll be in touch.”
My focus is on him until the doors whoosh closed. He smirks at me right before they do, and my heart pounds. Caught.
I wonder what his family is like. Maybe the same? Five hundred guests for a retirement party, that’s an incredible number. I don’t remember any Astors from school, or from any stories that my own family — extended and otherwise — have told about their lives in Atlanta.
Carefully I gather fallen, dead leaves, and shove them into the old arrangement’s vase, lifting and hauling it toward the exit. I give a grateful smile to the security guard, “Thank you for helping me.”
He returns my smile, “My pleasure,” with a dip of his chin.
“That is quite an honor, Zoe,” Ms. Perez informs me, sure strides bringing her to my side as I walk. “The Astors are a highly respected family from New York. With an appointment like that you might even be able to franchise.”
Pausing by the door, with sunlight pouring onto these wilting flowers, I turn to Ms. Perez and honestly say, “I don’t have a dream of franchising.”
“It could be very lucrative.”
“I don’t need much to be happy. I just like having my little shop and just doing the best job I can.” Taking an earnest step closer I hold Ms. Perez gaze as I insist, “I really am sorry about being late. It won’t happen again.”
She softens. “Apology accepted, Zoe. Have a good day.”
“Thank you. You too, Ms. Perez.” I head away.
She stops me with, “And Zoe?”
I turn and am warmed by her smile. “Yes?”
“You did a beautiful job on that arrangement. Purple is my favorite color.”
Beaming with surprise, I confess, “You’re not alone,” thinking of Mrs. Porter’s late husband, and call out, “I’ll remember that,” as I watch her disappear inside.
Author's Note:
Hi!
If you spot any typos, send them my way: Contact@faleenahopkins.com
They’re sneaky li’l suckers. ;-)
Thank you, and I hope you’re having fun!
Faleena Hopkins
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