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Now…turn the page for a special sneak peek of
TAMING THE BOSS.
TAMING THE BOSSMADDIE
I’d never played matchmaker before, but I was tempted to start now.
The owners of the two flower shops in town clearly had something sparking between them, and without a push, they’d never make it happen. They were too busy creating sparks of another variety.
Out of the corner of my eye, I watched as Bess Wainwright, proprietress of the new flower shop in town, A Flower A Day, squabbled with Alan Brooks, the owner of Brooks’ Greenery, about some nonsense that I couldn’t quite follow.
Something about hybrid roses.
But he had gone quiet and speculative in direct contrast with the louder she became. Which was loud.
Considering we actually had a couple of customers in the store, browsing the many arrangements we had on display for the upcoming Fourth of July holiday, you would think that maybe they would want to take their spat into the back room.
But no.
Alan actually continued to help customers even as Bess railed at him. He just held up a finger to tell her to wait and paused to speak to whomever needed his help next. I was here too, but obviously, the part-time help didn’t have his expertise with flowers.
However, when it came to rocking a holiday wreath with streamers and little star picks and a giant festive bow, I was your girl.
Until the newcomer in town strolled into the shop. Somehow even the bell didn’t work as usual when he opened the door.
As if his dark energy stifled the sound.
He didn’t look my way at first. His gaze settled on the counter and his voice lashed out at Alan. “I need an arrangement.”
No politeness at all. Not a please or thank you. Just a demand he expected to be immediately fulfilled.
Alan didn’t jump to help him, since he was already assisting another customer. So, I waded into the fray.
Later, I’d always wonder why I had. Yes, it was my job, but I was big on following my gut, and this new guy gave off plenty of foreboding vibes.
Even in the height of summer, he wore a dark three-piece suit that screamed money, as did the expensive gold watch dominating his wrist.
I cleared my throat and his gaze snapped to mine. Arctic blue eyes pinned me in place. “Can I help you?” My voice didn’t shake. I actually sounded confident, at least to my own ears.
“Who are you?”
“Madison Masterson.” I didn’t use my nickname though I usually did with everyone. He hadn’t yet earned the right to know it. “Can I help you?” I repeated.
“I can handle this, Maddie—” Mr. Brooks interjected.
“No, Maddie can help me.” The newcomer’s voice warmed slightly on the nickname I hadn’t given him. He stepped toward me, his shoes echoing on the tile floor, and I held my ground, not wanting to give him an inch.
He seemed like the kind of man you couldn’t take your eyes off for a second.
“What do you need help with?” I asked sharply as I moved to the counter to grab a pad and pencil.
“I need an arrangement for my real estate agent. I want her to receive it tomorrow. AM, preferably.”
I pressed the tip of the pencil into the pad. “We can’t process an order that fast on a weekend.”
“Cost is no object.” His tone was sharp and brooked no arguments. “Make it happen or I’ll find someone who can.”
Bess turned from the counter. “My shop, A Flower A Day, can—”
Alan cleared his throat, effectively silencing her. “We can do it too. Do you know what flowers you want, sir?”
He jerked a shoulder without offering his name. His gaze remained lasered to mine. “Maddie can pick whatever she likes. I’m sure that will be just fine.”
Whatever I liked? I wasn’t a florist. I’d only worked here for a couple months for a few hours a week. I didn’t know what flowers went together best or anything of the sort.
But this stranger’s tone didn’t indicate he was open to discussion.
