ChapterFour
1159 Words
The Promise Behind the Flowers
The investigation file remained exactly where Olivia had left it—closed, untouched. Caleb stood before the floor-to-ceiling windows of his office, one hand tucked into his pocket as the city stretched endlessly beneath him. After yesterday's encounter outside the shop, he'd spent the better part of the evening trying to place the old woman's expression. The way she'd looked at him. The name she'd breathed against the glass like it had escaped before she could stop it.
Behind him, Olivia waited.
"Would you like me to continue looking into Brooks Florist?"
The question lingered in the quiet office. Caleb turned slowly.
"No."
She blinked.
"No, sir?”
He picked up the slim brown file and slipped it into a drawer.
"Reports tell me what happened." He reached for his car keys. "I want to know what's happening.”
—
Brooks Florist smelled like fresh rain and lavender.
The brass bell above the entrance chimed softly as Caleb stepped inside. No one looked up.
Elena stood behind the counter helping an elderly woman choose flowers.
"I don't know anything about roses," the woman admitted. "I'm visiting my sister."
Elena smiled warmly.
"Then don't buy what looks expensive.”
The woman laughed.
"What should I buy?"
"What reminds you of her?"
The woman hesitated.
"When we were little... she used to sneak into our neighbour's garden and steal daisies.”
Elena's eyes lit up.
"Daisies it is.”
“They're cheaper too."
"They're happier," Elena corrected gently. "You can't visit your sister carrying unhappy flowers."
The woman laughed so hard she wiped tears from her eyes.
"I'll trust your judgment."
Caleb watched from the doorway. Elena never once tried to sell the most expensive bouquet. She sold the right one.
Interesting.
His attention drifted around the little shop. The blue walls had faded with age. Framed photographs lined one shelf. An old brass cash register sat proudly near the counter. Everything looked worn but nothing looked neglected. Someone cared deeply about this place.
The customer finally left. Only then did Elena notice him.
"Oh." A flicker of surprise crossed her face. "Mr. Moore."
"I was nearby."
She looked around the empty shop.
"I don't think people usually wander into flower shops by accident."
"Perhaps not.”
A small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth.
"What can I help you with?"
He looked around.
"I'd like flowers."
She waited.
"For?"
He opened his mouth but nothing came. He hadn't actually thought that far. She hid a smile.
"That's usually the first question."
His expression remained perfectly straight.
"I'll remember that next time."
She chuckled. The sound surprised even her.
"I'll choose something."
As she moved between the flowers, Caleb noticed her pause.
One white lily had begun to wilt. Without hesitation, she removed it. No customer would have noticed but she did.
The bell above the door rang again. This time, neither of them smiled. A middle-aged man stepped inside carrying an invoice book. His expression was apologetic.
"Miss Brooks..."
Elena's shoulders stiffened.
"Mr. Daniels."
"I hate having these conversations."
"I know.”
He glanced toward Caleb before lowering his voice.
"The supplier wants payment."
"I just need until Friday."
"I've already asked twice."
"I know."
"They won't release next week's shipment."
Silence.
"I've bought from your company since my grandmother owned this shop”, She said.
"I remember."
"I've never missed a payment until now.”
“I know." His face tightened. "If it were my decision..."
He couldn't finish.
Elena nodded.
"You don't have to explain."
"I'm sorry."
"So am I."
He quietly placed the invoice on the counter before leaving. The bell chimed once more leaving the shop silent.
For the first time since he'd walked in...Caleb saw the smile disappear from Elena's face. She stared at the invoice for several seconds before folding it neatly and placing it beneath the counter.
Then she looked back at him.
"I'm sorry."
He frowned slightly.
"For what?"
"You came to buy flowers."
"And?”
“You ended up watching my problems."
There wasn't an ounce of self-pity in her voice. Only embarrassment. Caleb looked at her for a long moment.
Then quietly said,
"I came to buy flowers." His gaze shifted to the bouquet she'd been arranging. "I still intend to."
Something softened in Elena's expression. She nodded once.
"I'll make it worth buying.”
***
“Elena?"
Mrs Dalia stepped through the curtain carrying a basket of freshly cut lavender. She stopped. Her eyes landed on Caleb.This time there was no glass between them, no distance, no half-light to soften the resemblance. She looked at him the way someone looks when a memory they'd stopped believing in suddenly walks through the door.
Her basket lowered slowly.
"...Arthur?"
Caleb frowned.
"I'm sorry?"
Mrs Dalia's eyes glistened. A long breath left her. Then a sad, certain smile settled on her face — not the disbelieving one from yesterday, but something older, something that had made peace with itself..
"No.” She shook her head gently. "You just have his eyes."
Silence settled over the shop. Elena looked between them, confused.
"Grandma?"
Mrs Dalia blinked as though waking from a dream.
"I'm sorry."
She smiled politely at Caleb.
"You reminded me of someone."
Caleb held her gaze.
"I'd like to hear about him sometime."
Something unreadable passed across Mrs Dalia's face.
"So would I”, she said quietly.
And then she moved past them both and began watering the lilies, as if that were simply the next thing that needed doing.
—
Ten minutes later, Caleb sat in the back of his car. The bouquet rested beside him.
His driver waited.
"Home, sir?"
Caleb didn't answer immediately. He looked back through the florist's window. Elena was laughing with her grandmother again. The laugh didn't reach her eyes. Now he understood why.
He reached for his phone.
"Olivia.”
“Yes, Mr. Moore?"
"I need a meeting with Legal."
"Regarding which acquisition?"
"This isn't an acquisition."
“She waited. Caleb's gaze remained fixed on Brooks Florist.
"I need to know every legal way to stop a foreclosure."
A pause.
“Is this for Moore Holdings?"
His eyes lingered on the little blue shop one last time.
"No." Another pause. "What if the owner refuses financial assistance?"
Olivia didn't answer immediately.
"I'll ask Legal."
"Today."
The call ended. The driver looked into the rear-view mirror.
"Sir?”
Caleb finally looked away from the florist.
"Drive."
The car pulled into traffic.
Neither man noticed the small handwritten card tucked inside the bouquet on the seat beside him.
Every flower tells a story. Thank you for letting us be part of yours.
Caleb's fingers brushed the edge of the card.
A thought, quiet but undeniable, settled in his mind.
Some people would rather lose everything... than lose their dignity.
He closed his eyes briefly. Then spoke aloud to no one.
"There has to be another way.”
- Writer
