A Wager and a Warning
1063 Words
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The next morning, Emma was halfway through arranging a bouquet of peonies when her phone vibrated on the counter. She wiped her hands on her apron and picked it up.
Elliot Mitchell: I’ve decided. Send the flowers to Charlotte.
Emma grinned. Finally, some clarity! She quickly typed back:
You got it! What’s the address?
As she waited for his reply, Claire strolled in from the back, nibbling on a blueberry muffin. “Let me guess,” she said between bites. “Elliot wants the flowers sent?”
Emma nodded. “Yep. Looks like he is going for the grand romantic gesture.”
Claire wiggled her eyebrows. “Ooooh. Do you think Charlotte will take him back?”
Emma shrugged. “Hard to say. But hey, at least I get to do my actual job now instead of playing detective.”
Before Claire could respond, the shop door swung open.
Ryan Mitchell.
Again.
Emma groaned. “Seriously? Are you haunting me at this point?”
Ryan ignored her dramatics and walked straight to the counter, his sharp blue eyes scanning her phone screen. “Did Elliot decide?”
Emma sighed. “Yes, he wants me to deliver the flowers to Charlotte. And—” She held up a finger. “—before you say anything, I’m not just blindly handing over the bouquet. I’m going to make sure she actually wants them first.”
Ryan’s expression was unreadable. “Good. Because this is a bad idea.”
Emma folded her arms. “You really don’t believe in romance, do you?”
Ryan exhaled. “I believe in making rational decisions. Sending flowers to an ex is usually not one of them.”
Emma shook her head. “You’re such a cynic. What happened to you?”
Ryan’s jaw tightened. “Nothing. I just don’t waste time on things that don’t work.”
Emma studied him for a beat. There was something in his voice—something personal.
Claire, sensing the tension, cleared her throat. “Okay, I have an idea.”
Both Emma and Ryan turned to her.
Claire grinned. “Let’s make a wager.”
Emma blinked. “A what?”
Claire leaned forward. “You believe in romance. Mr. Suit here doesn’t. So let’s bet on it. If Charlotte takes Elliot back, you win. If she doesn’t, Ryan wins.”
Ryan crossed his arms. “And what exactly do we win?”
Claire smirked. “Bragging rights. And the loser has to do whatever the winner says for one whole day.”
Emma’s eyes widened. “Wait—what?”
Claire shrugged. “Hey, you both feel strongly about this, right? Why not make it fun?”
Ryan considered this. Then, to Emma’s surprise, he nodded. “Fine. If Elliot’s grand romantic gesture actually works, I’ll admit I was wrong.”
Emma narrowed her eyes. “And if it doesn’t?”
A slow, almost smug smile curved Ryan’s lips. “Then you admit romance isn’t always the answer.”
Emma hesitated. She knew she was right. Charlotte would see the flowers, remember how much Elliot meant to her, and they’d reconcile. Right?
She lifted her chin. “Deal.”
Claire clapped her hands. “Oh, this is going to be so good.”
Emma just hoped she hadn’t made a mistake.
---
The Delivery
Two hours later, Emma stood in front of a sleek brownstone on the Upper East Side, bouquet in hand. The sunflowers and white lilies made for a bright, hopeful arrangement—exactly the kind of flowers that screamed fresh start.
She took a deep breath and rang the doorbell.
A moment later, the door swung open to reveal a tall, stunning woman with chestnut brown hair and piercing green eyes. She was effortlessly elegant, dressed in yoga pants and a fitted tank top that somehow looked chic instead of casual.
Emma smiled warmly. “Hi, are you Charlotte?”
The woman crossed her arms. “Depends. Who’s asking?”
Okay, so not the warmest welcome.
Emma cleared her throat. “I’m Emma, from Bloom & Co.. I have a flower delivery for you.”
Charlotte’s expression shifted slightly, eyes flicking to the bouquet. “From who?”
Emma hesitated. “Elliot Mitchell.”
Charlotte let out a short laugh, but there was no humor in it. “Wow. He really sent flowers.”
Emma bit her lip. “Uh… yeah.”
Charlotte studied the bouquet for a long moment, her fingers lightly grazing the petals.
Then, to Emma’s complete shock, she shook her head. “I can’t accept these.”
Emma blinked. “Oh.”
Charlotte sighed. “Look, Elliot’s a good guy. But flowers aren’t going to change anything. We broke up for a reason.”
Emma hesitated. “Are you sure? I mean, sometimes people just need a little push to find their way back to each other.”
Charlotte gave her a sad smile. “Trust me. This isn’t one of those times.”
Emma’s heart sank.
Welp.
She had just lost the bet.
Charlotte patted her arm. “Tell Elliot I appreciate the gesture. But I’ve moved on.”
Emma nodded slowly. “I understand.”
Charlotte gave her one last small smile before gently closing the door.
Emma stood there for a second, the bouquet still in her hands.
“Well,” she muttered. “This is awkward.”
---
Back at the Shop
Emma stepped into Bloom & Co. and tossed the bouquet onto the counter.
Claire looked up. “Oof. That doesn’t look like a ‘happily ever after’ bouquet.”
Emma groaned. “It’s not. Charlotte rejected the flowers.”
Claire winced. “Yikes.”
Emma sighed. “Yep. Which means—”
The door swung open.
Ryan Mitchell strolled in, looking way too pleased with himself.
“Well?” he said, folding his arms.
Emma scowled. “You already know, don’t you?”
Ryan smirked. “I had a feeling.”
Emma groaned. “Fine. You win.”
Claire grinned. “Which means—”
Ryan’s smirk deepened. “Which means Emma owes me a day of doing exactly what I say.”
Emma frowned. “Wait, that was the deal?”
Ryan nodded. “You agreed.”
Claire grinned. “Oh, this is going to be fun.”
Emma groaned. What had she gotten herself into?
---
- Writer
