Lunchtime Crush

Chapter 1

I'd always loved this charming stretch of Toronto. It was here that the bustle of the downtown core faded away into the shadows of the skyscrapers, allowing sidewalks and frolicking pedestrians some room to breathe. The quietness would lead right here into Yorkville, a neighborhood of lush trees, minimal traffic, and affluent people who adored strolling around in a love-struck haze.

The affluence and the love haze had always been crucial to my livelihood, given that I owned the neighbourhood's foremost flower shop, which I'd dorkily named "A Rose For All Seasons." It was true, I loved a good pun, and it wasn't so much the content of the stage play "A Man For All Seasons" that I'd liked, but the fact that up until recently, I'd had a man of my own whom I'd adored in all seasons. Yes, even in winter I'd been smitten with Ben, despite his obsession with mid-season hockey, and the way he'd caress me with his dried up "wind-chill" hands. He was a hopeless man who could never be convinced of the virtues of moisturizing shea butter, but I'd loved him all the same.

He'd loved the idea of naming the flower shop after the play, probably because he'd known it was an indirect reference to him. That should've been a sign of his massive ego, but hey...rose-coloured glasses and all that jazz.

I was handling this breakup extremely well for a woman in her thirties forced to start over, and so...if someone wanted to reward me with a gift basket full of my favourite things, like chocolate bars infused with pretzel bits, and Chilean red wine that would go down smooth so I could practically chug it by the bottle, well...I'm sure I would've graciously accepted.

Instead it was mid-July at "A Rose For All Seasons," with late-morning wanderers enjoying the blue-sky day, and me inside the shop, putting together a beautiful bouquet.

"Uhh Lina?" said my assistant.

I turned to find the bright-eyed Anna hovering behind me. Anna was my focused and sensible right arm, who I eclipsed in height, length of dark hair, and (unfortunately) in age. Did she know her resilient skin was incredibly fleeting? Somehow I didn't think she knew.

"Huh?" I finally said. It was the only quasi-word I could manage, as my inner monologue forcibly merged with reality. "How can I help you?" I added, which was also weird since she clearly wasn't a customer.

"It's just..." she started, "you ripped three petals off that Tiger Lily, but then...you still added it into the bouquet."

I laughed at her obvious confusion, before taking a closer look at my handiwork. This array of citrus-coloured flowers was being curated for a guy who wanted to wish his girl a happy birthday, but didn't want her getting any ideas about love. It was some of my finest "early stage of dating" floral work. Except for the Tiger Lily's missing three petals...

"Okay..." I said. "My bad." I shrugged it off because I was the boss, and being a boss absolved everything.

Before I could add more nuggets of wisdom into my future book about management skills, I still had to deal with Anna and her blank stare.

"Why don't you finish this arrangement?" I said.

"Sure," she replied, barely concealing a smile as she swiftly took over. Anna had the skills to do it all, it was just that floor sweeping and ribbon re-stocking tended to monopolize her time. Assistant problems.

I sauntered over to the computer, where I found the customer's personalized message to the girlfriend he didn't love. All I had to do was copy what he'd written in his online order, and paste it into the printable template. I completed step one, and then followed it up with step two. After that I entered a paragraph break, to fix up the wonky formatting. With the formatting now complete, the message was ready for printing: "Hey Babe, wishing you the greatest birthday; you look so good you're aging backwards like Benjamin Button. Hugs, Jake."