Chapter 12: Flowers

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(Isaias' POV)

The Asian girl, with small brown almond eyes, gave me a confused, curious look, before returning her attention back to the paper, as I gave her the notes. Her suspicious eyes, shifting between me and the paper, where I wrote Angel's address. "This is Rose's addresses," she confirms, frowning, and I nodded my head in agreement. I kicked away the irritation starting to bubbled up in my system as I scowled at the Asian girl.

"I owe her an apology," I explained briefly, holding my vexation at bay and the Asian girl nodded without looking at me. "I hope you won't mentioned this to her. I want the flowers to be a surprise," and she nodded again. Her confused looks morphing into an embarrassed one as she turns her attention on the register machine. She started punching in my orders.

After I paid it, I quickly left the florist and headed straight to the florist's owner, Mr. and Mrs. Christine Fair.

"Yes," the old lady in her early seventies, opens the door. She's short and plumped, but she had this huge smile that will make anyone feels comfortable in her presence, but not me. I felt suddenly uncomfortable. I had the plan to make her agree with selling her flower shop without a word, but seeing her now had my plans totally ruined.

I'm used to people who always wears their scowls, had their wicked grin plastered on their faces, or with no emotion at all. I never met someone as happy as Mrs. Fair is. Her sweet and warm smile caused me to feel discomfort.

I felt something deep within me I never felt before, not even after killing those men.


Since when did I have a conscience?

I shook the thoughts off as I forced my lips to curl into a small easy smile, but it felt tight, I almost grimace. "I am Isaias Vitale," I smiled rather tried as I introduced myself, her smile widened.

"Well, I never heard of you. You're not one of my friend's son, right? That would make me feel terrible if I forgot you. I swear I know all their names. I have a very few friend, and I know all their kids or sibling's name." She blabbered as she motioned me to come in, and led me inside her bungalow style house. Her sweet smile never left her face.

"No, ma'am. I'm Angel Rose Viggorino's boyfriend," I answered briefly, and the woman stopped and swiveled to face me.

"Estella's niece!" she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with fondness. "I adore that kid, she's so sweet and so innocent," she sighed happily.

The woman stared at me with full of curiosity, and I shifted on my feet. Mrs. Fair smiled sweetly. "Angel is so lucky, you look rather handsome, dear, " she remarked.

Her full blown smile, slowly withering as she opens her mouth. "Are you a model, by any chance, dear?" she asked sweetly. Her bushy brown with gray eyebrows, furrowing with deep curiosity.

I shook my head. "No, ma'am," I answered politely.

"Oh ..." she moaned softly, "but you look like one." She commented enthusiastically. I unconsciously chuckled at her remarks.

"Well, thank you, Mrs. Fair," I said, and she grinned sweetly.

"Christine," she interjected, "Christine Fair, and call me Christine. My husband is not home, and his name is Joshua," she blabbered ecstatically, her eyes twinkling. "Come, I made a macadamia nut cookie," she said cheerfully, then she swiveled around, and headed inside.

I trailed behind her. She was short, and she only reached until my underarm.

"Sit," she outstretched her hand, pointing towards the couch, and I nodded. I settled on one corner of the couch, propping my elbow against the armrest. "I'll be back," she said enthusiastically and then left swiftly leaving me alone in the small cramped living room.

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