Chapter 8
A flower can’t bloom without dirt
Harley
Igrab the napkin and hide my face in it as I sob.
I’ve cried so much in the past week, I’m surprised there are still tears left.
A warm hand strokes up and down my arm.
“Not now, Katie,” Kaz says.
A beat of silence hangs in the air.
Thank God we’re in a corner booth.
“Do I pack everything to go, boss?”
“That would be great,” Kaz says. “Can you give us a minute? I’ll give you the heads up when we’re ready to leave.”
“Not a problem. I hope it’s not something I said…”
This poor woman thinks she’s the cause of my emotional breakdown.
I lift my head up. “I’m having a bad day.” More like a bad year, but I wouldn’t want to burden you with my baggage.
She offers a sad smile. “We’ve all been there.”
We each have our crosses to bear. Mine is really heavy.
I nod.
With that, Katie is off.
“Let’s talk about that,” Kaz says.
“About what?”
“Your bad day… I don’t want to overstep my boundaries, but I must say, I was surprised to see you at Grazie Mille. A lot has happened in my life in the last year, so maybe I got things confused, but I thought you were going into business with a friend of yours and her husband?”
I sigh.
“Getting a business off the ground is demanding, so maybe you were working at the restaurant as you were ramping things up—”
“That woman and her husband stole my life savings.”
Kaz’s eyebrows shoot to his forehead. “How the hell did that happen?”
“I fell for the glossy exterior package. The polished designer suits, her collection of Hermes handbags, her bling, his smooth talking, and pricey vintage sports car. It all lured me into a false sense of security. They were successful. I wanted that success to rub off on me. It was all smoke and mirrors. The two people I thought had the same vision as me were nothing more than common criminals.”
“Lawyers were involved in the business setup?”
“Yes. I hired my own legal representation.”
“Where did it all go wrong?”
That question still haunts me today. “Everything was going smoothly. The hours were brutal, but I was flying high. We had secured tons of restaurants and boutique hotels who wanted to lower their costs by flipping to monthly delivery of silk flowers instead of weekly delivery of fresh flowers. We even secured a few potential franchisees we connected with at industry events. I was already rubbing my hands together at the prospect of all that money flooding my bank account.”
“You didn’t get the outcome you expected?”
“No, no I didn’t.”
“What happened?”
“Ellen Pfeffer Zhang and Qin Zhang—my business partners at Silk Blooms Flowers—went on a shopping spree in Hong Kong. Qin grew up in Shanghai and speaks fluent Mandarin and Cantonese, so his language skills were a plus. Ellen wouldn't have been able to negotiate deals without her husband.”
“As a former British colony, I would assume they still speak English in Hong Kong.”
“They do, but Qin insisted knowing the local languages allows you to get preferential rates.”
“Makes sense,” Kaz says. “And you stayed in New York?”
“I did.” I take in a fortifying breath. “We had a shared bank account in which we each deposited a certain amount of money. While they were in Hong Kong, they called, panicked, because there were holdups with customs for a long list of reasons. They asked me to put more money in the joint account. They promised they’d do the same.
For three days, they kept calling, making the same request. I was getting a little antsy, because that was a lot of startup money, but they assured me they were close to getting clearance on our much-needed shipment.
By the fifth day, I was alarmed, but because I was blinded by my dreams of success, I transferred more money.
The next day, I got a text, telling me we’d got the greenlight.
I couldn’t contain my excitement. My business partners were supposed to take the first flight out of Hong Kong.
One day passed without any communication from them.
I figured they were getting their ducks in a row.
On the second day without any contact, I thought something had happened to them.
I called the hotel to make sure they were alive, and that’s when my world came crumbling down like a sandcastle. ” I hang my head.
“They didn’t have a Mr. and Mrs. Zhang registered.”
That’s not a question.
That’s why Kaz is sitting at the helm of an empire while I don’t have two pennies to rub together.
I shake my head. “They lied about staying at that hotel.”
“Shit. They disappeared from the face of the earth.”
I nod. “I went to the small flower shop they owned, and I was met with more devastating news. There was a ‘for lease’ sign hanging in the window. “I called the leasing agent in the hopes she might have another phone number for Ellen and Qi.”
“Did she?”
“She told me for privacy reasons, she couldn’t reveal that information.
I told her how desperate I was, but my plea fell on deaf ears.
I kept texting her, hoping she’d change her mind, but in the end, she blocked my number.
” I fidget with my fingers. “Ellen said she was from Bummerville, California. I tried to find Pfeffers living in the town of 200 people.” I twist my lips. “I came short.”
“She lied about where she’s from?”
“She lied about everything.”
He offers a slow nod. “How much money did she and her husband steal from you?”
I meet Kaz’s gaze. “Every penny to my name.”
“How much?”
I pull my lips between my teeth. “Between what I invested as starter cost and the numerous transfers I stupidly made, it’s about two-hundred-twenty-thousand-dollars.”
He lets out a low whistle. “With your back up against the wall, you could no longer pay your rent? Is that why you had to move in with roommates?”
I shake my head. “I couldn’t juggle it all, and because I missed so many payments, the bank repossessed my house.”
Kaz leans into the table, his expression dark and ominous. “You lost your house?”
“Yes. Ellen and Qi left me with the burden of the expenses we had already incurred. All the operating costs. The rental of the warehouse…” I blow out a breath. “I sold all my valuable possessions in an attempt to make the payments, but it wasn’t enough.”
“What about your family? Weren’t they able to help?”
Ah. My dysfunctional, fucked-up, trailer trash family. “No, they weren’t able to help.”
“Does your family live in New York?”
“Um…” I fidget with my napkin. “Well…” I can’t reveal that secret. The truth is so ugly, he’d have to rename that ice cream flavor because he’ll never want anything to do with me. “They…” More throat clearing. “They’ve relocated…” I shrug. “It wasn’t the best relationship, anyway.”
“I understand not wanting to talk about your parents if you have a strained relationship.”
Thank God he’s not pressing for more.
“What about your friends? Couldn’t you have stayed with one of them?”
I bite the inside of my cheek, as I weigh my words.
“I had a lot of business contacts, but I don’t have that many friends.
My best friend is married to a Dane and she now lives in Europe.
Her husband flies to the US for business, but they spend most of their time across the pond.
She was dividing her time between Berlin, Paris, and Copenhagen, but she had to stop traveling.
She’s expecting triplets—it’s her third trimester.
She’s feeling the weight of those three little peanuts growing in her belly, and her legs are super swollen, making it hard to walk. ”
“That’s a lot of babies all at once,” he says. “What about your assistant? In the Hamptons, I overheard you talk about your business.”
I can’t believe that a year later he’d remember that about me. “We had made the decision at the beginning that the three of us—Ellen, Qi, and I—would man the silk flower business. There was no budget for staff. My assistant accepted a job in Arizona and moved there.”
“You don’t have that many people you can rely on?”
“I don’t.”
He twists his empty beer tankard on the table. “You’ve dealt with a lot of distressing and traumatic events in the past year,” he says.
“Broke, Broken Girl, the movie,” I say with a dramatic hand gesture. “That’s my life.” I poke fun at myself because I’m sure that’s how he sees me. “I’m twenty-seven-years-old and I’m a big fat failure. It runs so deep, the only apartment left in that shitty building I live in—”
“Used to live in.”
“Okay, the only apartment left in that shitty building I used to live in was 1F. F for failure.”
Kaz furrows his brows like he’s mad at the world and studies me long and hard.
I squirm in my seat under his scrutiny.
“You’ve had a little dirt thrown your way—”
“Enough dirt to cover all the coffins in every cemetery in New York State.”
“That’s one way of seeing it.”
As if there was another.
Kaz remains silent for a long beat.
“You’ve had a little dirt thrown your way, but not enough to bury you. You’re still standing.” He reaches out and takes both my hands into his.
I borrow his strength as mine.
His blue eyes hold mine for several heartbeats. “Think about it, Harley. A flower can’t bloom without dirt. What if you’re a hair away from burgeoning?”
As a former florist, his words speak to my soul.
I bite hard against my lower lip to stop my face from screwing up with tears. I’ve already ugly-cried enough times in front of this gorgeous man.