CHAPTER 5
Keeping Things Simple
Brad — POV
Brad didn't plan the date.
That was the first thing he told himself.
Because calling it a "date" already made it feel like something it wasn't supposed to be.
It was just... time.
A few hours outside his usual routine.
A break from the Gorge house. From Portland. From everything.
That's all.
Still, he found himself thinking about it longer than necessary.
Not in a strategic way.
In a quiet, annoying way that kept interrupting everything else.
He sat in his Gorge house that morning with his laptop open, staring at nothing in particular while his calendar reminders stacked up in the corner of the screen. The Columbia River glittered beyond the window. Mount Hood watched from a distance.
Meetings. Reports. Decisions.
His normal life waiting for him to return.
But his mind kept drifting back to her.
Kathy.
He said her name again without realizing it — just a whisper, just a breath. His lips moved, but no sound came out.
It felt different each time.
Like it belonged somewhere unfamiliar.
He closed the laptop.
Too many thoughts.
Too much noise for something that was supposed to be simple.
If he was going back to the shop again, he needed a reason that didn't look like a reason.
Flowers were easy.
Flowers made sense.
People didn't question flowers.
So he told himself that's what this was.
He was just buying flowers.
Nothing else.
By the time he arrived at the shop, he had already decided what to say.
Or rather — what not to say.
No explanations.
No unnecessary details.
Just normal.
That word again.
Normal.
The bell rang when he stepped inside.
Kathy looked up immediately.
And for a second, something crossed her face — something she didn't bother hiding.
Surprise.
Then recognition.
Then something softer.
"You again," she said.
Brad nodded slightly. "Again."
Kathy leaned on the counter. "Let me guess. Emergency flowers?"
"Not exactly," he said.
"That sounds suspiciously like exactly."
He exhaled lightly. Almost a smile. "Maybe I just like flowers."
Kathy raised an eyebrow. "That would make you the most consistent rich-looking flower lover I've ever met."
He paused.
"...Rich-looking?"
She pointed at him casually. "You know. The coat. The watch. The general 'I could buy this shop five times' energy."
Brad looked down at himself briefly, as if seeing it for the first time. He hadn't thought about the watch in years — a gift to himself after his first billion. Now it felt like a spotlight.
"I'm not trying to give that impression," he said.
"Well, you are," she replied.
There was no accusation in her voice.
Just observation.
That was new for him.
Most people either adjusted to him or tried to use him.
She did neither.
She just noticed.
Brad stepped closer to the counter.
"I want something simple," he said.
Kathy tilted her head. "Everything here is simple. It's a flower shop."
"Simple for a walk," he clarified. "Not for an occasion."
She studied him for a moment. "So... you're not buying for anyone?"
"No."
"Not even yourself?"
A pause.
"...Maybe."
That made her smile a little.
"Okay, Brad," she said, turning toward the flowers. "We're going on a very complicated journey called picking something for 'maybe.'"
He watched her move around the shop.
It was strange how natural she looked here. Like she belonged in this space in a way that had nothing to do with ownership or money.
Just familiarity.
Like this was her world, and everything else was outside it.
He noticed small things.
The way she adjusted stems without thinking.
The way she hummed softly when she focused.
The way she didn't rush.
Nothing about her felt like urgency.
It was... steady.
"You always like this?" he asked.
"Like what?"
"Calm."
She laughed lightly. "You think I'm calm?"
"You are," he said.
Kathy glanced at him. "That's because you haven't seen me when a supplier is late or when someone drops an entire vase."
"That sounds different."
"It is different," she agreed. "But that's still me."
Brad nodded slowly.
That made sense.
People had layers.
He just wasn't used to seeing them without effort.
Kathy walked back with a small arrangement of mixed flowers — soft yellows, light pinks, greens that looked almost too natural to be arranged.
"This one," she said, placing it in front of him. "No meaning. No pressure. Just... nice."
Brad looked at it.
"Just nice," he repeated.
"Yeah," she said. "Sometimes that's enough."
He reached for his wallet.
Same motion.
Same ease.
But this time, he hesitated for half a second longer than before — his fingers hovering over the leather, like the act of paying might somehow cheapen the moment.
Kathy noticed.
"You don't like simple things, do you?" she asked.
Brad looked up. "I like them."
"That's not what I asked."
A pause.
Then he said, "I'm not used to them."
Kathy nodded like she understood more than she said.
When he paid, their fingers brushed again.
Still brief.
Still accidental.
But it stayed in his mind longer than it should have.
He took the flowers.
Didn't leave immediately.
Instead, he looked at her.
"You always here alone?" he asked.
"Mostly," she said. "Sometimes my aunt comes by to pretend she's still in charge."
Brad almost smiled. "You like it that way?"
"I do," she said without hesitation. "Less noise. Less pretending."
That word landed differently for him.
Pretending.
He knew something about that.
Before he could respond, she leaned on the counter again.
"So do you even know how to cook, or does your money do that for you?"
Brad blinked at the sudden shift. "...I can cook."
"That pause was suspicious."
"I can cook eggs."
"Eggs?"
"That's cooking."
She laughed. "Barely."
It was small. Human. The kind of easy back-and-forth he hadn't had in years.
Brad adjusted his grip on the flowers. His knuckles had gone slightly white — he was holding them too tightly. He forced himself to relax.
"I don't know why I keep coming back," he admitted.
Kathy didn't push.
Instead, she just nodded slowly.
"That's okay," she said. "Most people don't know why they do anything. They just pretend they do."
That made him look at her more closely.
She said it like it was normal.
Like confusion wasn't something to fix.
Just something to accept.
Brad glanced toward the door.
"I should go," he said again.
But like before —
he didn't move right away.
Kathy noticed.
Of course she did.
"Yeah," she said softly. "Probably."
Silence stretched between them.
Not uncomfortable.
Just... present.
Then he finally turned.
The bell rang as he stepped outside.
But this time, he didn't stop immediately.
He kept walking.
A few steps.
Then paused anyway.
Brad stood on the sidewalk, holding flowers he didn't need, thinking about a shop he didn't have a reason to return to.
And still —
he already knew he would.