by Elsie James
“Michael, I depend on myself. I need to be able to work, it’s what I do. Since we met, things have been slipping at work and in my life. A long phone call while I have customers in the shop. A lunch date here, a late night there. I have responsibilities, and you deserve someone who can give you their whole heart.”
I hold up the floral arrangement. “This is for you.”
She smiles briefly at my presentation. For a minute, I think my Jessa is back. But then, she speaks hesitantly. “How can you afford this? This is exactly the kind of thing I’m talking about.” Ugh, I forgot to remove the price tag. “It’s so sweet, and I want you to find someone who appreciates it. You work hard for your money, and I would feel better if you saved the money or spent—”
“This is about money for you?” My blood simmers and my heart aches. I can’t believe what I am hearing.
She rips her arm from mine. “No, Michael. It's not about money, it's about motivation. It’s about you not spending your time on the things that matter. It’s about your trivia nights and rec league baseball teams instead of creating a life for yourself. That’s well and good for you, but I need to take care of myself.”
I’m sick. I thought she was different, but here I am again. Another woman with money as her bottom line. It’s time to set her straight. “I own the nursery. It’s mine. Gram Benjamin is my grandmother. I bought it for her with the millions I earn in my real estate business. I own bungalows all over town. I work to restore them to their original beauty. My life’s work is preserving this town.”
Jessa says nothing. Even now, part of me hopes that this will be enough. If it's money she needs, I have it. I can take care of her, help her. Jessa steps back. There is not an ounce of relief on her face. Only furious grief. Her voice is so low it is barely audible.
“So, you lied?” Frustrated tears stream down her face. “You have this whole other life where you invest in real estate and you buy nurseries for your Grandmother and you have…” She trails off.
“Money? Yes, I have money. Is that really what matters to you?”
“No!” Jessa shouts, then her anger quickly devolves into tears. She continues, hands flailing. “You’re walking around pretending to be someone you’re not. You said you loved having me in your world, but I haven’t even seen your world. All I want is to create a good life for me and my mom. I work hard for that. How can I let you be a part of that if I can’t even trust you?”
“ Dammit, Jessa, I love you. Of course I do. You’re intense. You’re passionate and inspired. And you are so beautiful. I would do anything if I thought I could change your mind. But I have already done everything I know how to do. All you seem to care about is money, and I want someone who wants me for me.” I set the flowers down, tired and disgusted, and turn away.
I don’t know how to get through to her. Maybe I didn’t approach this correctly. Maybe I made a mistake. But now I’m in love with her. I don’t know how to convince her that we can make things work. It seems like both of our issues keep getting in the way. .
Chapter 6: Jessa
The next morning, the recipe Michael left for me stares at me from my countertop. Flashes of his smile float through my mind. I gather all of the ingredients and take a stab at making my own Gram Benjamin’s Chocolate Chip Cookie. I might even add sprinkles. How is that for no life?
Why could he not just tell me? A secret like that is too big to forgive. Ainsley and Juni are not right. I don’t have social media because I just don’t want it. I’m not afraid of it. That’s ridiculous. In fact, I’m downloading it now. Right now.
The tea pot whistles as the apps finish installing on my phone. I put on my bulky, gray, old lady robe that I’ve had since high school and open the app.
Ainsley’s page pops up, and it looks like she has been up to some fun. A trip to the Bahamas with her sister, Amelia. Lunches with Juni. A nightclub in Paris with a suspiciously tall man who may in fact play for the LA Lakers. And, of course, a stately family photo shoot at her family’s vineyard. I can’t help but notice that I’m not in any of the pictures.
But of course I’m not; that is Ainsley for you. She gets everything. Not like me. I have to work for it. I mean, it’s my choice. When I first started Petals, it would have been impossible to take time off. These days, though, I could probably take a day off here or there, and the shop would be okay.
Juni’s page is all lunches, art shows, and road trips. Juni is smiling with her corgi and her ever changing hair color and…her friends. Her real friends, I guess. But none with me. Nope. Juni is smiling with the friends that make time for her dog’s birthday party and the friends that go with her on speed dating adventures.
I click on my own page and see a single picture. It is a peony. I didn’t even take that picture. It’s a stock image I stole from a wholesale flower website. I have nothing to post. Shoot, maybe Michael’s right. Maybe I’ve gotten so obsessed about building my business that I’m missing out life.
My cookie batter spins in the mixer on the counter. My house is cold. It’s just me in the silence. To be honest, I don’t love it here right now. I tell myself to get dressed and leave the house, but my body isn’t listening. I walk into my bedroom, close the curtains, and climb under the covers with my phone.
This is going to hurt. But I can’t stop myself from looking. I click on Michael’s name. Michael’s page is filled with evidence of a life. Michael at the pub with his best friend, Shane. Michael with his baseball team, holding a trophy. Michael and Gram holding hands at the nursery. And then, I see it. Michael with me, smiling at lunch. I look happy. Michael has tagged the photo “#dreamgirl”.
Sweet and charming Michael. Michael, who built a fence at the nursery for Gram so she could live out her diagnosis amongst the flowers. Michael, who helps me laugh at myself. Michael, who found me 2500 flowers that are impossible to find. Michael, who said I was perfect even after I told him how broken I was. Michael, who asked me for nothing more than to go with him on an adventure. I am his dream girl and I am not going to lose him.
I jolt out of bed. My fingers frantically search through the contacts on my phone, pulling up Juni and leaving her a message. “Juni! It’s me. I can’t explain right now, but can you cover for me? If you get this, please head to the store and open it to accept this week's delivery. I won’t be there. I have a baseball game to get to.”
I toss my phone on the bed and hope that she will get the message in time. I can’t be sure she will, but it’s a chance I have to take. Every single dress I own is frantically tugged off its hanger and scattered on my floor. Then I see it—my green dress. Without thinking, I rip the tags off and throw it on with totally impractical wedge heels made out of cork.
Michael will not have to ask me to come to his games, or his trivia nights, or anything else ever again. I will already be there because Michael is what matters. And because having a life outside of work matters. And because love, family, and friendship matter. What’s the point of working so hard if you don’t have people to share it with?
The handle of my front door is cold against my flustered skin as I yank it open. I step onto my porch and then, I stop. I freeze, my body won’t move. I can't even feel it. I can’t believe what I am seeing. My yard, my barren, dirt patch of a yard…it’s…beautiful.
Every inch of my yard is alive with peonies, callas, roses, and dahlias. Mosaic stepping stones in every shade of pink lead to a wicker garden bench. A blown glass ruby hummingbird feeder hangs from a shepherd's hook while daisies dance in the wind beneath it. Shakily, I make my way to the center of my yard. I stand in awe under a wooden trellis with waxy green Jasmine vines crawling up its sides.
Michael’s warm hand on the small of back steadies me as my eyes well with tears. “Yesterday, I went to the nursery to check in on Gram. I couldn’t find her. Cheryl told me that she was roaming again. When I finally found her, Gram was sitting on a bench in greenhouse nine. I expected her to be distant, the way she gets when
she wanders. But she wasn’t. Gram turned to me and spoke like the Gram I knew in my youth. She told me to stay rooted in the faith and that love would blossom for me. Gram told me to look for a sign. I looked up to see this...”
Michael holds out a Jeweled Kolibri in full bloom. Its intricate layers unfolding in a tangled perfect mess, one on top of the other. I gasp. The flower takes my breath away.
“I knew I couldn’t let you go, and this was my sign. You are an exceptional person Jessa, and this is our exceptional moment.”
I turn my head slowly to take in the scene in front of me. Michael, tall and strong enough for me to lean on. The most precious flower in Gram’s nursery, the Jeweled Kolibri, in full bloom for me. My magical front yard that looks like the yard of someone who actually spends time at home.
Michael grabs my shoulders. “Before you say it, I talked to Juni. She’s covering the shop today. I had the whole GB Nursery team here last night to make sure you had a nice view to look at while you drink your tea.
“I love your passion. Jessa, you are so sexy, and I’ve never wanted anything so much as I want you. I will make sure you never have to be afraid to speak your dreams loudly. Because no matter how big they get, I will be there helping you catch them. I want to hold your hand on real adventures, the kind that happen outside of this town.”
I have never had anyone who appreciates my hard work and wants to make sure I have time to enjoy my life. Michael is powerful and loyal, promising to stand beside me, to take me on adventures. I trust him. The weight of a lifetime of working in solitude lifts off of me. It feels like I have been holding my breath all of this time and I can finally breathe.
“Jessa, I never want to stop taking care of you. Not because you can’t do it. You are capable of absolutely everything. I want to take care of you because you are home for me.”
My heart beats so loudly, I’m sure he can hear it. My body shakes with the realization that Michael is my forever. Tears of joy stream down my face. I look up at Michael. His chocolate eyes lock with mine.
“Michael...thank you.” I cannot possibly find the words. “It’s more than…”
“Stop talking,” says Michael. His large hands clasp my chin and turn it toward him.
“It’s beautiful,” I whisper.
“You are beautiful” His lips crash down on mine. Michael scoops me up in one swift movement, broken parts and all, and carries me into the house.
Epilogue: Jessa One Year Later
The golden sunlight fills our tiny English cottage. It wasn’t long after Michael and I got together that I managed to arrange my life so I could take more time off. We bought this place over a year ago, and it never ceases to amaze me that this is my life.
Opening my eyes, I see Michael, his gorgeous skin wrapped in a white sheet still asleep on the bed. I think back to the first time Michael sent me flowers. The card said, “Jessa, you are the kind of girl that deserves flowers everyday.” Since then, my sweet Michael has kept his word and makes sure I get flowers every single day.
I slip on my pink silk robe for the sixteenth morning in a row and make myself a cup of tea. I wander out into the cottage garden. Flowers in every shade of pink greet me with their sweet scent.
Scrolling my social media, I see the evidence of a life lived. Michael and me at his baseball games. The two of us competing against each other at a trivia night. Me, smiling at lunch with Ainsley and Juni. And of course, pictures of us at the nursery with Gram.
Gram and I are something of a pair now. We geek out on flowers that nobody has ever heard of and get lost in our own beautiful world. We wander the nursery together. She even makes recommendations for my arrangements at Petals. I like to think of her as my expert floral advisor and as my friend.
“Good morning, beautiful.” Michael wraps his arms around my waist. His biceps anchor my head to that perfect spot on his chest. My breath matches his and I melt into him. This is pure bliss.
“Do you miss the shop?” Michael asks.
“What shop?” I smile up at him. “I’m sure Juni has it covered until we get back. I do miss Mom. Our weekly brunch dates have been so nice. And Gram, of course.”
“Of course.” Michael grins. “Put this on.” Michael tosses me my white sundress.
“What do you have up your sleeve?”
Michael takes me by the hand as we wander the town's cobblestone streets. We have explored every inch of this village in the more than two weeks since we arrived for our adventure. The tiny tea shop with the old grumpy woman who runs it. The always crowded pub that serves the best Bitter Ale I have ever tasted. The glass blower that lives in a hut just outside of town. Michael commissioned him to create a beautiful pink hummingbird feeder that we will take back to Gram.
“Ok, sweetheart,” Michael says. “We’re here.”
“The Tea Shoppe?” I do love it but it isn’t open. “It’s closed.”
“Who cares? Let’s go,” he says.
“Let’s go?”
Michael opens the door to the shop. We’re greeted by an old woman with a stiff upper lip. Her face gives nothing away. The table is set for a formal tea service for two. Vases of bright pink peonies top white linen table cloths. Tiered trays of the most decadent desserts I have ever seen are brought out one by one, each round more impressive than the last. Beautiful truffles, shortbread, and cakes each expertly paired with a signature tea.
I look at Michael. He never stops impressing me. How did he arrange this? “You are brilliant. This is a dream.”
“We have one dish left,” the old woman announces.
A silver tiered tray is carried out. On the top there is a small white box. I turn to Michael. He is down on his knee.
“Jessa Reece, you are the most passionate person I have ever known. You eat your dessert before your meal. You’ve changed the final chapters of Gram’s story and written the best chapters in mine. You belong with me. I have known it from the first time I saw you. I will spend the rest of my life helping you live yours. Marry me.” Michael opens the lid of the tiny white box to reveal a beautiful pink diamond.
“Michael Benjamin, I accept.”
AINSLEY
Peony Pointe Series
Books 2
By Elsie James
Chapter 1: Ainsley
“Dad, are you serious? You’re making Shane Sanders an Executive Director?” My sister, Amelia, is quietly outraged. “Why? He’s not even family and you’re entrusting so much of the winery to him?”
My siblings and I sit across from our father in our brown leather wingback chairs. The boardroom hasn’t changed much over the years. We gather around the same huge oak table.
In the last weeks, the four of us have had more and more meetings like this. We hire people for all of these tasks. But, nonetheless, Daddy comes prepared each time with a list. He covers details about our bottling lines, laboratories, and even our steakhouse. He gives us the names of the people he trusts. We review the profit and loss statements. The meetings go on and on.
Truthfully, I’m not sure what he is worried about. As the oldest child, Daddy has been training my sister Amelia to take over Bellisima for more than a decade now. She and I are so different. Amelia loves to work alone in her office alone. When I got my position, I immediately instituted an open door policy. Anyone is welcome to bring me their concerns or ideas at any time, no matter their position. Some of my favorite people are those I’ve met when they pop into my office with a question.
I can’t listen to her objections anymore. “Who cares Amelia? You’re getting what you’ve always wanted. In two weeks, Daddy will be retired, and you can reign over all of Bellisima.”
She shoots me a look. “I’m asking for clarification. It’s so easy for you. Your role isn’t changing. Dad will retire, and you’ll continue throwing company parties. Very soon, the livelihoods of half the population of Peony Pointe will depend on me getting this right.”
Daddy steps in, unsurprisingly taking m
y side. “Amelia, let’s not bore your sister with all of the details.”
I give her a smug smile and she rolls her eyes in frustration. I look past her, out of the stately windows, and into the vineyard. A habit I picked up years ago, our parents always requiring us to take an active role in our family business.
We always say business, but it’s more like an empire. Our father is a fourth-generation sommelier. It was only fitting that he and mom fell in love. As the sole heir to Bellissima Vineyards, she needed him. At the time, it was a medium-sized vineyard with a tasting room. Daddy has built it into the tourist destination it is today.
I pet my cat, Duchy. Her fluffy white tail brushes my cheek as she purrs. Amelia hates when I bring Duchy to our meetings. But, Duchy has so much love to give. She was found by one of our staff members just wandering through the vineyard. They were going to take her to a shelter, but I couldn’t stand the thought. So, I took her into the vet, got her a collar, and made her mine. She’s been by my side ever since. Duchy is the only one in my life, besides my family, who loves me for me and not my money. She’s a comfort when I’ve been burned so many times, by friends, by acquaintances, and especially by men.