Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 76517 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76517 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
“It’s so great to see you!” She gives me a hug when I make it to the table a few minutes later. “I’m so glad this worked out.”
“Me too.” It’s not like I have an overflowing social calendar at the moment . . . “Oh, before I forget, I have something for you.”
Digging into my bag, I pull out a slip of notebook paper with four flower-shop names written on it.
“So the first one is Waterford Floral,” I say. “Obviously Waterford is your last name, but it goes well with the word floral because they share the f and r sounds and Waterford is three syllables, while floral is two. It also has a classy, upmarket feel. After that, we have Stem and Petal. We have the shared t sounds, and it fits with the modern, simple style you originally were going for while giving a nod to the original name of the shop. Next we have the Rose and Posy, which gives me English pub vibes . . . think the Rose and Crown, the Dog and Duck, the Eagle and Child, but this is obviously the flower-shop version. It’s cute and playful and fresh. Lastly, we have J’adore les Fleurs, which is French for I love flowers—and it’s also fun to say and easy to pronounce. I feel like the type of people who shop in that area will eat that up. They want to feel transported and well traveled since many of them are vacationers, and a French-themed flower shop would be just the ticket.”
A barista delivers my cappuccino in a red ceramic cup. The foam art consists of two hearts, one inside the other. The irony isn’t lost on me.
“Wow, Anneliese, these are amazing.” Berlin studies the sheet. “I don’t know what to say other than thank you. Not sure how I’m going to choose because I love them all.”
“You’re most welcome.” I sip my coffee and settle in.
She folds the paper and places it carefully into the front pocket of her cognac-leather bag.
“So how’s your week going?” She wraps her hands around her mug, letting the tag from her tea bag fall over her glossy scarlet fingernails. I can’t remember the last time I got my nails done. Back in Chicago, I had a group of friends who would meet up at our favorite nail salon on the first of the month for full manicures and pedicures. I miss having a group of girlfriends.
“I’m still filling in at the bookshop,” I say. “And working with Lachlan on finishing the reno.”
“The reno?”
“I’m fixing up their childhood home,” I say. “It was a project Donovan and I started before he passed.”
I leave it at that. No need to go into detail or dampen the mood.
“Oh? I had no idea,” she says. “I know his father had trouble maintaining it in his final years. My mom said something about the city wanting to condemn it. But you’re saying it’s savable?”
I nod. “The electrical has been replaced, and the foundation has been repaired. We tore out the kitchen cabinets, and the new ones will go in soon. Everything else is mostly sanding and staining and repainting . . .”
“Nice.” She takes a sip of tea before fussing with the tea bag. “I haven’t been in that house in ages.”
“You’ll have to stop by sometime and see the progress.”
She perks. “I’d love that, actually. Lots of fond memories there . . .”
Her attention floats to the center of the table for a second, as if she’s lost in thought.
“So you said you moved away and came back . . . where’d you go?” I ask.
Berlin levels her shoulders. “Oh, um . . . so after college, I took a job in Madison, Wisconsin, transferred to Indianapolis, bounced over to Cleveland . . . by twenty-eight, I was already burning out from the corporate grind, so I decided to come back home and open a flower shop. I was just craving simplicity, you know? Life was moving so fast, and I felt like this was the best way to slow it down.”
“What did you do before?”
“I worked in the information-management-and-technology department of a large hospital network. I wrote a lot of code, traveled to other locations to teach our employees how to use the software whenever we had an update,” she says. “Extremely boring desk job with demanding hours and an even more demanding boss.”
“That’s quite the leap . . . software engineer to florist. What made you want to open a flower shop?”
“My grandmother had one when I was a little girl.” Her lips spread into a nostalgic grin. “She taught me everything she knew. It was always in the back of my mind, but I never really took it seriously until the last couple of years.” Sitting up, she adds, “Believe it or not, the name Stem was actually Donovan’s idea. Back when we were in college at Michigan State, I told him if we ever got married and moved back home that I was opening a floral shop, and he said I should call it Stem. I guess I just got it in my head that it was a great name. He could be very influential sometimes.”