Blooming Hills Florist Novels & Stories

Minnie opened the door. A delivery man stood there holding a sleek white box tied with a crimson ribbon. “Delivery for Minerva Rivera.” She took it, heart fluttering for reasons she didn’t want to name. Inside was a simple bouquet of pale pink roses and eucalyptus, arranged with quiet elegance. Nestled among the blooms was a card in that same clean block handwriting. Looking forward to our partnership. – Johnny C. No hearts. No “xoxo.” Just words. But somehow, they landed harder than any emoji ever could.

Since she had chosen him, she was determined to spend the rest of her life with him and minimize any external factor that might affect their relationship. Suddenly, her phone rang. After she answered the call, an ecstatic look came into her eyes. She immediately rushed back upstairs and tossed away every worry in her mind. When she returned to the bedroom to find Dominic still asleep, she carefully shuffled into the room to collect their documents so she could get them tickets to Mapleia. The moment the pop-up on her phone indicated that the tickets were purchased, a deep voice asked from behind her, “Where are you going?” It was nothing like the voice filled with warmth last night. This one

"Why bring that up now? It's too early. Plus, the company's got me swamped, and I don't have time for a wedding." Holly gripped the fabric beneath her, her lower lip caught between her teeth in a bashful plea, "We don't have to have a wedding. I just want to make it official." Luke froze in his place. As the silence grew heavy, his ringing phone broke the tension. He stepped away to take the call, and Holly started to get dressed. A misstep sent her tumbling into the bushes, and a flash of red caught her eye. Shaking, she grabbed a tiny camera hidden among the leaves.

Jamie The studio smells like eucalyptus, damp moss, and the faint peppery bite of snapdragons. My camera’s already out, lens hood in place, memory card cleared. This shoot’s going to be a good one, I can feel it. The florist, a petite brunette named Iris, with forearms strong enough to wrestle small bears, is unpacking buckets of blooms like she’s conducting a symphony. “Okay, these,” she says, pulling out armfuls of coral peonies, “Are the divas. Handle with care. And don’t look them directly in the eye.”

I stood on the pavement and stared up at the signboard of the shop he’d parked his ride in front of. “The Blossom Blooms,” I read out loud. It was a tiny floral shop wedged between the sporting goods store and the local pharmacy, but it stood out for the gorgeous, colorful blooms on display on the other side of its glass storefront. “You’re here to buy flowers?” I asked. “You like stating the obvious, huh,” he replied. Ollie held the door open for me, and it almost made me forgive him for his last sarcastic comment, almost. The Blossom Blooms interior smelled heavily of roses and magnolias and hyacinths and a few others I didn’t know the names for. This mix of scents was kind of nice and not

The coolness of the shop was a relief after the heat outside. "Welcome," the elderly florist started, looking up from her work with a warm smile, but I cut her off, my voice rough from hours of silence. "I need a bouquet," I said, the words tumbling out faster than I intended. "The largest one you can make. Delphiniums… blue ones, and white gardenias. Don't mix them with those cheap ferns. Use the thick silk ribbon." My chest heaved slightly under my suit jacket. My hands trembled as I spoke, though whether from exhaustion or anticipation, I couldn't say. The florist's eyes widened slightly at my intensity, but she nodded with professional understanding.

The air was filled with the sweet, heady scent of blooming flowers, transporting visitors to a serene oasis amidst the rural chaos. Inside, the shop was divided into cosy, intimate spaces, each showcasing a different aspect of the florist's art. To the left, a stunning display of fresh-cut flowers overflowed from gleaming glass vases, their colours and textures expertly arranged to create a visual masterpiece. Roses, carnations, and sunflowers mingled with exotic blooms, each one perfectly placed to create a symphony of hues and shapes.

The sound of soft music and gentle chatter filled the air, mingling with the sweet scent of blooming flowers and the promise of an unforgettable evening. As guests made their way toward the entrance, they were greeted by a stunning floral arrangement that adorned the doorway. The vibrant blooms – a mix of roses, peonies, and hydrangeas – were expertly arranged to create a breathtaking display of color and texture, setting the tone for the opulent celebration that lay ahead.

"This is—wow." Zac chuckled softly. "My grandfather was a big reader. He quoted literature as if he were a human book himself." I turned to look at Zac, my eyes lit up. "Zac, this is amazing." Zac shrugged nonchalantly, smiling. "I thought you'd like it." He walked over to one wall, skimming the shelves until he pulled out a book. "I wanted you to have this." I looked at the book he held out for me to take. It was called "Bloom" by Kelle Hampton. I smiled at the title, meeting his eyes. "Wha—but why?"

His eyes stayed open, glassy, but there was nothing left inside. I dropped the gun, straightened my spine, and stepped over the corpse. “You know what to do.” They nodded. Pulling my phone from my jacket pocket, I scrolled to the one number that had nothing to do with blood or vengeance. When my secretary answered on the first ring, my voice was calm, almost gentle. “Find me the most expensive florist in Philadelphia,” I said. “Tomorrow morning, I want the largest, most beautiful arrangement they can create delivered straight to my girl. White lilies, red roses, orchids—make it grand and unforgettable. Spare no cost.”