Page 87 of Crash

Thirty minutes later, I pushed open the shop’s door, bells jingling overhead. The scent of roses and lilies hit me like a wall of perfume as I approached the counter where a woman arranged a bouquet.

“Hello,” I said, keeping my voice steady. “Can I speak to the owner, please?”

“That would be me.” She smiled, setting aside a stem of baby’s breath. “How can I help you?”

“My name is Tessa Kincaid.” I watched as recognition flickered across her face. “I called earlier.”

The woman tried to keep her poker face, but she was terrible at it. Her smile faltered, shoulders stiffening, as if someone had replaced her spine with steel.

“Ah, right, about the wedding,” she stammered. “Yes, I’m so very sorry, but we are booked up that weekend.”

I kept my voice gentle, my smile genuine. “What did they offer you?”

She dropped her gaze, her fingers nervously arranging and rearranging the flowers before her. “Pardon me?”

“Once Upon a Lifetime,” I clarified, watching her face pale. “What did they offer you?”

Her smile vanished completely.

“We’re both businesswomen,” I said, my voice firm but measured. Unfortunately, my lungs seemed to constrict without warning, so intensely that I had to take slow, shallow breaths, praying she wouldn’t mistake my symptoms as nerves. This wasn’t nerves. Emotionally, I was cool and calm. “I came all the way here to understand what I’m up against.”

She studied me, fingers absently arranging a spray of baby’s breath. “How would that information be pertinent?”

“I’m running a small business.” I softened my tone. “There’s a massive corporation trying to cut me out before I even have a chance to get my legs under me. You remember what that was like, don’t you?” I gestured to the beautiful shop around us. “When you started this place, surely, there were some bumps along the road.”

She regarded me carefully, something shifting in her expression.

“Tell me,” I continued, trying to keep my voice strong in the face of an onslaught of nausea, “when you were starting up, did the biggest flower shop in Chicago try to shut you down before you even opened? Did they call every supplier in the Chicagoland area to blacklist you?” I leaned forward slightly.“Small businesses need to have each other’s backs. Today, it’s me they’re targeting. What if, next year, some massive florist starts coming after the local flower shops?”

Her shoulders dropped.

“If you truly can’t handle another wedding, that’s one thing. But don’t blackball me.” I held her gaze. “I might be small today, but I don’t intend to stay small. And when I grow, I intend to bring other small businesses up with me. That’s the difference. I won’t use dirty tactics like they do to get ahead.”

She sighed, her entire body softening as she placed her palms on the counter. “Look, I’m sorry. They’re the biggest wedding planner in the area. They gave me an ultimatum: work with them or work with you. They give me over a dozen weddings a year.”

“They do,” I acknowledged. “But do you really want to be in business with someone who employs these tactics? Who actively tries to crush the little guy? Companies like that can’t be trusted. They might give you business today, but if they’re willing to stoop this low to hurt me, they might do it to you in the future.”

The owner regarded me for several seconds, seemingly digesting my words, and then she retrieved a three-ring binder from beneath the counter. As she flipped through the pages, her posture seemed to shrink with each turn. “I have eleven weddings booked with Once Upon a Lifetime this year alone. Do you know how much profit that is for a small business like me?”

“You’re right; it’s substantial. They have that advantage.” I nodded. “But I would venture to say I have one advantage they don’t: I won’t keep you at the mercy of corporate terms. I suspect they’ve demanded pricing that barely puts you above profit margins.”

The sudden straightening of her shoulders told me I’d hit the mark.

“Every bride deserves the wedding of her dreams,” I added, “not just the ones who’ve hitched their wagon to a corporation trying to bully their way to a monopoly. A wedding isn’t supposed to be a battleground for businesses to try to destroy each other. It’s meant to be a beacon of hope, a reminder that love is worth fighting for.” I paused, letting my words sink in. “I’m not asking you to give up those eleven weddings.Theyare. I’m simply asking you to add wedding number twelve. I have a beautiful bride who’s going through some really difficult personal problems right now. She doesn’t deserve to have her wedding sabotaged by corporate greed.”

She drew in a slow breath, uncertainty still clouding her features.

I placed my business card on the counter. “I’m not a big corporation. I don’t have dozens of weddings to offer you. Not yet. But I’m an honest businesswoman who intends to grow with respect and dignity for all the companies I work with. I will never strong-arm anyone to get my way, and I will never put small businesses in the impossible position they’ve put you in.” I stepped back from the counter. “I’m sorry they did this to you.”

She glanced down at my card, her fingers hovering over its edge.

“Think about it,” I said softly, grateful that the worst of the breathlessness had passed, though my stomach still churned. “I appreciate you giving me a call either way.”

The bells chimed behind me as I stepped into the Chicago afternoon, my phone already buzzing in my pocket.

It was Blake.

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