Page 2 of Screwed by the Minotaur in Hallow’s Cove (Hallow’s Cove #6)

The faun tapped her pen on the pad she held, bringing me back to the diner. I decided on a breakfast burrito and coffee. The faun returned with coffee and creamer.

“Ted doesn’t mess with fancy espresso drinks.” She nodded toward the Bigfoot manning the griddle “But if you are more of a latte gal, Cool Beans is the place to go for coffee in town.” The town must be really tight-knit if she was willing to tell me that there were better places to get coffee.

Once she was gone, I pulled my notebook out of my bag and started jotting down first steps for renovating the space.

My contractor in the city had recommended one here in Hallow’s Cove and I was due to meet him back at the flower shop early that afternoon.

I wanted to have a list of priorities in hand, but I got lost in thought and started doodling little flowers similar to the ones I anticipated painting all over the shop.

I loved painting and had even gone to art school when Mom insisted I get a degree before taking over the flower business.

She never wanted me to feel like taking over the shop was my duty.

Despite my passion, Mom couldn’t grasp my desire to take over the flower shop.

After spending a year immersed in art school, learning about color theory and design principles, I returned with a vision to revitalize the business.

Mom’s work was amazing, with lush arrangements and vibrant colors, but as was true with everything, trends were shifting and Mom wasn’t keeping up anymore.

People were looking for new and different ways to arrange flowers at events—more abstract and modern designs that broke away from traditional styles—and even just in a regular bouquet, they wanted something fresh.

Eager to infuse new life into the shop, I worked alongside Mom in my early twenties.

This business had deep roots; my grandmother, Daisy, had started it during a time when women of color rarely owned businesses and passed it onto my mother, Dahlia.

Now it was time for me, Azalea, to continue in their footsteps.

Things were going smoothly, with me learning the ropes and adding my creative flair, when Mom fell ill.

Designing the floral arrangements for her funeral was a heart-wrenching task I hadn’t expected to face so soon. I carefully selected the finest dahlias to honor her memory and scattered her ashes among the wildflowers in the preserve near our home, a place she had always loved.

And now I was here, in Hallow’s Cove, at Britt’s urging, and I hoped beyond hope that this would be a new place for me to set down roots.

Back at the shop, I was waiting on a contractor that I had to assume would be a monster, but had no idea what type.

I peered through the shop’s window and saw a giant form approaching me.

This had to be Randy. He was easily seven feet tall and that wasn’t counting the dark gray horns that sprouted from his brow and curled backward.

He stepped through, lowering his head so his horns would fit.

I tried to keep myself from gasping audibly as he entered the shop.

If I thought the minotaur from the morning was huge, he had nothing on Randy.

This guy had to be over seven feet of green-gray skin.

I cocked my head to the side, trying to take him all in.

He had to be an ogre. An ogre in his… fifties?

His tusks were incredibly long, pointing upward past his broad nose.

His long black hair was tied back with a leather strap and graying at the temples.

As the door closed behind him, he flicked his yellow eyes up and down me.

“You Lea?” he asked in a gravelly voice.

“That’s me! Are you Randy?” I put my hand out to shake his, but he already had a clipboard and pencil out.

“Yep. I am. And you want to turn this into a flower shop?” He looked around the space, lips pursed. I wondered if he was thinking this new city girl was out of her depth.

“Well, flowers and plants,” I hedged, nervous all of a sudden.

“Hmm,” was all he responded as he started walking the space.

Was that a good hmm or a bad hmm ? I followed him, trying to read the notes he was taking on his clipboard, but he was too tall. He meandered the shop for several minutes before finally turning to me.

“Is there anything you want in particular?”

“I would love to keep the original windows if that’s possible. And I need more shelves. A lot more shelves.”

He nodded and scribbled more notes down on his clipboard. His expression was unreadable—I had no way to tell if he found these requests reasonable or not.

“And what kind of flowers do you plan to sell?” he asked eventually.

“Oh, all sorts! I love being able to use locally grown flowers, but also have great relationships with wholesalers that work with hard-to find flowers and—”

He cut me off. “Do you think you’ll carry tulips?”

Tulips had a season so they were only available part of the year, but they were a fairly standard flower to keep on hand.

“Yes, of course. Tulips and bulbs, in case anyone wants to plant their own.”

The ogre’s face broke into a big smile. “My wife loves tulips and has the worst luck getting them to grow. I am sure she will be happy to have you in town.”

“I would love to help her plant tulips!” Maybe this was it. Maybe I really could fit in here. Something in my chest relaxed.

Maybe I could be happy again

“Well, let’s get you settled here first and then I can drag you over to meet Beth.” He went back to his notepad. “I can get you up and running in six weeks, maybe less. Does that work?”

I beamed at him. Good contractors were hard to find. A six-week timeline was a huge win. It would give me time to start ordering flowers and getting the word out that the town now had a florist.

“That sounds amazing!”

“Alright, I will get my team ready and we will start Monday morning.”

I stuck out my hand to shake his in agreement and he didn’t hesitate. “It is going to be a pleasure working with you, Ms. Thompson.”

“Please, call me Lea.”

“Alright, Lea. I’ll see you Monday morning.”