Chapter 430

Olivia

It was only a few days after I had promised to make the pamphlet for Nathan, and it was time for my first interview. My first stop was the local florist, Blossom’s Bouquets, which was actually where I had intended on purchasing my wedding bouquet before the official wedding was canceled.

I stepped into the shop, and almost immediately, the scent of fresh flowers enveloped me. Despite the cold weather outside, the inside of the florist’s shop was always warm and a little humid, the perfect environment for plants.

Long vines hung from pots stacked on tall shelves, large potted plants lined the walls, and there were flower displays aplenty. I always liked coming here for fresh flowers for the villa, which was why I chose this business as my first stop out of many around town. I knew the owner well, and I figured that it would be a good ice-breaker to get started on my work.

“Good morning, Olivia!” greeted Mrs. Williams, the owner of the shop. She was a petite older woman with a perpetual smile and hands that were always moving, either trimming stems or arranging petals with a deftness that spoke of years of practice.

“Morning, Mrs. Williams,” I replied, pulling out my notepad. “I know I’m a little early, but—”

“Nonsense,” she said, her eyes twinkling as she set down the bouquet she was arranging and picked up a tray with a teapot and two cups. “The earlier the better.” We settled at a small table that was almost hidden amongst all of the potted plants and displays, and I pulled out my notebook while Mrs. Williams poured the tea.

“So, tell me about Blossom’s Bouquet,” I started, my pen poised.

Mrs. Williams beamed as she sipped her tea. It was obvious that she was proud of her business. “Well, we’ve been here nearly twenty years,” she said. “Started by my late husband and me. We specialize in custom arrangements. Weddings, funerals, celebrations, you name it.”

I scribbled down notes as she spoke. “And what would you say makes your shop unique?”

“We grow almost all of our own flowers,” she explained. “Local, sustainable, and we have varieties you can't find anywhere else. Plus, I like to think we add a personal touch. Flowers speak, Olivia. They tell stories. We just help them along.”

I nodded, understanding. “What’s your favorite part of the job?”

Her eyes softened. “I love the hidden messages behind flowers,” she explained. “It’s called floriography. We all know that red roses are symbolic of romance, but did you know that certain flowers can indicate deeper messages?”

“Can you give me an example?” I asked.

“Well,” she began, “yellow roses often symbolize friendship, lilies represent innocence, and sometimes, it can go even deeper than that. For example, giving someone marigolds may imply that you feel jealous, and Sweet Williams may indicate that you want to end a romance with the recipient.”

As I wrote, I quirked an eyebrow. “That’s fascinating,” I said, scribbling furiously on my notepad.

We continued chatting, and I learned more about her suppliers, her challenges, and her dreams for the shop. I took pictures of her, the shop, the vibrant arrays of flowers—each shot capturing a bit of the essence of Blossom’s Bouquets.

Leaving the shop with a sense of accomplishment, I headed towards the next stop for the day, which was the local butcher, followed by the town’s art gallery, the cafe, and finally, the consignment shop.

By the time I was finished for the day, the sun was beginning to lower in the sky. I was exhausted, and there was still so much to do, but I felt oddly more fulfilled than I had expected. There was something about the interviews, the photographs, and connecting with the people of my pack that made my heart feel lighter.

And as I made my way to the Council building to share my progress with Nathan, I couldn’t help but smile a bit. This was only the beginning, and I wasn’t quite ready to give up on the bakery just yet, but it was promising. I enjoyed this work, and something about it made me feel even more connected to my newfound official status as Luna.

I entered the Council building and was greeted by the receptionist, who shot me a smile from behind her desk. “Is Nathan busy?” I asked as I walked up to her.

“He just got out of a meeting a little while ago, Luna,” she said. “He should be in his office.”

With that, I headed to Nathan’s office. I knocked on the door, but there was no answer. Furrowing my brow, I cracked the door open to see if he was inside; and there he was…

Slumped over his desk, papers scattered around, fast asleep. My heart clenched at the sight as I opened the door wider. “Nathan?” I called out quietly as I entered.

He didn’t answer. Even as I shut the door behind me and approached his desk, he didn’t stir. He was so soundly asleep that he was even snoring softly, his face pressed against the hard wood of his desk.

I paused for a moment, chewing the inside of my cheek as I looked down at him. Part of me wondered if I should wake him up, but another part of me wanted to let him sleep.

He had been pulling late nights at the Council building ever since the wedding, attending countless meetings, filling out paperwork, and fighting against the slowly-turning wheels of bureaucracy. I knew that it was going to be an issue, but he was also dead set on being noticed by the Alpha association, and I knew that there would be no convincing him to relax anytime soon.

But as I looked down at him, seeing the dark circles under his eyes and the way that his shoulders were still tense even in sleep, it made me worried. We had talked about going on a much-needed honeymoon, but he had said he needed to get more work done first. I did admire that about him, in a way.

But how much work was too much? We had twins at home, with another baby on the way; he would need a break soon, before a disaster happened.

Still, with a sigh, I knew that I couldn’t wake him. At the very least, even if he woke up with a sore neck and a sense of defeat, I knew that it was best to let him sleep.

I glanced around until I spotted a small blanket thrown over the back of a chair; it was more a decorative piece, but it would do. I gently laid it over his shoulders, suppressing a chuckle as he muttered and shifted in his sleep.

Then, I planted a soft kiss on his cheek before stepping backwards. As I left his office, I took one last look at him, feeling my heart wrench at the sight of him.

“Don’t overwork yourself,” I whispered, feeling worried about just how far this could go.

I closed the door quietly, taking care so as not to wake him by accident, and then I solemnly made my way out of the Council building and began my walk home.