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After inheriting a substantial fortune from her parents, Jasmine made the significant move to the state, a bustling city that promised possibilities and new beginnings. This decision, however, was not rooted in a longing for adventure or fresh experiences. Instead, it was born out of profound tragedy and heartache. Just before her relocation, a devastating accident took away her beloved parents, leaving Jasmine to confront a world that felt utterly foreign and overwhelming. With the sudden loss of her family, she was thrust into a painful reality, one where she had to learn to navigate life without their guiding presence.

In the wake of their passing, Jasmine was engulfed by an overwhelming sense of loss. The emotional turmoil she experienced was all-consuming, often rendering her paralyzed by grief. She spent countless nights crying her heart out and waves of sadness crashed over her like a relentless tide. Despair whispered insidiously in her ear, convincing her that happiness was a distant memory. For quite some time, she sank into a deep depression, completely at war with the reality of existing without the people who had loved her unconditionally. The weight of her solitude pressed down on her chest, making even the simplest of tasks seem insurmountable.

Yet, despite these formidable obstacles, Jasmine was determined not to be defeated by her circumstances. Deep inside, a flickering flame of resilience burned, urging her to forge a new path for herself. A path that would honor her parents' memory while allowing her to rediscover joy. With her last savings in hand, she set her sights on states. A city that she hoped would serve as a backdrop for her healing journey and offer her the chance to rebuild her life from the ashes of her sorrow.

Once she settled into her new surroundings, Jasmine resolved to channel her grief into something beautiful and meaningful. She chose to open a charming flower shop. A quaint little haven adorned with vibrant blooms and fragrant blossoms. Through her profound love for flowers, she not only aimed to create a source of income but also aspired to cultivate a space that could bring joy and comfort to others. Each arrangement and bouquet she crafted was imbued with heartfelt emotion, a reflection of her journey through grief. In sharing the beauty of flowers with her community, Jasmine hoped to create a little piece of happiness in an otherwise challenging time, not only for herself but for those around her as well. Her flower shop became a sanctuary. A place where both Jasmine and her customers could find solace, healing, and perhaps even a semblance of hope amidst the unpredictable tides of life.

Junmo sat at his desk in the office of the Fairmont Century Hotel, his fingers tapping against the polished wood. The early afternoon sunlight streamed through the tall windows, illuminating the room with a golden hue. Papers and event schedules were scattered across the surface, but his focus was on the sticky note pinned to his planner: Order flowers for the charity gala – Stella’s request.

He sighed, leaning back in his chair. It had been a whirlwind few months since he’d started as the hotel manager. The transition from the pandemonium of his previous life to this new role was jarring, but it was the kind of stability he had craved. The familiar ache of his past crept in sometimes, the guilt over leaving her behind and the brutal confrontation with her father’s men. But he had to focus on the present. His family depended on him to stay out of trouble, and so did his team at the hotel.

“Mr. Park?” his assistant’s voice called softly from the doorway, snapping him out of his thoughts. “Ms. Brooks wanted me to remind you about the flower arrangements for the gala. The boutique on Main Street is highly recommended.”

Junmo nodded, grabbing his coat. “I’ll handle it. Hold any calls until I’m back.”

---

The streets of the city buzzed with activity as Junmo walked toward the flower shop. It was a brisk day, the air cool and refreshing against his skin. His mind wandered to the little apartment he rented not far from his brother’s place. It wasn’t much, but it was his space, and it reminded him that he was carving out a new life. His niece had painted a small canvas for him the last time they visited, a swirl of pinks and blues that now sat proudly on his coffee table.

The sound of a bell jingling above the door pulled him from his reverie as he stepped into the shop. The scent of fresh blooms enveloped him immediately, calming and inviting. The space was a delightful mess of colors—roses in deep reds, delicate lilies, cheerful sunflowers, and more exotic flowers he didn’t recognize. It was warm here, a stark contrast to the bustling city outside.

“I’m here on behalf of the Fairmont Century Hotel. Stella Brooks asked me to place an order for the charity gala this weekend.” He hesitated, glancing around at the flowers. “Something elegant but not overly extravagant. Warm tones, maybe. It’s an evening event, so something that stands out without being too bright.”

“Delivery would be best,” Junmo continued, pulling out a business card from his pocket and sliding it across the counter. “Here’s the hotel’s address. Let me know if there’s anything else you need.”

Jasmine had an instinctive awareness whenever a customer entered her shop, triggered by the familiar chime of the bell at the door. At that moment, a surge of vibrant energy would radiate from her, breaking free from behind a striking display of gladiolus and eucalyptus. The colors of the flowers mirrored her own enthusiasm. Jasmine wore a well-loved apron, its fabric marked with several smudges of soil. Each mark told a story of her active involvement in her floral designs. Her hands, often caked in dirt, were a testament to her dedication and love for her work.

Her smile was bright and warm, shining as brightly as the beautiful blooms that surrounded her. It lit up every corner of the space, instantly creating an inviting atmosphere. Customers felt at ease in her presence, comforted by the welcoming ambiance she effortlessly created.

"Oh, the charity Fairmont gala! How exciting!" she exclaimed with a joyful exuberance that filled the room. Her voice, rich with enthusiasm, quivered slightly as she clapped her hands together, a gesture that emphasized her delight. Her excitement was contagious, drawing in anyone who happened to be nearby. "I've always loved the idea of an event where flowers can do the talking,~!" she added, her bright eyes twinkling with creativity and inspiration.

"Warm tones for an elegant evening? Consider it done!" she declared confidently. The mention of the charity gala ignited a whirlwind of ideas in her mind. She began to visualize stunning flower arrangements that would not only meet but exceed what her client expected. With each passing second, she could almost see the blooms in her imagination, each one carefully selected to create a stunning atmosphere for the charity event.

As she scanned the room, her gaze danced from one flower to the next, envisioning the perfect combination of colors and textures. "I'm thinking rich, velvety reds with touches of deep oranges and golds—like a sunset after a perfect day," she mused, her voice filled with an almost childlike wonder. "Maybe some dahlias and ranunculus for texture, with a hint of greenery to balance the colors," she added, her mind racing with the endless possibilities. The image of the arrangements began to take shape in her mind's eye, and she couldn't wait to bring them to life.

Jasmine swiftly plucked a notepad from the counter and began scribbling ideas, her handwriting looping and cheerful, reflecting the joy and enthusiasm she felt for her work. "Don't you worry, Mr…?" she paused, tilting her head as she glanced up at Junmo, waiting for him to fill in the blank. Her eyes sparkled with anticipation, eager to learn more about the client and his vision for the gala.

As she took the business card from the counter, giving it a quick glance, her expression turned professional. "And delivery to the hotel, of course!" she assured him. "You'll have them there on time and looking their absolute best. It's what Clever Clover does!" she beamed, setting the card down carefully and looking up again, her smile unwavering. The confidence and pride she felt in her work were clearly shown.

"Anything else I can help you with while you're here?" she asked, her voice tinged with a hint of curiosity. "A little bouquet to brighten up your apartment, maybe?" she suggested, her eyes sparkling with a warm, nurturing energy. "Or a stalk of rose for your dear ones?"

The door would chime indicating the arrival of a new customer. As the man slipped into the store, he made a face of surprise and amusement. He then grinned at the interior of this quaint little shop. He took a minute to scan the shop before walking in further and slowly started taking in the sights and the smells. The smells. Oh, this shop smelled so wonderful! The slightest tinge of sadness hit him knowing that none of the vegetables or the flowers he grew outside his house would ever look as impressive as these.


Adam was wearing a dark gray almost heather-colored sports coat with matching pleated slacks, and a white curved cutaway button-up shirt with the top button left over, finished with a simple gun metal gray ring on his right ring finger. The smile on his face seemed to be out of his control as he walked around the little shop.


He saw the other equally as dapper man interact with the beautiful girl he surmised was the owner. He decided to keep his distance until they were finished. He figured perhaps he might wish to buy more than the nosegay he was going to place at the center of his dinner table, and another arrangement which was to be the centerpiece on his coffee table.

Lizbeth passes by on her way to the library, determined to learn to read. Away in her thoughts and fears, she almost doesn't notice this beautiful shop, but that intense scent of flowers that get into her nostrils make her halt. Lizbeth gazes over the bouquets and arrangements, sweet scent of roses and her preferred flowers, Hortensia. Slowly a smile comes over her lips.
Lizbeth is like frozen in front of this shop, reminding her of her own garden, her hands folded in front of her vest, her fingers interlaced, she closes her eyes. She finally found a place of piece in this city she doesn't like, she prefers her forest, but her project of learning to read obliges her to come to town.
She can't resist and after a while of pure gazing and waiting, she has to touch those beautiful flowers and approach her nuzzle to get more of this mesmerizing scent. All the rush of this town is forgotten, all her fears put aside for a moment.
She doesn't have any money to buy only one flower so she profits of this short moment of those shown outside that shop.