Page 96 of The Secret
My name is Danielle Perry and I’m with Sherburne Realty. We’d like to order approximately three dozen holiday arrangements to be sent to our clients…
I considered it for only a second before hitting Reply.
Hi, Ms. Perry. Thanks so much for your inquiry. Unfortunately, due to low quantities of stock, we won’t be able to fill your order. However, I highly recommend another local company, Ross Landscaping and Flowers…
Once upon a time,that time being six short months ago, I’d rather have chewed off my own thumbs than send a message like that to a potential client. Now, I hit Send with only the barest twinge of regret.
Fucked up, right? But this was theeighthpolite refusal I’d sent since Olivia’s unicorn party, and it was getting easier.
Admittedly, rational Micah wasn’t even eating popcorn anymore; he’d graduated to silently rocking himself in his corner and hoping the trauma would end. But there comes a time when you stop fighting the instincts that try to overtake you. A time when you have to admit that, despite every probability curve and on-paper incompatibility, the only person in the whole goddamn world who makes you feel whole and happy is a provoking troublemaker with infinite blue eyes and an irrepressible smile. And when that time comes? When you realize you’re in love with a man who happens to be your business rival’s son, and who very badly needs said business rival to stay in business and, hopefully, become financially solvent at some time in the near future? You do whatever it takes to give that man what he needs to make his dream come true. Even if it means referring your prospective clients to Angela Ross.
This, as Mason called it, was the Micah Bloom philosophy of love.
And once I’d committed to it, it had feltgood.
It wasn’t eventhatirrational. Blooms, the business, had never been aboutmeor even about being successful for the sake of it. It had always been about stability, about making sure I’d be able to provide for the people I loved. Now, Con just happened to be a part of that circle.
Even if he didn’t know it yet.
Even if it waskillingme to hold myself back from telling him, especially in the quiet times, like this morning, or even last night when he’d cuddled against me before falling asleep.
But the whole point was giving Constantine back his choices, right? And one thing I knew about this complex man I’d fallen for? He felt his debtskeenly,whether it was owing his mother for shit that happened in the past or not wanting me to give him a single cent of financial support for the business he wanted to start. The last thing I wanted was to tell him how I felt and have him feel like heowedme some kind of commitment in return.
Step one, making sure Constantine could start his business by giving Angela the flexibility to let it happen.
Step two, getting Constantine the financial capital tomakeit happen by selling off MoonFlower’s old house—literally the best use for that house I could think of, now that Mase no longer wanted it—and anonymously investing some of the proceeds in his business as an angel investor.
Step three, tell Constantine everything, and hope that when he was free to make a choice, when he was building his business and his career uncertainty was mostly settled, he’d choose to build something else, too.
A future. With me.
My phone vibrated again, this time with a text.
Con:Welp.Talked to my mother. Told her I’d be giving her a formal proposal in a couple of weeks.
Micah:And?
Con:Eh. Could have gone better. Still alive. I’ll tell you about it later.
Con:You still looking for a full-time employee? You could interview me for the position later. I’m very motivated.
Micah:And the boss already likes you. In any kind of position.
Con:Just for that, I’m making baked ziti tonight.
Micah:You’re hired.
Con:Thanks, baby. Later!
Yeah, it was safe to say I had no regrets about the path I’d chosen. Rational Micah could choke on his popcorn for all I cared.
“Micah?” Charlotte chirped as she walked in the door with a tablet clutched to her chest. “I’d like you to meet our beautiful couple, Violet Kelly and Trent Gaynor, who’ll be celebrating their wedding with us in September!”
I gave them a broad smile as I stood and offered my hand.
Violet was exactly as Charlotte had described her. Blonde and lithe as a fairy princess. She was also dressed like something out of the 1950s, in a little cashmere twinset and pearls, with her hair pulled back into a bun. She smiled at me a little, but couldn’t take my hand because her fiancé was currently wrapped around her like an octopus… or like a man who was having trouble standing on his own.
“Trent, honey,” she said a little breathlessly, trying to disentangle herself.
