Chapter 1: Cancelled
“I’m sorry, Andromeda. I know you were counting on that party. I was, too, but they decided to change their venue at the last minute.”
“It’s no problem, Russell. I’m sorry the booking fell through for you, too.”
“We’ll be fine. I just hope this doesn’t cause too much damage to your bottom line. I know you farmers have tight profit margins.”
“No tighter than you deal with, I'm sure. Stuff happens. I’m used to it. Call me up if you have any small last-minute jobs you need done.
“Will do, buttercup. See you later.”
Goddamn it.
Andie took a violent swipe at her cell screen and pinched her brow. She huffed out into morning sunshine and perfumed air and bee-buzz. All this Arcadian beauty and idyllic charm surrounding her had her scowling in absolute disgust. Running a struggling business had a way of ruining the mood.
That was the third order that fell through for the farm in two weeks, and it was only the end of May. At this rate, they’d be lucky if they were in the black by the close of the busy season.
Andie wasn't sure how much more of this shit the business could take. Calypso Flower Farm had a bad year last year and was already on life support.
“Bosko!”
Zane Bosko helped Andie with the growing and harvesting operations. She also discovered that he was surprisingly talented at design, on the special occasions the farm provided that service. She didn’t know what she would do without the green-thumbed man-whore.
His sweaty blonde head popped up from behind a row of peonies under the partial shade of a gumbo-limbo tree. He was shirtless and collecting a small crop of flowers the color of bubblegum and candy hearts.
“After you’re done picking those, go make up a few loose sprays to show Ravi at Sitar. Tell him half-price. Use whatever we were going to use for that anniversary party at Menage.”
“No problemo, boss. Anything else?”
“Yeah, we’re gonna have to do some farmers markets before August, so make a list of what our options will be for the last half of July. Thanks.”
Andie trudged down a muddy path between a row of lime-green zinnias and one of orange marigolds with blooms the size of softballs. She checked for mildew and any signs of pests and let out a sigh of relief when she found none.
Passing by her fairytale grove of magnolias and a hedge of butterfly bush covered in yellow flittering swallowtails, she mentally checked off a few items on her to-do list and beelined to the cooler located at the west end of the farm office.
The cooler was just a cargo trailer that was air conditioned. Andie popped open the back hatch and strode into the frigid space. The units and overhead shop lights were powered by a small generator, and a low whirring sound bounced off the metal walls.
Looking around at all the bins and canisters brimming with cut flowers in shades of violet and cream, a feeling of relief welled up inside of her.
Thank god they still had the Montgomery job this weekend.
The engagement party for the Miami billionaire was the biggest commission Calypso Flower Farm had ever landed. And Andromeda Shaw was going to do it right. This was a capital occasion to show off her team’s superior blooms and designer skills.
She smiled to herself and soaked up the calm infusing her blood.
Andie spent the rest of the morning packing a few orders for transport, brewing up another batch of preservative, and harvesting a couple giant trash bags of Calathea and Chamaedorea palm greens for the Montgomery party. The bride-to-be had requested a lot of tropical foliage in the arrangements. Andie couldn’t wait to experiment with the fanned and variegated leaves.
She was heading toward the cooler again when she saw Crystal rocket out the office door, frantically looking around for something, shoulders scrunched.
“Hey!” Andie yelled out, dropping the filled trash bags and frowning. “What’s up, Tiger Lily?”
The streaks of orange in the young woman’s black hair caught the light and flamed outward in a bronzed halo. Her face looked like someone had just run over one of her beloved tabby cats.
Crystal Truong was Andie’s bookkeeper and marketing extraordinaire. She also handled the phone and appointments and came up with the most magical color schemes.
“We have a gigantic problem.”
Crystal also had a penchant for drama; she thought running out of Frank’s RedHot sauce was a gigantic problem.
Andie ambled toward her and shrugged. “Then we’ll fix it. Tell me.”
“Montgomery’s office just called.”
A spear of ice-cold dread ran the course of Andie’s spine. She waited, silent and breathless.
Crystal took a visible, blimp-sized breath.
“They cancelled.”
“What?” The word came out as a shot fired. It wasn’t panicked or aghast or even questioning. It was livid.
“Yeah, they flippin’ cancelled. Gave no explanation.”
Andie exhaled through her nose and turned to face the bluing distance of rows upon rows of flowers and ornamental shrubs.
A blazing line of fiery red snapdragons shook in the hot puffs of wind rolling over the landscape. Absentmindedly, Andie thought about how she loved sitting in the shade of her big live oak and watching all the hummingbirds raid the blaze of those flowers for nectar.
“Did you ask about payment?”
Their policy was designed to attract customers, since they were a relatively new business. $50-100 deposit, depending on the size of the order, with only a third of the contracted price due 30 days before the event.
They’d never billed Montgomery for that down payment. It was a significant amount, to say the least.
The farm had had their plate full, and Andie had been careless. In an uncharacteristic moment of negligence, she told Crystal to forget about sending the invoice, taking for granted that the billionaire would be good for the entire 50 grand order upon delivery and setup. He had a reputation for being a businessman that was tough, but also honest and reliable.
When the silence stretched, Andie whipped around to face Crystal.
Crystal’s delicate features told her everything she needed to know.
“Are you serious? What did they say? Who’d you talk to?”
“His assistant. She said they didn’t receive any notice and that Mr. Montgomery was under no obligation to pay anything. I tried explaining the situation to her, but she cut me off.”
Andie was already storming her way to the office.
“Get Montgomery’s office on the line for me, babe.”
Inside the cramped office, Crystal sipped what was probably her eighth cup of coffee that day, pushed off Harley the cat from her desk, and dialed up Domus Property Group, Inc.
When Andie finally got on the line with Montgomery’s assistant, she switched into polite beast mode.
“Yes, Ms. Shaw,” purred the sultry voice on the other line. “I’m sorry to say that there was a mishap, and we had to cancel the order. We are so sorry for any inconvenience this may have caused you.”
Mishap?
Inconvenience?
She had 50-fucking-thousand dollars of flowers in the cooler, probably more. Andie wanted to make a good impression and went a little overboard with the harvesting. Now, those flowers had nowhere to go, nothing to prettify, and were set to rot.
All because some rich asshole probably decided on a spur-of-the-moment date or venue change.
“Well, Layla, I’m sorry to hear that, but we still need to collect a third of the contract.”
“No bill was received by the office, Ms. Shaw. I don’t believe we owe you anything.”
“I know, and I’m sorry about that. But our policy does require Mr. Montgomery to pay $16,500. It is my understanding that Mr. and the future Mrs. Montgomery were aware of that stipulation when they placed the order.”
Crystal nodded her head vigorously, confirming her words. Andie’s cheeks flushed at the amount. $16,500 was like peanut dust to a man of Gabriel Montgomery’s worth.
The line went dead for a moment, and then Layla Cruise’s voice burst through the hush like a battering ram.
“That may be, Ms. Shaw, but a verbal agreement is not binding. And I must reiterate: we never received a bill.”
“I wouldn’t want to hire a collection agency or take Mr. Montgomery to arbitration, but—”
“I’m happy to hear that you wouldn’t want to do those things because I think you’ll find it nearly impossible to do them, anyway. Without a bill. The written contract states only that no refund will be given if the order is cancelled less than 21 days prior to the event. Once again, I am sorry for the inconvenience, Ms. Shaw. Goodbye and good day.”
Click.
God fucking damn it.
This was turning out to be one of the worst weeks of her professional life.
Andie plopped down onto the ratty old love seat adjacent to the desk. She stared up at the calendar on the paneled walls.
Old Javier—Mr. June—gazed out at her from the picture, buck naked in a straw hat with all his dangly bits hidden by a big spritz of blue delphiniums.
The Homestead Garden Club put the calendar together last year as part of a fundraising event. Prominent members of the club posed for risqué, pinup-style photos with a floral flare for each month. It was a huge hit. People loved it so much the club had to do five print runs.
Andie was in there somewhere, too. She was tickled pink to have been asked by the club council, and she was proud to have a number of avid fans at Casa del Sol Nursing Home.
“What would Javi do?” Andie mused, peering up at the 67-year-old hunk who happened to run a successful flower business for going on 40 years.
A ghost of a smile darkened her lips.
Didn’t they say the customer was always right?
Well, Andromeda Shaw would go the extra mile for Gabriel Montgomery.
She would give that man exactly what he paid for.
