Fractures and foundations

The first official day of my partnership with Lorenzo Hayes began not with fanfare, but with the distinct sound of shattering glass.

"Dammit!" I muttered, crouching down to pick up the shards of a broken vase. The peonies I'd been arranging lay scattered on the counter, their vibrant pink petals bruised and damp. It was barely nine in the morning, and already, the day was spiraling into chaos.

But that wasn't surprising, was it? After all, I'd just agreed to work with a man who radiated control and perfection. A man who operated like life was a chessboard and everyone else mere pawns in his grand strategy. And here I was—a flower shop owner whose greatest joy came from arranging daisies and hydrangeas in little wicker baskets. What was I even thinking?

As I swept up the glass, the bell above the door chimed. I didn't bother looking up, assuming it was one of my regulars.

"Good morning, Ms. Summers," came Lorenzo's deep, familiar voice.

Of course.

I straightened, clutching a handful of glass shards in one hand, and turned to face him. He stood there in another immaculately tailored suit, his dark eyes scanning the shop like he was evaluating a business deal instead of stepping into a place meant to soothe the soul.

"Lorenzo," I said, forcing a smile. "You're early."

His lips quirked into what might have been a smirk. Or maybe it was just his version of polite acknowledgment. "Punctuality is important, don't you think?"

I didn't answer, instead brushing past him to toss the broken glass into the trash. "Well, welcome to Petals & Posies. Let me guess—you've come to tell me everything I'm doing wrong already?"

His brows lifted slightly, the only sign my sarcasm had registered. "Not at all. I'm here to observe. See how the shop runs on a typical day."

"You mean, see how my quaint little flower shop operates in all its disorganized glory?"

"Something like that," he said, completely unruffled.

I wanted to be annoyed by his calm, self-assured demeanor, but truthfully, I was more irritated with myself. Every time Lorenzo was around, my emotions went haywire. One moment I was defensive, bristling at his presence; the next, I was noticing the way his eyes softened when they landed on certain things in the shop—the bundles of lavender hanging by the window, or the handwritten chalkboard signs with floral quotes.

"Alright," I said finally, wiping my hands on my apron. "If you're going to 'observe,' let's get one thing straight: this shop isn't a Fortune 500 company. It doesn't operate on spreadsheets and quarterly reports. It operates on heart. So if you're here to pick apart everything I'm doing wrong—"

"I'm not," he interrupted smoothly.

"Really? Because you seem like the type to critique every little thing."

For the first time, Lorenzo's expression softened, a flicker of something almost playful crossing his face. "I'm here to understand how you work, Lila. Not tear it apart."

The sincerity in his voice caught me off guard. It was the first time he'd addressed me by my first name without it sounding clinical, and it made me pause. Maybe—just maybe—there was more to him than the cold, calculating businessman I'd pegged him for.

But before I could respond, the bell jingled again, and Mrs. Callahan, one of my regulars, stepped inside.

"Good morning, dear!" she chirped, her bright floral scarf matching the bouquet of carnations she'd brought in for recycling.

"Morning, Mrs. Callahan," I said, flashing her a genuine smile. "What can I do for you today?"

"Oh, just here to pick up my usual order." She glanced at Lorenzo, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. "And who's this? A new helper?"

I bit back a laugh at the thought of Lorenzo Hayes—a billionaire CEO—being mistaken for my shop assistant. But before I could correct her, Lorenzo stepped forward and extended a hand.

"Lorenzo Hayes. I'm Lila's business partner."

Mrs. Callahan's eyes widened. "Business partner? Oh, my! Well, aren't you a handsome young man. Lila, you didn't tell me you had such distinguished company!"

I felt my cheeks heat. "He's not—I mean, it's just business, Mrs. Callahan."

She waved a dismissive hand. "Oh, of course, dear. But still, it's always nice to see new faces in the shop. And such a sharp dresser, too."

Lorenzo smiled—a real, genuine smile that made my stomach do an unexpected flip. "Thank you. It's a pleasure to meet you."

After a bit more chatter, Mrs. Callahan paid for her bouquet and left, leaving behind a trail of lilac perfume. The moment the door closed, I turned to Lorenzo.

"You didn't have to play along," I said.

He raised a brow. "Play along with what?"

"The whole 'business partner' thing. It's not like Mrs. Callahan knows or cares about the details of our arrangement."

Lorenzo shrugged, his expression unreadable. "She's part of your world, isn't she? If I'm going to understand this shop, I need to understand the people who keep it alive."

I blinked, caught off guard by the simple truth of his statement. He wasn't wrong. My customers were the heart of this place, and if Lorenzo was serious about helping the shop thrive, he'd have to understand that.

"Fine," I said, relenting. "But don't let her matchmaking attempts go to your head."

The corner of his mouth twitched. "I'll try my best."

The rest of the morning passed in a blur of activity. Lorenzo watched as I juggled customer orders, re-stocked the shelves, and fielded questions about upcoming events. At first, his presence made me self-conscious, but after a while, I almost forgot he was there.

Almost.

It was hard to ignore someone like Lorenzo. Even when he wasn't saying anything, his presence seemed to fill the room. And every so often, I'd catch him watching me—not in a critical way, but in a way that made me feel exposed, like he was peeling back the layers of who I was and trying to understand what made me tick.

By lunchtime, I was exhausted.

"I don't suppose billionaires take breaks, do they?" I asked, wiping my hands on a towel as I joined him at the counter.

"Depends on the day," he said, his tone light.

"Well, here in the real world, we eat lunch," I said. "There's a little café down the street. If you're hungry, you're welcome to join me. Or not. Up to you."

To my surprise, Lorenzo nodded. "Lead the way."

The café was a cozy, unassuming place with mismatched furniture and the smell of fresh bread wafting through the air. It was one of my favorite spots, and as I slid into a booth by the window, I realized how strange it was to have Lorenzo there with me.

He ordered black coffee and a turkey sandwich. I went for a grilled cheese and tomato soup.

"So," I said, stirring my soup. "What's your verdict so far? Is my shop salvageable, or am I a hopeless case?"

Lorenzo leaned back in his chair, studying me with those piercing gray eyes. "You're not hopeless, Lila. Far from it. But you're also too hard on yourself. You've built something remarkable—something worth saving. You just need the right tools to take it further."

I wasn't sure whether to be flattered or annoyed. "And you think you're the right tool for the job?"

He smirked. "I think I can help. But it's not about me. It's about you being willing to take the risk."

I frowned, swirling my spoon in my soup. "I've never been good at taking risks. My whole life has been about playing it safe. About creating something stable, something I could count on."

Lorenzo's gaze softened, and for a moment, he looked almost... human. "Sometimes stability isn't enough. Sometimes you have to leap and trust that the net will appear."

I looked up at him, surprised by the vulnerability in his voice. It was the first time he'd let his guard down, even just a little.

"Is that what you did?" I asked quietly. "When you built your company?"

He hesitated, then nodded. "I didn't have much of a choice. My father... let's just say he wasn't the type to hand out second chances. I had to prove myself. I had to succeed, or there was no safety net. No fallback plan."

I stared at him, realizing how little I actually knew about this man who had swept into my life and turned it upside down. There was more to him than the cold, polished exterior he projected. He was a man who had fought for everything he had, who had built an empire from nothing.

Maybe we weren't so different after all.

By the time we returned to the shop, the afternoon rush was in full swing. Lorenzo stayed for another hour, helping where he could, though it was clear that handling flowers wasn't exactly his forte.

When he finally left, the shop felt strangely quiet without him.

I sank into a chair behind the counter, letting out a long sigh. Today had been... unexpected, to say the least. But as much as I hated to admit it, I was beginning to see the potential in this partnership.

Maybe Lorenzo Hayes wasn't the enemy I'd thought he was.

Maybe he was exactly what I needed.