Page 33 of Demon On Deck

“Hi there. Sorry for the wait. I’m Kallie. How can I help you guys today?”

They turn to me, both wearing what I can only describe as pleasantly tight smiles. Like they are happy but on the verge of agitation. It’s like looking at a living, breathing embodiment of the grumpy/grumpy book trope.

“We’re getting married and looking for a florist.” The woman says. Before I can continue, she barrels on, “I’m gonna level with you right now, Kallie. Frosty,” she says, pointing at Jackson, “and I are not the most personable of patient people. I’ve lost count of the vendors we’ve spoken to at this point, but you are the sixth flower shop today, and I’m hanging on by the thinnest icicle.”

“Totally get that. Weddings are a lot,” I say calmly.

“Even more so when you’re planning it around hockey practice and then the regular season, plus running a catering business that also happens to cater for said hockey team.” She says, giving Jackson a vicious side eye.

Jackson, in the meantime, has been standing next to his bride, stone-faced and silent. Until she mentions catering. Then he cracks a smile and wraps his arm around her.

“If it weren’t for your catering, we never would have met.”

When she looks up at him, and their eyes meet, I see the way they soften for each other. It’s such a tender moment, my heart clenches.

I hope that’s the way Evren and I look at each other, I absently think.

“That and Mistletoe Mischief Frost,” she says softly, smiling at him.

“Still a ridiculous name,” he says, leaning down to kiss her quickly before turning to me and extending a hand.

“I’m Jackson Frost, but please call me Jackson. Sorry for coming off so…” he searches for the word as we shake hands.

“Brutish,” she says, extending her hand as I release Jackson’s and laugh. “Grace Balentine. Nice to meet you. Mostly. No offense, but as I said, patience is not my strong suit.”

“Oh my god, you own Bite Me Baby! Your frosted cookies are like some sort of food crack. I could literally eat my weight in those babies and have zero regrets.” I word vomit before I remember I’m supposed to be in professional boss bitch mode.

Grace laughs and seems to relax a bit.

I shake my head and clasp my hands to my heart.

“Okay, so how about we skip all the tiny details and get to the meat and bones of things. Date, aesthetic, how elaborate, and budget.”

Jackson and Grace look at each other and smile before turning back to me.

“Winter, no fucking clue, define elaborate, and cost efficient.” Ticking each off on a finger.

“Budget is not an issue,” Jackson interjects.

I nod, thinking for a moment before proceeding.

“Winter is open, as long as it’s not Christmas Eve or Day.”

“Not a chance in hell. Christmas is its own sacred celebration,” Grace interrupts as Jackson groans and rolls his eyes.

”Watch it, Frosty,” Grace growls at her fiancé. He holds up his hands in mock surrender, but rolls his eyes at me once again when Grace turns her attention back to me.

“Ok, no Christmas. Winter is good. We can work on aesthetics and discuss budget later. As for elaborate, are we talking appetizer, seven-course meal, or buffet?”

When Grace smiles, her whole face lights up.

“I like her,” Grace says.

“Same,” Jackson replies.

“You’re hired,” they both say in unison, making us all laugh.

I grab my appointment book and schedule them for a consult in two weeks. This is an incredible opportunity that will bring even more attention to my little shop.