Nora's POV
"Was that Shawn Mendes?" Shelby runs up the steps to meet me at the counter as soon as Shawn leaves.
"I think so." I'm a little in shock to be honest.
"Well, who did he buy the flowers for? Did he pay with a credit card? How did he smell?" She asks me a million questions quickly.
"Slow down Shelby." I put my hands out as if I can stop her words. "He said the flowers were for his mom. She must be in town with him." I shrug picking up some dried leaves that had fallen on the counter and throw them in the trash. I can't believe Shawn Mendes was here, in my flower shop.
"I heard he's just been bouncing around after he stopped making music, and even more when he got divorced. He must be in the city for a little bit." She shrugs.
"How did he smell? Did you really ask me that?" I squint in her general direction and laugh just a little bit.
"Yeah! He looks like he smells just like a manly-man. That perfect jaw line, his brown hair, he just has that sculpted face. He's gorgeous." She looks like she's off in a distant land, she must be dreaming of Shawn. I remember when he stopped making music, and how she was devastated. Almost like she was in a relationship with him and then suddenly not, it was quite a dramatic time in her life.
"You are so weird." I widen my eyes a little bit and walk past her.
"So did he pay with a credit card? What did it look like?" She catches up with me and continues to talk.
"Jesus Shelby. No he paid with cash. Why does it matter?" I ask as I reach the bottom of the steps. There are drawings strewn all over the table, flower tape, ribbon, parts of stems, flower petals all over, its an unorganized nightmare for some. It's like home for me.
"I don't know, I just wanted to know. He's the most mysterious out of all of the musicians I stan, so anytime you can get any information on them." She shrugs and walks over to her stool.
"He was just really nice." I sit down across from her and pull my pad of paper over, designing the bouquet of flowers for the bride we have coming in shortly. He actually was really nice. I didn't expect to see him at my flower shop ever but was quite surprised at his sweetness. Everyone always depicted him as the vain one, or the mysterious one. I had always just assumed that he didn't want anyone to know too much about him, to have a private life.
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My day was long but I always couldn't wait to get home. I grabbed a few flower stems that we're probably on their last leg and took them with me, my Nonna always likes flowers. I turn all the lights off and lock the door, pushing on it a few times to make sure that it's securely locked before I find my other key that allows the metal gate to come down over the windows and door. It's such a process but in fifty some odd years that this place has been around it's never been broken into yet.
I'm thankful for the warm weather, because I always hate walking to the train when it's cold or snowing. I work such long hours that the sun is already setting. The shop is open until six, and I usually stay until seven to make sure everything is in order, count and lock up the money, clean the scraps from the table, put extra water in the cut flower bins, and make a list of orders that need to be completed and delivered in the morning.
I love flowers.
The only thing I don't love about them is stripping the rose thorns. I usually wear gloves for that job but sometimes I forget, they can make a mess of your hands if you let them.
I walk down the steps to the station carefully. I've been known to trip a few times down them and it's always a little embarrassing. I take my seat on my usual train, I always sit in the same section of train, the third car. My Nonno's favorite number was three, he always used to take the third car. I usually do it just to think of him. I miss him everyday.
