The Ways in Which I Die (COMPLETED)

Chapter 1: "A SMILE WOULD BE NICE"

SUMMER

Summer ignores the small jingle of the bell above the door as some customer pushes their way into the small flower shop she's been stuck working at for the past three years. The first few months at the job had been fun and the flowers had been pretty, now they're just annoying and she's ready for something new. Something without a bunch flower snobs telling her everything she says is wrong.

"Summer! See if they need anything will you!" Steven shouts from the back of the shop. She wishes she could take over doing inventory for him so she doesn't have to talk to customers. He's better at that sort of thing.

Instead of requesting the switch she just lets out a quiet groan of protest and leaves her safe customer free zone behind the checkout counter and goes out into the maze of noxiously colorful flowers to find the customer who had just come in. She finds him rocking on his heels quietly humming to himself while looking over the various selections of lilies.

"Can I help you?" Summer asks trying not to sound deadpan.

The man tosses her a glance before turning his gaze back to the flowers. "I'm just looking around."

"Let me know if you need anything."

"A smile would be nice," the man says turning to look at her again.

Summer glares.

"I'm kidding," he laughs. "I'm sure you have a very good reason to be unhappy."

"Hmmm," Summer grunts.

"You have an excellent glare by the way," he comments. "A plus for intimidation, but I gotta warn you, you might light all the flowers on fire with it."

Summer rolls her eyes. "Is there actually anything you need?"

"No, like I said just looking around," he says with the slightest bit of a smile still on his handsome face.

"Let me know if you need anything other than a smile," Summer says sarcastically.

"I'll be sure too," he replies as she turns and heads back to her place at the register.

There was something oddly charming about him that almost made her like him, but she's still relieved that he let her escape back to the counter, and strangely enough even more glad that she probably won't have to talk to him again. People who come in to look around never end up buying anything.

"Did he need anything?" Steven asks coming down from the little loft with a stack of clay pots in his hands.

"No, he was just looking around."

"Did you offer him any of the specials we have right now?" Steven demands sounding more annoyed than he usually does.

"No, he's perfectly capable of reading signs all on his own."

"You are a horrible salesperson," Steven says with a sigh.

"And yet you hired me."

"You were the only one who applied who wasn't high on weed."

"Right, so quit complaining."

"Fine, I'll go talk to the customer. You go stack the pots," Steven grumbles and disappears into the shelves of flowers.

Summer takes the pots to their proper corner and begins stacking them. She turns around to go back to the loft to get more and almost walks straight into the man she'd just been talking with. She jumps a little and step back just a little too far and knocks one of the small pots off the shelf. She cringes as the small red pot smashes to the hard ground and shatters.