Prompt by demisexualmerrill on tumblr, and some quality floral knowledge by koscheiis on tumblr. I don't own any of these characters (they are owned by ABC), and any places or other names associated in this story are purely coincidental.
Emma bustled around the small shop on Charles street, picking up scraps of ribbon from in between potted plants and grabbing the broom to sweep up behind the counter before she went to flip the worn wooden sign from closed to open on the front door. Emma had only been running "Boston Floral Designs" alone for about two months now, but even in that short time, she'd made some major changes, switching out the old sea foam colored tile from the 70's in favor of a matte wooden floor, knocking out a wall in the middle of the store to open up the space, and fully revamping the flower stands. She wasn't an interior designer, by any means, but even SHE knew the store hadn't seen a fresh coat of paint since 1979. As she finished tidying up, a middle-aged woman walked in wearing a business skirt and blazer, with the wind seemingly chasing HER, she was moving so quickly.
"Good morning," Emma called from behind the counter, "I'll be right with you."
"I just need to place an order before I get to work this morning," the woman called back, sounding rushed, but not rude. Emma stood up, retying her apron behind her back.
"I'm your gal for that, then," Emma said, summoning the woman to the counter. "What are you looking to order for? A birthday? Significant other?"
"A business client, actually," the woman responded. "I'm not sure exactly what I'm looking for - do you have any samples?"
"Definitely - there are a few in the display case behind me, or this binder will show you a more comprehensive list of all of our standard arrangements and prices," Emma said, pulling it out from behind the shelf and spinning it around to face the woman. "Feel free to flip through here, and if you have any questions or want to know what's in season, feel free to ask." The woman opened the binder and began looking through it.
"I did have a question, actually," the woman said, still looking at the pictures of arrangements. "This - did this shop used to be owned by someone different? I only ask because I was pretty sure I'd been here several years ago, and it's the same name, but it looks entirely different now - really good, now, actually - and I didn't know if it had new owners."
Emma didn't respond for a minute, pondering how much she wanted to say. "Yea, it uh, it used to be owned by an older couple, the Swans? But, uh, I own the place now. Glad to hear you like the updates," she finished.
"Yea, it's so much more inviting now from the street - I moved away, and when I came back, this was a pleasant surprise," said the woman, smiling. "I wonder what made that couple that used to be here want to sell - the place was a little out of date, but they were really nice people."
"They...they passed away a couple of months ago, actually," Emma said, a little awkwardly. "I just moved back to Boston, too. I'm their daughter."
"Oh my God, I'm so sorry," the woman said immediately. "I didn't mean to - I definitely didn't mean to pry into that, I was just curious - forget I asked at all. I'll, uh, I'll take this arrangement," she said, pointing at a middle sized bouquet.
"No, it's fine, really, just still adjusting around here without them," Emma sighed, moving to ring the woman up. "I redid the place when I took over. Mom and Dad were the best people I knew, but they weren't terribly in touch with the changing times," smirking a little to lighten the mood.
The woman laughed, relieved. "Still, I'm sure it's hard managing a store in the middle of grieving. My condolences, truly." A silence fell as Emma finished ringing the woman up.
"That'll be $56.53," Emma said. "Will you be paying with cash or card? And what's your billing address?"
"Card," she responded. "You can put my address as 108 Mifflin St., I guess, since I don't quite have an office space yet, and the address to send the flowers to is right here, it's to a Thomas Wilcox," she said, handing Emma a business card. Are you still open the same days you, uh, you used to be? I'll be making a lot of these purchases for work."
"Yup, 6 days a week, close early on Sundays," Emma responded. "Feel free to come in any time. Who do you work for?"
The woman laughed. "I work for me," she smiled. "Regina Mills, of MillsTrade. I like to send my clients flowers after our first deal or a big trade. Adds a personal touch, which is why our clients prefer to work with me instead of a massive corporation," she said, pride written across her face. "I recently relocated back to Boston for personal reasons, so I needed a new floral designer, and remembered this one from when I used to live close."
"Well, best of luck with your work, and glad you stopped back in. Hopefully you'll be pleased with what we come up with, and decide to come back," Emma said amiably. "That arrangement will be delivered by Thursday, by the way."
"I'll be back, I'm sure!" Regina called, already halfway out the door. As Emma watched her get into her Mercedes Benz parallel parked outside the store, she couldn't help but feel like she'd just been blown over with tropical storm winds.
Little did she know, Emma would in fact see Regina soon. The broker came back on Thursday and Friday to place two separate orders. One week became two, and soon, Regina was becoming Emma's most regular customer. Emma began to look forward to the woman's trips to the store, bringing with her ridiculous stories about her clients or boyfriend, whom Emma learned was the biggest reason Regina had decided to relocate her business. Regina was always interested in the store, and how Emma was getting along. One Wednesday, Regina came in so many times that finally, Emma handed Regina her personal phone number scribbled on a sticky note, telling Regina to save some gas, call ahead, and Emma would put it on her bill. Regina wasn't the only Bostonite ordering flowers, however. Emma's parents couldn't understand why newspaper advertisements weren't brining in as much business as they used to, but Emma began utilizing online advertising and sent coupons out to their loyal customers for the upcoming holiday. Business had picked up, and Emma was beginning to make a dent in the debt her parents had inadvertently left her to deal with. Emma also found that she was beginning to enjoy the whole process - flowers weren't exactly her ideal life's work, but she had a knack for what looked good together and flourished in the business and marketing side of things in a way her parents never had. She'd gotten business from some big names in Boston, and was personable when men walked in without a clue as to what flowers they should buy their girlfriends.
One guy named Robin walked in on a Monday morning and seemed determined to pick every single flower in the bouquet he wanted to buy his girlfriend. "It just needs to be perfect, you know? Marion, she's perfect, and her birthday's coming up, and I don't want to mess up and buy her the wrong thing." Emma rolled her eyes subtly, but smirked - it was pretty easy to convince these guys to spend a little more, and she'd always laughed a little at people who thought romance was the ultimate meaning of life. Emma had been in a few relationships in the past, but nothing so revolutionary she'd felt the need to continue past a couple months of fun.
"I'm sure we can find something for you," she laughed. "What are her - Marion's? - favorite colors?"
"Purple, I think, and maybe yellow," Robin immediately responded.
"Well, if you want to be extra romantic, Heather is purple, and it symbolizes admiration, we could add in some purple violets and yellow dandelions for faithfulness, and finish it off with some yellow zinnias, which essentially mean you're thinking about her all the time," Emma grinned.
"Wow, really? That sounds perfect! I didn't know flowers actually meant anything," Robin said, relieved.
"They don't have to," Emma said, "But old fashioned romantics say flowers were used for communication in a lot of different circumstances, especially romantic intentions, and most women I know appreciate the extra gesture." Robin whistled happily as he left the store, making Emma shake her head once again, smiling.
Even though Regina didn't seem to walk anywhere (only power walk or run), she started to linger a little longer in Emma's shop when she DID decide to come in (Emma had started to get texts at 8 o'clock at night asking for a bouquet to be delivered to such and such address on Friday, but Regina still sometimes wanted to come in to see what was in stock for last minute orders, or get Emma's opinion on colors. Regina probably could've taken care of those things via text, too, but found more and more that she was actually looking forward to seeing the blonde when the need for flowers arose). Emma even knew which clients were Regina's favorite, after an incident in which Regina had texted Emma to request an arrangement, but told her not to do anything too nice - the client had kind of been a jerk when he met with Regina. Emma laughed, and texted back that she'd throw in some wilty geraniums, free of charge. Regina texted back, confused, and Emma responded with a google link. Regina laughed out loud - the client HAD embodied stupidity and folly. Regina was amused by the idea, and it had since become an inside joke for Regina to request an arrangement, heavy on the geraniums.
Emma gathered that Regina didn't have a ton of friends in Boston since she was new to town, and in the small percentage of time that she wasn't working herself to death over her job, she spent with her boyfriend. Emma hadn't asked what his name was, and Regina hadn't been inclined to give it to her, but she seemed to genuinely think he was worth any difficulty the move had given her - she didn't talk about him the way some of the guys who came into the shop talked about their partners, giddy and flushed. When Regina spoke about her boyfriend, she got quieter, and the swirling wind seemed to die down around her a little. Emma didn't think she'd ever felt love like the kind she read in Regina's eyes.
One morning Regina had come into the store, and mentioned to Emma that she was, in fact, taking the day off of work.
"A little ironic, don't you think, since you're in here ordering for a client?" Emma smirked, teasing.
"Okay, when I say a day off of work, I mean I don't have any meetings, Emma," Regina rolled her eyes exaggeratedly. "Obviously, I can't just not do any work, that would be business suicide."
"Would it?" Emma asked, laughing again. "I don't think you'd know what to do with yourself if you ever took a day off, and I'm beginning to think you're not fully human. I mean, I've never seen you sit still for longer than fifteen minutes at a time. Do you plug in at night instead of sleep, or...?"
Regina huffed, ignoring Emma's insinuation that she might be a robot. "That's completely untrue, I do non-work stuff all the time," she said indignantly.
"Really. Name one thing in the last month."
"I-"
"That was by yourself, not with your man."
"I, um-" Regina thought for about twenty seconds. "I went to the grocery store a week ago by myself."
"Oh, a social butterfly inDEED," Emma drawled. "When was the last time you watched a TV show?" Before Regina could respond, she added, "NOT the weather or the news." Regina closed her mouth.
"C'mon, just take today off. Do something you want to do that's not work related. Anything. What have you wanted to go see in Boston since you've been here?" Emma asked. Regina thought for a minute.
"I mean, I haven't really had a lot of time to think..." she trailed off. "Wait - well, several times when I've walked in here, I walk past that - I don't know what it's called - some South African food place a couple doors down? It always looks good through the window, but I never have time to stop."
"Then you should go! And I can attest to the fact that it is, in fact, really delicious food. It'll be worth the time you're not calling clients," Emma grinned.
"You should - I - uh, would you like to join me?" Regina asked, hesitantly. She wasn't really sure if she should, since really the only interaction they'd had was in the Boston Floral storefront, but Emma was maybe the closest thing she had to any semblance of a friend since she'd moved back to the city.
"Really?" Emma responded. "Um, yea, I'd love to - lemme just put the "Be back at 1:00" sign on the door and I'll be ready."
Regina actually had a whole different demeanor when she wasn't in work mode. She was still kind and pleasant, but much more relaxed. Emma thought she laughed a little louder, too. They enjoyed a delicious lunch, and to Emma's surprise, actually stayed a whole forty-five minutes after they'd put their forks down, as though maybe Regina really had forgotten about the clock. In reality, Regina had noticed the time, but decided that maybe Emma was right, and she was enjoying herself so much she didn't want to leave quite yet.
"See, now that wasn't so bad," Emma teased when they finally got up to leave.
"I'll admit, maybe there are some redeeming qualities to taking a break once in a while," Regina acquiesced. "Thank you for coming to lunch with me."
"Pleasure was all mine - it's not often I have lunch with someone else, either, to be honest," Emma said. "I'll have to take you to some of Boston's other finest diners when you decide you've earned another lunch break - so, ya know, maybe in a month or so," she grinned.
Regina laughed. "I promise it'll be sooner than that," she said, turning toward her car.
And Emma walked back the opposite way to the flower shop, unable to keep her grin from stretching wider on her face.
A/N: Thanks so much for reading! Would appreciate any and all feedback. I usually wait until I'm finished with a story completely to post in chapters, but it feels like the SwanQueen fandom is starting to die off a little bit, and I wanted to get this out there before you all disappear completely!
