Page 1 of Island Whispers
Chapter 1
Nina Billings stepped into the quiet darkness of the back room at Island Bloomers and waited for the happiness to start flowing.
It didn’t.
She flipped on the lights and urged herself to get it together. Her eyes were gritty and her neck was tight from tossing and turning all night long. Good thing her commute was short—only a quick descent from her apartment over the shop.
She locked the door behind her and trudged forward into the design room. Dragging like this, feeling as if she’d rather be anywhere but here was highly unusual. Being raised by parents in the landscaping and nursery business, she’d been around plants and flowers all her life.
Work was her safe space, her happy place.
And she’d put in the years of blood, sweat, and tears, along with education, effort, and training to have her own shop—a successful shop—before turning thirty. Island Bloomers was her pride and joy. Having a prime location on Central Ave, specifically on the main square of Brookwell Island, was a privilege she was committed to.
So it was past time to focus.
Yes, it was early, especially after a restless night. Too bad. None of her days resembled a normal nine to five. That was part of the magic of being a florist. She usually loved coming in and designing for a couple of hours before the shop opened to the public.
While she pulled on her apron and gathered her tools, she put the phone on speaker and checked the messages for any additional orders. No surprise that two more local families had heard about the funeral service in Charleston today and requested deliveries.
She made notes, pulled buckets of greenery and flowers from the cooler for stock, and got to it. Two arrangements and one plant basket were headed to the funeral.
That would make delivery easier.
Sniffling as she snipped stems and framed up the floral pieces, it took her a moment to realize she was on the verge of tears. She stepped back to blow her nose and dab at her eyes. Despite the nature of the arrangements, funeral flowers rarely made her cry. In part, because she considered flowers a special gift to honor a friend or loved one.
And also because a flower shop was typically a cash-poor business. Dealing with perishables meant higher than usual lost product and waste. Funerals offered a welcome and unexpected influx of cash.
Having worked in flower shops that barely made payroll from week to week, Nina had carved out a different business model. Failing at her dream wasn’t an option. Although she always had the safety net of returning to the family business, she was determined to stand on her own.
To offset the typical flower shop pitfalls and the risks of being in a smaller market, Nina had set up contracts with other business owners on the island. Most of her clients were bed and breakfast owners, but she’d added a couple of local restaurants too.
In addition to a steady income, the contracts gave her a consistent design task list for her employees and allowed her to streamline supply orders to maximize the profit margins.
Haley Whitman, one of her closest friends from design school, joked that Nina was a mercenary and the enemy of creativity. And yet she visited Nina at least once a year, filled in when necessary, and usually spent part of her vacation in the Island Bloomers workroom, playing with ideas for the “boring” contracts.
Nina smiled to herself even as a tear rolled down her cheek.
What on earth was the matter with her today?
Shaking it off, she redoubled her efforts to focus on the flowers—and only the flowers. These arrangements had to be delivered in a few hours. As her hands worked, her mind wandered along the business and marketing path.
It would be nice to have the full contract at the Inn, the island’s biggest non-beach destination. Someday, she mused. She didn’t have staff to support that kind of order right now. Instead, she negotiated for conference room arrangements on an as-needed basis. Being smaller and local, she could respond faster than their contracted florist in Charleston. And she liked to believe it helped to have an Island Bloomers flier in the welcome packet given to each guest at check-in.
She continued snipping stems and placing flowers for the funeral pieces, grateful she had worked ahead yesterday afternoon on today’s normal deliveries. Fresh vases were ready for the Pelican Pub and Hargrave Hideaway, the newest B&B on the island and the only one with a private cove.
The Hargrave sisters had become good friends with Nina in recent months and their business was starting to pick up. More importantly, it seemed as if the sisters were finally recovering from the loss of their mother.
Of course, that brought tears to her eyes again. What those three had been through was just too much. Nina didn’t want to think about the day when her mom wasn’t around to take her call or text, or spread a little guilt when she missed a Sunday dinner.
Ugh! It was so unlike her to be weepy about anything. And never at work. She prided herself on her kind, friendly, and professional approach. She’d built a strong reputation on her ability to connect with her customers, to find the right thing when they didn’t know exactly what they were looking for.
She hadn’t known the person being memorialized, but she knew the customers who had called her and she wasn’t about to let them down. Sorting out the cause of the waterworks would have to wait until later.
Changing up the music to hard rock and cranking the volume, she pushed her mushy feelings to the back of her mind and finished the pieces. By the time her assistant Molly Trumble arrived, Nina had the funeral service orders wrapped for delivery and was starting on the rest of the day’s orders.
“Good morning,” Molly said, turning down the volume. “You okay?”
“I’m great,” Nina fibbed. “These three pieces need to go to Charleston if you’ve got the shop.”