Forever Theirs (Mistress Book 3)
FOREVER THEIRS
ANNA STONE
© 2021 Anna Stone
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be replicated, reproduced, or redistributed in any form without the prior written consent of the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Cover by Kasmit Covers
Sign up for Anna’s newsletter and get an exclusive Mistress
series novella!
CONTENTS
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Epilogue
Also by Anna Stone
About the Author
C H A P T E R 1
“ W elcome to Blossom Flowers,” Chloe said. “How can I help you?”
“I need some flowers,” the customer replied brusquely.
He was dressed in an expensive-looking suit, and he had a clean, sharp haircut. Was he some kind of executive? He had the haughty manner of one. Chloe’s florist shop was in the middle of the city, right next to the business district, so customers like him came in often.
She mustered the warmest smile she could manage.
“You’ve come to the right place. Who are the flowers for?”
“My wife,” the man said. “It was her birthday yesterday.”
Chloe gave him a sympathetic nod. She dealt with these kinds of problems daily. It was the third forgotten birthday today, along with two forgotten anniversaries, and the shop had only been open for an hour.
“Do you know what sort of flowers she likes?” Chloe asked.
The man looked at her blankly. “I don’t know. Roses?
Don’t all women like roses?”
Chloe resisted the urge to roll her eyes, reminding herself just how badly she needed the customer’s business.
“Roses are popular, and for good reason. How about I make up a mixed arrangement with roses and some other
flowers? If you tell me a little about your wife, I can put together something she’ll love.”
In her experience, when it came to flowers, people were happier to receive something more personal than the usual dozen red roses. And with a little information about someone, Chloe could create a tailor-made bouquet to suit their tastes. That was the part of her job she liked the most.
And she was good at it.
Unfortunately, that wasn’t enough to keep her little florist shop in business.
“Look,” the man said. “I’m in a hurry. I don’t have time for this.”
“In that case, I have some ready-made bouquets.” Chloe pointed to a shelf by the counter. “They’re right beside you.”
The man stared at the arrangements for a moment before pointing to a bouquet of white roses. “I’ll take that.”
“Are you sure?” Chloe said. “Those—”
The man huffed. “I told you, I’m in a hurry.”
Chloe bit her tongue and grabbed the flowers, then began wrapping them up. What she’d tried to tell the customer was that it was a sympathy bouquet for illness or bereavement. Flowers had meanings. And although most people weren’t aware of those meanings, the way flowers looked and smelled, the different combinations and arrangements, all evoked certain moods and feelings. The bouquet the customer had chosen said, I’m sorry for your loss. It wasn’t going to do him any favors with his wife.
But Chloe needed all the business she could get. She couldn’t afford to lose a single customer.
She finished wrapping up the flowers and handed them to the man. He paid for the bouquet and hurried out of the store without another word, leaving Chloe alone in her shop.
She leaned down on the counter on her elbows and looked around the empty store. It was small and sun-filled,
every shelf overflowing with bouquets and bunches of flowers. She’d opened her shop after finishing floristry school five years ago, using what had been left of the windfall she’d received when she turned eighteen. It had been her dream to have her own florist shop for as long as she could remember.
But now, that dream was falling apart.
Her phone buzzed in the pocket of her apron. She pulled it out. The number on the screen belonged to one of her suppliers. She knew why they were calling her. She hadn’t paid her latest bill.
But she couldn’t afford to pay it right now, along with the bills of half her other suppliers. Her shop was in the red, and her personal financial situation was just as bad.
She’d barely been able to scrape together rent for the month, and her cat, Mango, was due for a trip to the vet.
Her truck, an ancient pickup that she mostly used to deliver flowers, was long overdue for servicing.
Plus, she had a certain personal debt to pay off. She was more afraid of missing those payments than the ones to her suppliers.
But she couldn’t just ignore her problems. Slipping into the back room, she answered the phone call. Sure enough, it was about an overdue bill. The woman on the other end of the line wasn’t happy when Chloe requested an extension, but after some groveling, she relented.
Chloe hung up the phone and let out a long breath. This would give her some wiggle room, but it wouldn’t last long.
She needed to figure something out, and soon.
Her stomach churned at the thought of losing her florist shop. She’d invested everything in it, and not only financially. Her shop had been a fresh start for her. It was a symbol of the fact that she’d finally overcome her past, that she’d become her own person for the first time in her life.
But sometimes, it felt like her past was always there, lurking just out of sight.
She sighed. She couldn’t hide out in the back room forever. She had plenty of work to do. She brushed the dust from her apron and tucked a stray wisp of her hair back into her ponytail. It was curly, unlike the rest of her hair.
For whatever reason, those little hairs that framed her face refused to straighten, no matter how hard she tried. Her curls were distinctive, as was their strawberry blonde coloring, which was why she’d dyed her hair a deep shade of brown. She didn’t like how much her natural hair made her look like her past self. That girl no longer existed.
As Chloe left the back room, she spotted movement at the side of the store, behind a display. There was a customer in the shop? She hadn’t heard anyone come in.
Suddenly, the customer stepped out from behind the display. Chloe’s heart skipped a beat. It was a woman, and a breathtaking one at that. She had wavy brown hair that cascaded down her back, all the way to her tailbone. She wore an impeccably tailored emerald-green dress in an Aline cut that enhanced her hourglass curves, along with shiny black heels. She looked entirely out of place in Chloe’s little florist shop, even more so than the usual suit-wearing businesspeople.
Chloe had seen the woman in the store before, a handful of times. Each time, the woman had bought one of the most expensive arrangements, making small talk with Chloe as she wrapped the bouquet up for her. And each time, Chloe had struggled to keep her cool.
The woman strode toward her, stopping in front of the counter. “I’d like to buy some flowers.” Her voice was clear and composed, with a silken smoothness that sent a quiver down Chloe’s neck.
“Sure,” Chloe said. “I have a range of ready-made arrangements. Or I could make you something custom if you’d like.” Clearly, the woman had money to burn, not to mention refined tastes. She didn’t seem like the type to balk at the price of a custom bouquet.
“I like the sound of that,” the woman said. “Make me something, then.”
Finally, a chance for Chloe to put her talents to use. But more than that, she wanted the chance to impress the mysterious woman, to create something beautiful for her.
And she wanted to keep the woman here, in her presence, for as long as she could.
“Do you have anything specific in mind?” Chloe asked.
“You’re the expert,” the woman replied. “What do you recommend?”
“It depends. What’s the bouquet for? Is it a specific occasion? Are you giving it to someone special?”
The woman’s lips curled up in a smile. “If you want to know if I’m single, all you have to do is ask.”
Chloe’s cheeks began to burn. “I mean, is it a gift for someone?”
The woman didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she reached out to touch some flowers that Chloe had arranged in a vase on the counter, caressing a carnati
on with delicate fingers, taking care not to damage the petals. Her hands were slender, her skin pale and soft. But the woman seemed anything but soft.
Finally, she spoke. “Let’s pretend, for a moment, that it is a gift for someone. Someone special. A woman.” The suggestiveness in her voice implied that the woman in question wasn’t just a friend. “What would you recommend?”
Chloe swallowed. “Well, that depends on what you want the flowers to say. When it comes to love, there are all different types. Romantic love? Affection? Eternal love?”
“‘Love’ is coming on a little too strong in this case. What if I want something that says less about love and more about attraction, desire?” Still stroking the flowers on the counter with her fingers, the woman locked her eyes on Chloe’s. “Something that says, ‘I want you.’”
Chloe’s pulse sped up, a spark going off inside her. She tried her best to smother it. “There aren’t any flowers that say exactly that, but purple roses could work. Roses symbolize love, but they have more nuanced meanings depending on the colors. Purple roses, they symbolize love at first sight, the allure of meeting someone and being completely enchanted by them, drawn to them in a way that defies all rational thought...” She trailed off. She was rambling. It was no wonder, given how enchanting the woman standing before her was.
“That’s exactly what I had in mind,” the woman said.
“Make me an arrangement with purple roses, then.”
“Coming right up,” Chloe said.
After getting a few more details from the woman, Chloe made a loop around the store, gathering handfuls of flowers and greenery for the arrangement. She took her time, selecting only the most pristine of flowers. She didn’t normally go through so much trouble for her customers, but something about this woman made Chloe want to impress her.
Was it the fact that her very presence seemed to take over the entire shop? Was it the insistent way the woman watched her, her red lips curving up slightly at the corners, her sultry brown eyes following Chloe’s every move? Was it the fact that Chloe found her mesmerizing?
Finally, Chloe selected a dozen purple roses and a handful of orange blossoms. Orange blossoms were her favorite flower. Like so many other flowers, they represented love. But more specifically, the small white blossoms symbolized eternal love, the kind that was everlasting and unconditional.
It wasn’t what the customer had asked for, but Chloe had made a habit of including the sweetly scented blossoms in bouquets for lovers. It was a wish, a charm, that the love they shared would last for eternity. It was a silly tradition of hers, from back when she’d been a hopeless romantic.
Nowadays, she knew better. Love was just like her flowers
—beautiful at full bloom, but short-lived. In the end, love always withered and died.
As Chloe returned to her counter and began putting the arrangement together, the woman spoke up again.
“For the record, the flowers aren’t actually a gift for someone.”
“They’re not?” Chloe asked.
“They’re for me, for my office. They really brighten up a space.”
“Oh.” Why was Chloe so relieved that the woman wasn’t planning to give the flowers to a lover? She was a complete stranger. A mysterious, commanding stranger who kept looking at Chloe in a way that made her feel hot all over.
“You seem pleasantly surprised to hear that.”
Chloe dropped her gaze to the flowers before her. Was her attraction to the woman so obvious? “It’s a little unusual, that’s all.” She continued assembling the bouquet, tying the bundle of flowers together with string. “I don’t get many customers who buy flowers just because they like them. I wish more people appreciated flowers as much as you do.”
“What do you mean?”
“Most customers just want a dozen cheap red roses or a generic get-well bouquet. It’s nice to know that something I make will be appreciated.”
“I’ll certainly appreciate these,” the woman said, her voice practically a purr.
Warmth rose to Chloe’s skin. There it was again, that look.
“And I imagine it’s hard to keep this shop running on cheap roses alone?” the woman asked.
Chloe nodded. That was exactly why her shop was struggling. No one wanted to pay for lovingly handmade bouquets anymore.
But how could the woman possibly know that?
She winced as it hit her. “You heard me on the phone, didn’t you?” The shop was small, and Chloe hadn’t exactly been quiet when speaking to her supplier. She held back a curse. The last thing she wanted was for her customers to know the store had money problems, especially this customer. The woman was so sophisticated and put together that Chloe doubted she’d ever had money problems in her life.
“I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but it was hard not to hear you. It’s a pity this lovely little shop is in trouble.”
“It’s not that bad, really.” Chloe grabbed her shears and began snipping the flowers’ stems down. “This shop is my entire life. I’m not going to let it get shut down.”
“Good for you.” The woman thought for a moment. “You know what? My company is hosting an event in a couple of weeks. We’re going to need decorations. I’d like you to make some floral arrangements for it.”
Chloe paused. The woman wanted to hire her ? She’d take any work she could get right now. Plus, it would give her an excuse to see more of the woman.
But she resisted the urge to say yes immediately. She needed to find out what she was getting into first.
“What’s the event?” she asked.
“It’s a charity gala,” the woman said. “It’s just a few hundred people.”
Chloe almost dropped her shears. A few hundred? She’d made flowers for events before, but they’d been much smaller. A gala with that many people would be a ton of work. It wasn’t like Chloe was drowning in work, but she’d never taken on such a big project. “What kinds of arrangements do you need?”
“Just the basics. Centerpieces for the tables, some larger decorative pieces.”
The woman rattled off a long list of requirements that were the opposite of basic. Chloe nodded along, trying her hardest not to let her rising panic show.
“Do you think you can handle that?” the woman asked.
“Sure, no problem.” That was a lie. Given the short time frame and the number of flowers involved, Chloe would need to work around the clock for the next two weeks.
But she could pull it off.
“You’ll be generously compensated for your time and materials,” the woman said. “Do you require a deposit?”
Chloe nodded. “Fifty percent. I’ll have to do the math on how much everything will cost.”
“Why don’t you work it out and call me when you’re ready?” The woman reached into her purse and fished out a business card and a pen, then scribbled a number on the back of the card before handing it to Chloe. “That’s my personal number. If you call the office, you’ll just get my assistant.”
Chloe stared at the handwritten number on the card, then turned it over to the printed side. It read Gabrielle Hall, Co-Founder and Chief Marketing Officer, Mistress Media.
Chloe’s eyes widened. Mistress Media was an international female-led media empire. The building their offices were in was just a few blocks away. And this woman was the CMO? That explained her expensive clothes, her perfect hair, the unshakable air of confidence she possessed.
“Forgive me,” the woman said. “I haven’t properly introduced myself. Gabrielle Hall. And you are?”
“Er, Chloe. Chloe Campbell.”
“Do we have a deal, Chloe ?”
A shiver rolled through her. The way Gabrielle said her name, it was as though she were whispering it into Chloe’s ear. “Yes.”
“Wonderful.” Gabrielle extended a hand for Chloe to shake. “I’m sure it’s going to be a real pleasure doing business with you.”
Chloe took Gabrielle’s hand. Gabrielle’s touch was gentle and unyielding at the same time. Even after she released Chloe’s hand, her skin tingled where Gabrielle had touched her.
Seconds passed before Chloe remembered herself.
Taking a length of silky white ribbon, she tied up the paper-wrapped bouquet. “All done.”
Gabrielle paid for the flowers with a black credit card.
Chloe handed the bouquet to her.
She admired them approvingly. “These are beautiful.”