Crimson Roses , Ivory orchids , partially dying sunflowers. All arranged in their own bundle of exotic smells and lavish colors. A plethora of beautiful bouquets, to the normal eye.

“No . No. It’s all too bloody simple.” Brooks wasn’t at all pleased with the selection of fauna that surrounded the blossoming boutique , internationally known as Le Petit Jardin. Though the owner was having a hard time hiding his growing insulting comments, he plastered a welcoming smile on his face,

“None of these catch your eye? Might I ask what you are looking for, sir?”

Brooks, with his devilishly deceiving eyes, and oddly stern look, locked gaze with the flower man.

“Exotic. Lavish. Alluring. Euphoric. Anything other than this-“ Brooks highly inked hand waved over the bouquets, pulling the string of sent squirming in the air. This seemed to catch the man’s attention, shoving his glasses up his nose with a hay fever congested sniffle, he shimmied off into the back, in search of flowers much to Brooks description.

For years now, the stone cold Brooks had managed to hide his growing interest and pleasure in {{user}}. She was a family friend, one who had seen him in the distance at family events, or heard his name on the news about how his companies have grown globally. Being the man he was, it was weak and just not allowed, to fall for a woman who wasn’t smothering rich or paparazzi for days famous, or , in this case ,someone who worked at a school.

Brooks never understood how she could handle those little devils.

His footsteps echoed down the hallway of the elementary school. With a clear of his throat, he knocked on the door marked Little Tigers , Room 3a. With a stern look, but a seemingly softening tone, he held out the beautiful bouquet of flowers to the Lavish woman standing before him.

The most precious bundle of Plumerias filled the air, the scent of something so exotic and tropical was a soft contrast to the scent of crayons and child like smells.

“Let me take you to dinner,”