Panzina's Passion

By Teresa D. Patterson

Inexperienced, sweet, flower boutique owner, Panzina Wilson thinks she has nothing in common with snobbish, arrogant fashion designer, Trevor Grant. For her it’s a case of dislike at first sight the day he enters her shop.

Tragedy throws the two of them together. Trevor helps Panzina through a time of grief and uncertainty and saves her flower boutique from foreclosure...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Teresa D. Patterson
• Release date: Nov 14, 2010
• ISBN: 9781465871480

Teresa D. Patterson

Teresa D. Patterson came onto the literary scene with her debut novel, Project Queen, which was published by a small independent publishing company. It wasn't long before she realized having complete control over the creation and distribution of her books suited her better, compelling her to publish her own future works.Her first independent published novel was Ex-boyfriend. She went on to write several novels in multiple genres, which includes contemporary fiction, erotica, inspirational fiction, juvenile fiction, romance, and urban lit. She has written twenty-eight novels and co-authored one.

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Panzina’s Passion

Teresa D. Patterson

Copyright 2010 by Teresa D. Patterson

Published by Edit Again Publications at Smashwords

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means including electronic, mechanical or photocopying or stored in a retrieval system without permission in writing from the publisher except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages to be included in a review.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, placed and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

CHAPTER ONE

Working alone in the downtown flower boutique, Panzina Wilson straightened the skewed displays before getting ready to close up. She attentively arranged assortments of colorful carnations, fragrant roses, and delicate lilies while attaching sales tags on the bins that held them. When the single bell on the glass door of L’Fragrance chimed, signaling the arrival of a customer, she had her back turned, deeply engrossed in her work.

The man entered with heavy steps. She missed the admiration in his expression as his eyes took in her petite frame and mistook his stare for one of want and lust. Self-consciously, she tugged at the hem of her dress, a very colorful and full-length sundress that caressed the contours of her body. She normally loved wearing the dress because it made her feel as feminine and soft as the flowers that filled her shop, but this man made her feel as if the delicate fabric were nothing more than strategically-placed petals on bare skin. And the pair of yellow, open-toed sandals that revealed her toenails painted midnight blue was no longer a comfortable classic. Her feet felt as naked as the rest of her body, as if she were standing barefoot in a moonlit garden with her toes sinking into thick grass. As he stared into her almond shaped eyes a very intense feeling of attraction and embarrassment momentarily overwhelmed her. Not caring to analyze the feeling, she quickly dismissed it.

May I speak to the person in charge? he said in a manner that seemed to expect immediate obedience.

The pleasant smile on Panzina’s face wavered as she noticed his look of obvious displeasure. She closed the distance between them in an instant. She had a great deal of experience dealing with irate customers, and had found that being professional and polite at all times was the best method. Kill’em with kindness, as the old retail saying went.

May I help you, Sir? she inquired.

Annoyance flashed across his too-handsome features as his hazel eyes slanted.

Yes, you can. You can get me the owner, he repeated, tight-lipped.

Once again, his gaze swept over her, then settled on her face with feigned disinterest. For some reason, the fact that he’d apparently deemed her unimportant irritated Panzina. What if she was the owner? She bristled inside, and then decided to inform him of that very fact.

I am the owner, she retorted. Is there a problem?

His bright eyes widened, which did not go undetected by Panzina. Though he seemed to recover quickly, Panzina had already picked up on his disbelief. She hoped he hadn’t missed the spark in her own eyes before he began his charade.

Yes, there is a problem. You screwed up a wedding order, and I want an explanation.

Maybe, if you start from the beginning, Mr. er- She paused, giving him time to volunteer his name.

His tone laced with flippancy, he said, Grant. Trevor Grant.

Now it was her turn to be surprised, but she hid it well behind her professional mask.

That explains why he’s so obnoxious, Panzina thought. He was the Trevor Grant, the very prominent fashion designer in the city. She could understand why he would be frustrated with even the smallest details as most designers lived and died by the details of their work. What she couldn’t understand was why he’d come down to the shop himself? Didn’t he have hired help for taking care of the mundane things in life?

Panzina’s face was purposefully unreadable as she took in his immaculate appearance. His low cut hairstyle made his features more defined. Baby-doll lashes framed hazel eyes. Panzina didn’t dare let her gaze drop to scrutinize the rest of him but the thought did cross her mind. Her cheeks turned hot as a carnation blush spread over her face.

Well? His hard voice snapped her attention back to the present situation.

Oh! Excuse me. She walked past him to get behind the counter, and a display of roses made it quite difficult. Her face flamed as she brushed against him, feeling the hardness of his thigh muscles. Having squeezed all of her inventory in such a small space made it impossible to not to touch him as she passed. Panzina made a great effort to compete with the larger florists in the city. To do this, she had to keep a large assortment of flowers on hand at all times. Whether or not she had the room for all her blooms was a different story.

Amid the many coolers of buds and shelves of vases, she’d managed to squeeze in a tiny desk that held her cash register. Below it, she stored her files and current orders. If his wedding occurred in the last six months, she would have a record of it.

I’ll find the problem, Mr. Grant, and correct it, she managed to say, rather breathlessly.

That’s great, but it’s a bit too late. The wedding was over two hours ago. He stood there fuming with his arms crossed, which only infuriated her more. His rigid countenance made it difficult for her to remain calm and professional.

Panzina busied herself with finding the purchase order anyway, ignoring his sarcasm. Locating it, she quickly scanned the receipt. She was flustered, even though she couldn’t imagine making a mistake with his order. She prided herself on getting things done right the first time. Though she had prepared his order, she hadn’t been the one to fill out the form. One of temporary employees she’d hired could have made an initial error on the slip.

Trevor Grant was the last person on earth that she had expected to show up at L’Fragrance in person. He was the most talked about eligible bachelor in the city, so his wedding was sure to have been the event of the season. If she had wanted to make a good impression, it was too late for that now. He probably thought the worst of her. As for her opinion of him, well, she wasn’t sure that she even liked the man. A celebrity’s image was always greater than the actual person. She frowned as she looked at the paper in her hands.

What exactly was the problem, Mr. Grant? Wasn’t your order delivered on time? She asked, daring to gaze at him. She dropped her eyes quickly when she met his cold stare.

Time wasn’t the problem. The condition of those flowers was an embarrassment!

That’s impossible! she said sharply. Then remembering her surroundings, she regained her composure. She recalled another retail saying, The customer is always right, no matter what. She really wanted to give Mr. Grant a piece of her mind, but restrained herself. In a calm, controlled voice, she stated, I personally saw to your order. She swallowed down her anger and continued. I would never have allowed damaged merchandise to go out, especially not to such an important occasion. If there was damage done during delivery, you could have called, Mr. Grant, she said. She sighed exasperatedly. We can; however, work out an agreement and replacemen-

That won’t be necessary, he said, his tone laced with rudeness. I have no need for twenty-five dozen flowers!

Panzina fought hard to remain in control of her temper. This was the most arrogant brute of a man she’d ever encountered, but she refused to let herself be intimidated by him. Never had any of her customers been so irate and unreasonable. Well, she could be unreasonable as well and Mr. Grant was about to experience it if he kept pushing her buttons.

Then why the visit Mr. Grant? she asked, teeth clenched.

I just wanted to see who was in charge of this…this business, he said. They should never have hired a child to do an adult’s job! With that final, stinging comment, he stalked from the flower boutique. The bells over the door seemed to jangle in anger as he exited.

* * *

The nerve of that man! Panzina fumed as she hurried to close up the boutique for the evening. When she’d put up the Closed sign moments after he left, she’d seen Mr. Grant get into a black Mercedes Benz. He had pulled away from the curb with a squeal of tires. He had taken off so fast the bell above the door was still tinkling.

Smelling the stench of burnt rubber, she wiggled her nose distastefully. As she locked the door of the boutique, she silently thanked God that Mr. Grant had been her last customer of the day. He had left her in such a frenzy she couldn’t think straight. She wanted to go home and wilt away like last week’s flowers.

Doesn’t he have better things to do with his time, like design some clothes or something? she thought as she climbed into her vehicle.

She let out a relieved sigh when her 1994 Ford Escort started on the third try. The last thing she needed was for the car to quit on her. She had to pick up TJ from the daycare center and then stop by the nursing home. She would have to rush because she now had less than an hour to visit with her aunt.

Panzina clicked on the radio, which was preset to a jazz station. At least that was in good working condition. As she hummed to the sultry sounds of Anita Baker, she forgot about her heated visit from Trevor Grant. Her thoughts turned to TJ instead.

Thinking about TJ brought a smile of joy to her face, yet she was also saddened. TJ’s father, Telvin, had acted differently the last time they’d spoken. He had been in college for a little less than a month and already his attitude had changed. Panzina felt sure that her fiancé would drift away from her, and she didn’t have a clue as to how to hang on to him now that he was a college man.

She wasn’t even sure how she felt about Telvin these days. When he’d suddenly told her that he was going away to college, it had come as a shock. Even though some time had passed, it still brought forth pain as Panzina remembered the conversation they’d had.

Panzina and Telvin sat in the living room watching a movie of interest to neither of them. Whatever was on television was all right with them as long as they had each other. They would just snuggle up and talk about whatever topic the program spurred. It was their usual routine, but this time Telvin was unusually quiet. He hadn’t laughed at a single joke. Panzina had picked up on the vibes almost immediately and knew that something was bothering him. She’d grown tired of him fidgeting around. He had rewound the movie several times before she finally took the remote control. He never rewound a movie. Telvin wasn’t the type to care much about the words of a film. He just liked the action. This was a change in him.

Tell me, she said, folding her arms across