Hannah tsks. “Yes, okay. But not this guy. Your bad attitude is going to drain the power out of your work—no wonder that first boutonniere didn’t take. It’s a good thing I worked with him on his second one. In fact, I should reconsider even letting you work on wedding arrangements.”

“Hannah! You wouldn’t.”

“Your attitude is important, CJ. It flows into your work. It’s part of the magic.”

It occurs to me that except for the magic part, Hannah sounds just like Mom right now, and I can’t suppress a grin.

“You’re laughing at me, but it’s true. Be like Richard, sweet pea. Resilience. Optimism.”

“I’m not laughing at you. It’s just that you kind of reminded me of Mom just now.” I wag my finger at her. “Attitude. Resilience. Optimism.”

It’s Hannah’s turn to roll her eyes. “Do not mention your mother to me, and do not compare us. We are not the same at all.”

We walk back to our tables in the workroom, where Hannah picks up a hydrangea and scowls at it.

“Attitude, Hannah,” I caution her slyly. “Don’t let it ruin the wedding.”

Hannah says nothing, just measures out a length of ribbon, snips it off the wheel, and starts wrapping the bouquet. She secures the ribbon with a pin (without threatening to stab it this time) and holds it out at arm’s length, admiring her handiwork. “You know what, CJ? You’re right. There’s no use sitting here complaining about this awful bride—or your mom, for that matter.” She sets her work down and turns to me. “We are not going down without a fight, CJ. This place has always been about creating beauty and magic and bringing people together, and we are not going to let the McAllisters”—she practically spits the name out of her mouth—“trash everything our family stands for. We have to figure out a plan. We can’t let history repeat itself.”

“It is pouring out there.” Emily enters and shakes rain out of her hair, adding, “What plan? What history?”

Hannah and I exchange glances. Mom said not to tell anyone.

Emily pounces on our hesitation. “What is it? But actually, before you tell me, I know we were supposed to hang tonight, but apparently Juliana’s in, like, active labor.”

“Oh my god!” I say.

“I know!” she responds. “So my mom said I could go over.”

Juliana and Ceci are Em’s across-the-street neighbors, and they have one adorable little girl named Isabella, and one soon-to-be adorable little baby boy whose name they haven’t told us. Em agreed long ago to babysit Isabella when Juliana went into labor so that Ceci could focus on helping her wife give birth.

“These are to make up for bailing on you.” Em plunks a bag of bakery treats on the counter.