Nora's POV

“Was that Zayn Malik?” Shelby runs up the steps to meet me at the counter as soon as Zayn leaves.

“I think so.” I'm a little in shock to be honest.

“Well, who did he buy the flowers for? Did he pay with a credit card? How did he smell?” She asks me a million questions quickly.

“Slow down Shelby.” I put my hands out as if I can stop her words. “He said the flowers were for his mom. She must be in town with him.” I shrug picking up some dried leaves that had fallen on the counter and throw them in the trash. I can't believe Zayn Malik was here, in my flower shop.

“I heard he's just been bouncing around after the band broke up, and even more when he got divorced. He must be in the city for a little bit.” She shrugs.

“How did he smell? Did you really ask me that?” I squint in her general direction and laugh just a little bit.

“Yeah! He looks like he smells just like a manly-man. That perfect jaw line, his jet black hair, he just has that sculpted face. He's gorgeous.” She looks like she's off in a distant land, she must be dreaming of Zayn. I do remember when the band broke up she was devastated. Almost like she was in a relationship with all of them and then suddenly not, it was quite a dramatic time in her life.

“You are so weird.” I widen my eyes a little bit and walk past her.

“So did he pay with a credit card? What did it look like?” She catches up with me and continues to talk.

“Jesus Shelby. No he paid with cash. Why does it matter?” I ask as I reach the bottom of the steps. Drawling strewn all over the table, flower tape, ribbon, parts of stems, flower petals all over, its an unorganized nightmare for some. Home for me.

“I don't know, I just wanted to know. He's the most mysterious out of all of them so anytime you can get any information on them.” She shrugs and walks over to her stool.

“He was just really nice.” I sit down across from her and pull my pad of paper over, designing the bouquet of flowers for the bride we have coming in shortly. He actually was really nice. I didn't expect to see him at my flower shop ever but was quite surprised at his sweetness. Everyone always depicted him as the vain one, the mysterious one, I had always just assumed that he didn't want anyone to know too much about him, to have a private life.

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My day was long but I always couldn't wait to get home. I grabbed a few flower stems that we're probably on their last leg and took them with me, my Nonna always likes flowers. I turn all the lights off and lock the door, pushing on it a few times to make sure that it's securely locked before I find my other key that allows the metal gate to come down over the windows and door. It's such a process but in fifty some odd years that this place has been around it's never been broken into yet.

I'm thankful for the warm weather, I always hate walking to the train when it's cold or snowing. But I work such long hours that the sun is already setting. The shop is open until six, I usually stay until seven to make sure everything is in order, count and lock up the money, clean the scraps from the table, put extra water in the cut flower bins, and make a list of orders that need to be completed and delivered in the morning.

I love flowers.

The only thing I don't love about them is stripping the rose thorns. I usually wear gloves for that job but sometimes I forget, they can make a mess of your hands if you let them.

I walk down the steps to the station carefully, I've been known to trip a few times down them and it's always a little embarrassing. I take my seat on my usual train, I always sit in the same section of train, the third car, my Nonno's favorite number was three, he always used to take the third car. I usually do it just to think of him. I miss him everyday.

I miss my book. I think I left it on the train one day, I don't remember when or how I even left it, but it's technically not even mine to read, it was my Nonna's, a gift from my Nonno when they ran away together to America. Such a love story. They met, married, and ran away to the States within a matter of two months. Stayed together for forty-four years. Working together, living together, seeing each other everyday. The only time they spent apart was when my uncle and my mom were born because my Nonna stayed in the hospital and Nonno ran the business.

The conductor calls out my stop and I stand by the door, waiting to get home. I live just a few blocks from West 14th, my grandparents own the building. Things were a little cheaper in the 1970's. We live on the top floor, access to the roof that way, to families live below us, one on the first floor, one on the second. The basement is used for storage. Just me, Nonna, and my mom. And Albert, my fat cat. He occasionally makes his way to the roof but doesn't do much when he's there, just lounges in the sun. Or you can find him enjoying the death rays from the windows all day.

I unlock the door, mom is working, she's a nurse, she's always worked the three-three shift. Three p.m. To 3 a.m. I don't see her when she's working. She does the twelve hour shifts so she only has to work three days a week but she's usually always picking up extra shifts to help out. I was born when she had just turned 21, she was still at school so Nonna brought me to the flower shop. They saved on daycare because I just played there. Nonno built me a little area in the corner, filling it with toys, mom would come get me when she was done with school. And when mom graduated and started working it was just Nonna and Nonno and me. When I was old enough to attend school I went just a few blocks from the flower shop. So my life has revolved around the shop, it's my life.

“Ciao Nonna.” I see my grandma sitting in the chair, watching her favorite show, Wheel of Fortune.

“Hi mia luce.” She smiles at me as Albert comes running, instantly rubbing his body against my legs. He's an all black cat, I got him at the shelter originally for Nonna when my grandpa died but she's never really cared for cats so he became mine. “How was the shop today?” She still likes to come in and help out, it's just harder for her to move around now so her visits are becoming few and farther between.

“It was good.” I pick up Albert and pet him before I set him back down and get his food out.

“Well I made dinner. Just carne al piatto.” She gestures for the kitchen. Nonna is a fantastic cook, always making old recipes from Italy. A blessing and a curse as she's picky about what gets put into her kitchen. No sliced cheese, no sliced bread (as she makes all of her own), no store made pasta. So sometimes it's nice when she travels to see my uncle Salvatore, because I go on a spree and buy all of those things. Gorging until I usually can't move.

I eat next to her, I can only assume she's already had food for the night. Nonna changed a little bit when Nonno died, she became quieter and more reserved. She's still a stubborn Italian woman, but life had a little less purpose when he died. He was her life, she was his light.

We sit and talk about our days, she promises to come in tomorrow, like she always does then heads to bed early. I lounge a little more in the living room, looking at the books as the tv is mindlessly on, just for noise. Nonno and my mom were always big readers, we have a whole wall full of books. Nonna was never much of a reader but grandpa sure did try. I share my love for books with mom and Nonno.

I pick a book from the top shelf, not even looking at it, only picking it because it has a green cover and head to my room. I stop at the bathroom, wash my face and change into pajamas. Albert is whining in the hallway so I stop and collect him before I get to my room for the night.

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Today is a busy day, I have two wedding consultations, a funeral delivery today, a few birthday arrangements to be made, and Shelby will be in later than usual today. I feel like I've just been scrambling. Thankfully I have Max who comes in when I need him to deliver for me. It's a small fee but that way I'm always here and don't have to close up shop to make sure people get what they need.

I finally sit around two to eat my lunch. I'm sure it could be better, there is a deli just down the street that has great sandwiches but since Shelby won't be in until four so I'm stuck with this sandwich. I'm mindlessly eating, it's not the best but it's something, I think I have a few candy bars stowed away in the desk, unless Shelby has eaten them already. She does that sometimes.

The bell chimes as someone has come back in the store. I take a deep breath, I'm so tired today, but you must be nice to people so I wrap my sandwich back up and begin to drop it back in the bag when I hear a familiar voice.

“Hi Nora.” Zayn.

Notes

So a little Nora POV, I'll be adding some character pictures here shortly so you can see everyone. :)

Thank you so much for all the fantastic feedback! I know not a lot of people read Zayn stories for some reason but hopefully this one will change their minds. Thank yo ufor all the votes, subscriptions, comments, and reads!

Happy Tuesday!

xoxox