Coming
Up
Roses
Anie Michaels
Table of Contents
Title Page
Coming Up Roses #MeetCute Books (With a Kiss, #4)
Chapter One | Rose
Chapter Two | Rose
Chapter Three | Aiden
Chapter Four | Rose
Chapter Five | Rose
Chapter Six | Aiden
Chapter Seven | Rose
Chapter Eight | Aiden
Chapter Nine | Rose
Chapter Ten | Aiden
Chapter Eleven | Rose
Chapter Twelve | Aiden
Chapter Thirteen | Rose
Chapter Fourteen | Rose
Chapter Fifteen | Aiden
Chapter Sixteen | Aiden
Chapter Seventeen | Rose
Chapter Eighteen | Aiden
Chapter Nineteen | Rose
Chapter Twenty | Aiden
Chapter Twenty-One | Rose
Chapter Twenty-Two | Rose
Chapter Twenty-Three | Aiden
Chapter Twenty-four | Rose
Chapter Twenty-Five | Aiden
Chapter Twenty-Six | Rose
Chapter Twenty-Seven | Aiden
Chapter Twenty-Eight | Rose
Chapter Twenty-Nine | Aiden
Epilogue | Rose
Books by Anie Michaels
Acknowledgements
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Further Reading: Instead of You
Also By Anie Michaels
Coming Up Roses
© Copyright Anie Michaels 2018
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Edited by Lawrence Editing
Cover design © MGBooksCovers
Photographer: Lindee Robinson Photography
Models: Lauren and Chris
Boy meets girl. It’s the way romances usually begin . . . and while we all love a happy ending, it’s the #MeetCute that wins our hearts.
How did you two meet?
The #MeetCute Books each have a unique answer to that query. Some might make you swoon, others might make you giggle . . . and some may make you blush.
Twelve authors. Twelve stand-alone contemporary romance novels. Twelve stories that will make your heart beat a little faster.
Because it’s all about the #MeetCute.
Rose Finch lived by checklists:
- Be an independent woman: check.
- Owner of successful company: check.
- Become a fierce and respected lady boss: check.
- Live within a strict routine as not to encounter anything unexpected: double check.
Aiden Daniels was not on her list.
Well, that was until she found herself in a situation she’d never imagined involving the man who was unimaginably gorgeous. Not to mention strong, capable, sexy, and everything she never dared to hope for.
For the very first time, Rose wasn’t thinking about her career, or her ten-year plan, or her stock portfolio. Nope, she was thinking about a man. The worst part? He was thinking about her too.
Will Rose be able to step out of her box and let Aiden in? Or will love and happiness ultimately end up on the list of things she’d never have?
Chapter One
Rose
I
never understood why people used snooze buttons. Why were they even an option? If you wanted to get up ten minutes later than you set your alarm, then you should have set it for the appropriate time to begin with. When my alarm went off every morning at five-thirty, snoozing wasn’t ever on my mind.
I had lists to tackle.
To-do lists.
Mental to-do lists. Actual lists, on paper. Then there was the daily list on my phone. There was always something to do and an order in which to do it.
With so many things to accomplish, there was no time for snoozing.
I silenced the alarm blaring from my cell phone, dismissing it with an efficient swipe of my finger, then swung my legs out of my bed and sat up, stretching my arms over my head.
It was almost spring, but it was still dark out so early in the morning. I could see a few headlights swing through the darkened room, reminding me of lighthouses and the way the bright lights drifted through the darkness of night.
I walked directly into my en-suite bathroom, not bothering to turn on a light as I knew there was nothing in my way. Clutter and I did not get along. I could not sleep at night unless I knew my apartment was spotless and everything was put in its place. Therefore, I never worried about tripping over dirty clothes or a misplaced purse. I did my morning routine and then walked to the kitchen.
The aroma of freshly brewed coffee greeted me as I left the bedroom, and I smiled, knowing the coffee was set to brew five minutes before my alarm went off. The mug I used every Monday morning was at the front of the cupboard and I filled it up, leaving just a little room for a splash of creamer.
I opened a yogurt and poured in an eighth cup of granola, then took my coffee and breakfast to the table, flipping on the television as I passed.
I liked to watch the news in the morning, just to get a brief update on anything important as I started my day. I had a very clear routine getting ready for work and I needed to know ahead of time if I was going to run into trouble on the way due to traffic, bad weather, or crazy city-life stuff like protests, marathons, or road closures. Usually nothing stopped me from making the fifteen-block walk to my office, but even I could admit sometimes the Portland rain was too much for me and I ordered an Uber to take me to work.
I had some pretty nice shoes and rain wasn’t always a girl’s best friend.
When I was done eating and drinking my fuel for the morning, I turned off the TV, rinsed off my dishes, and put them in the dishwasher.
The next hour went as scheduled and at 7:00 a.m. I was walking out of the elevator, smiling at Wilson, the doorman to my building, and starting the walk to work. On the ride down the elevator I’d put in one earbud and was currently listening to an audio book, which was what I did every morning when I walked to work. I liked listening to the soothing voices of the narrators as I wove my way through pedestrian traffic and made sure to watch out for Light Rail and street cars.
When I arrived at the office I knew I wou
ld be the first person there. I always was. None of my employees were hourly and since the business of event planning doesn’t have regular nine to five hours, I wasn’t expecting everyone to show up bright-eyed and bushy-tailed early every morning. In fact, Monday mornings were notoriously slow because a lot of events took place on Sunday evenings. A lot of my staff were probably out late the night before.
Regardless of what my schedule looked like in the evenings, I was at my desk by seven-thirty Monday through Friday. It kept me sane. Routine was something I needed to function. Routine beat sleep out most of the time. In all honesty, if I tried to sleep in, it wouldn’t work. I would just lie in bed and think about all the things I needed to accomplish at work—everything on my lists.
I unlocked the door and walked in, taking in all the rows of tables with open workstations.
I’d designed the office to have open-air work spaces. Only the higher-up planners had offices and that was on purpose. Event planning was a collaborative business. No one planned an event on their own, and I wanted to build a team, not employ individual people to work in a solitary manner. No one had an assigned desk, but they chose their own and usually stayed somewhere once they were comfortable with the people around them.
I believed working in a friendly environment not only produced more productive employees, but fostered more of a team culture as well. If you worked with people you considered friends, the work didn’t seem like work anymore. At least, that was my view.
As the owner of the business I had to keep a level of authority. I was on friendly terms with some of my employees, but I wouldn’t consider any of them my friends. We didn’t go to lunch together, we didn’t spend time together outside of work, and none of them really knew me. That was fine, though. I knew being the boss would be a different dynamic. If I wanted to be my own boss and run a company, then I had to be the one in charge.
The lights were off, but the morning sunshine was filtering in through all the windows, illuminating just how empty the office was that morning.
My office was along the one side of the building that was all windows, and the room was enclosed by glass walls. One day I’d get those fancy glass walls that could frost over at the push of a button, but since I’d been on a budget when I acquired this office space, I’d settled for long, thick curtains that could offer privacy when desired. Usually, though, I kept them open. I wanted my staff to view me as though I was approachable.
The curtains, though not often used, did come in handy sometimes. We’d had a holiday party just a few months ago and we’d turned my office into a dressing room for the women who didn’t have time to go home and change. I’d hired some makeup artists and hairstylists to come in and we’d had a mini-makeover session.
It had actually been a lot of fun.
I sat at my desk, eager to get the day started, and checked my schedule.
Every Monday there was a 10:00 a.m. meeting with the primary planners, which was just a small few, and we talked about what was happening that week and what our goals were. We didn’t have specified teams, but each primary definitely had their favorite people to work with and I let that happen naturally. So far it had worked out all right.
Until the meeting I’d respond to client emails and possibly reach out to some vendors, depending on how much time I had left.
As I worked, I could see people filter in. I watched as much as I could, trying to gauge the temperament of my team. Mondays were slow starters and I tried to give people as much motivation and reason to show up as possible.
At nine o’clock the pastry and coffee vendor showed up with their weekly delivery.
No one brought coffee to work on Mondays because they knew Stephanie would show up with her ingenious business, EspressGo. She had a food truck and made stops around town to anyone who called and scheduled her. She had an espresso machine and made all kinds of pastries and sandwiches. Every Monday she delivered breakfast for the team and she was the most beloved person to enter the office, naturally.
I smiled as my team swarmed around her, taking their drinks and perusing her muffins and bagels, tipping her generously even though the tab was covered. Sometimes I saw her throughout the week because my team would call her, but they knew on Mondays breakfast and coffee was on me.
After everyone had gotten what they needed, Stephanie made her way toward my office. She knocked on the glass door, my coffee and muffin in her hand. She smiled and pushed the door open, walking to my desk.
“Hey, Rose. Happy Monday.” She placed my regular order on my desk and I smiled gratefully.
“Thanks, Stephanie. How was your weekend?”
“Hectic. There was a huge event at the convention center of gently used baby items, like clothes and stuff. Those moms need their caffeine,” she said through laughter. “I’ve never been so busy.”
“Sounds like a success.”
“True enough. It’s been kind of crazy the last couple months, though. I’m thinking about getting a second truck and expanding.”
The one thing Stephanie and I had in common was we were business owners. It was common to chat with her on a Monday morning about the struggles of running your own business, but we also talked about our successes as well. It was always short conversations, as we were both busy, but it was also nice to talk to another boss lady, even if it was just for a moment.
“Wow, that’s awesome. You’ll have to keep me updated. If there’s anything I can do for you, let me know.”
She shrugged, a smile spreading across her face. “It might be kind of fun to have a grand opening party. Maybe somewhere on the waterfront.”
“That’s a great idea! I’d love to help.”
“Well, if it all pans out you’ll definitely be one of the first people to know. It’s just a thought right now. An aspiration, I guess. I wasn’t even sure one truck would work, but we’re doing okay.”
“You’re doing better than okay, Stephanie. Portland is coffee town. And you’re basically coffee and Uber combined. It was a genius idea.”
She smiled brighter and then moved back toward the door.
“Have a good rest of your week. I’ll see you Monday.”
“See you later,” I replied, smiling back at her.
I sipped my coffee—the best in town if you asked me—and nibbled from my muffin for the next hour until people started migrating toward my office.
I got all manner of greetings and lots of smiles, all of which I returned. There were only five primary planners at that moment. The one with the most seniority was Riley. She’d worked for me for a few years, helped grow the business tremendously, and I considered her my right-hand woman. She was the person I turned to when I needed things to get done. Mark, Sienna, and Tabitha were three other top-tier employees who had made their mark and were competent enough to handle their own accounts without much intervention from me. Rachel was newly promoted, and I’d had the idea to let her oversee the wedding portion of the business.
Weddings were popular in event planning, but they weren’t everyone’s favorite. When Rachel seemed to excel at wedding planning, exuded enthusiasm for it, and expressed interest in specializing, well, I couldn’t turn her down. She was a little younger than the rest of the primaries, but not by much. And she didn’t seem less mature or less responsible. She was, in my opinion, a great addition to the team.
“How was everyone’s weekend?” My gaze floated around the room, landing on Mark, who seemed engaged.
“I just had one daytime event on Saturday. I went fishing Sunday morning with my granddad.”
“That sounds relaxing.” Tabitha laughed, adding, “I spent the entire weekend meeting in-laws.”
Tabitha had been married for a while, but her husband’s family lived in England and had only just made their first trip to visit.
“No wonder you showed up to work so early this morning,” I joked.
Tabitha had been the first employee to arrive. It wasn’t like she was normally late, but to see s
omeone waltz in at eight in the morning on a Monday was sort of rare.
“Am I that obvious?” Tabitha asked, smiling.
I shrugged. “No, I’m sure they figured you just love your job.”
“That I do.”
“What about you, Rachel? Didn’t you have the Wentworth wedding this weekend?”
“I did,” she answered brightly. “Everything went well. I wouldn’t be surprised if we got a call in five months to plan a baby shower.”
Everyone groaned in unison. Baby showers were the worst. Brides could be awful, but a baby shower is just like a wedding for an overly hormonal bride.
“I’ll send the call right to your desk.” I winked at her to let her know I was joking.
“Gee, thanks,” she replied, chuckling.
“Riley?” I asked, noticing her gaze was trained on something through the window. “Everything okay?”
“Huh?” she replied quickly, as though I’d caught her off guard. “I’m sorry, what was that?”
“I was just wondering how your weekend went. Did you have any events?”
“Um, Saturday was set up for the Halloway gala, then last night was the actual event.”
“Right, the fundraiser for the Portland Mission. How did that go?”
“Fine. Great, I think. There were no issues.” Riley was an incredible event planner. Her attention to detail was amazing, her work ethic was top-notch, and her assertive get-it-done attitude made her more than likely to reach any goal she set for herself. One thing she wasn’t, however, was listless. But in that moment, she was totally checked out. It was unusual to catch her staring off into space during our Monday morning meetings.
Instead of questioning her then, I moved on, hoping she’d liven up a little as the meeting went on.
“What is on everyone’s agenda this week?”
I asked that question every Monday, and it always kicked off a usually fun discussion that included brainstorming and problem solving. We worked as a team, sharing strategies and ideas. Even if one person was the primary planner for an event, anyone could help contribute ideas and content.
Coming Up Roses Page 1
