CHAPTER 132: BEST IN BLOOM

Outside the private museum, everything looked polished to perfection. The pavement gleamed, framed by manicured hedges and bright seasonal flowers. Well-spaced trees along the stone path, while a small fountain bubbled quietly near the ticket counter.

Cars glided smoothly through the well-maintained parking area while Theodore Marston faced Aveline.

"Ms. Laurent, I’m truly sorry for what happened," Theodore said, his voice formal and laced with regret. "I arrived late, and things clearly spiraled out of control. I take full responsibility for the chaos earlier. It shouldn’t have happened to any participant."

Aveline nodded lightly.

"If I may..." he continued, "I would appreciate it if you stayed until the announcement. It would truly help with the atmosphere."

There was no humility in his tone, just calculation wearing politeness like a tailored coat. The media wouldn’t take her absence well, and they both knew it.

Aveline paused. She wasn’t fond of people suddenly going out of their way unless they had something to gain. Damage control and good PR. It wasn’t hard to guess what Theodore wanted.

"I’ll be around," she said simply. "I’ll appear during the announcement."

"Of course," he replied, stepping aside. "And thank you, truly."

Aveline nodded once more and got in her car.

Theodore stood watching her leave, his expression shifting as her Maserati pulled away. He shoved his hands into his trouser pockets and let out a low chuckle.

"She handled the mess without uttering a damn word," he muttered under his breath, eyes narrowing with both admiration and amusement.

The growing crowd buying tickets made him smile wider. "And gave us free publicity while she was at it."

As the Maserati disappeared around the turn, his expression darkened.

’You really are something, Aveline Laurent. I would have fun playing with your life, just like how you played with Damien’s.’ His lips curled sinisterly.

....

At the café just down the road, Aveline sat by the window with a steaming cup of golden tea. She had chosen the corner table, partially shaded, quiet, and tucked away from the eyes.

She didn’t want to call Scarlett, knowing she had a long-awaited date with Nate. Her parents were out for a dinner event, and her brother was on a date too. She didn’t want to disturb anyone, so she spent time alone with her thoughts.

Her gaze lingered on her phone, sitting silent on the table.

Alaric was on a business trip combined with a university lecture and guest appearance in the capital city. He messaged her occasionally, just enough to let her know he was thinking of her, but not much more.

Still, after that viral video from the museum, a part of her expected... something. A comment. A reaction. A teasing text, at least.

’He’s busy,’ she brushed the thought off and sipped her tea, pretending it didn’t linger. Despite knowing he was becoming her habit.

The bell above the door chimed, and a sudden burst of energy filled the space.

"Ms. Laurent!" came a cheerful voice.

She turned to see her Bloom & Grace team entering, six of them, slightly flushed from the cold and excitement.

"We just came from the museum," beamed Tara, the 21-year-old social media manager, eyes shining. "You were trending all over my feed. We didn’t even know you were here!"

"You looked... unreal," she added with a dramatic gasp. "People are calling you a floral goddess. I got footage of your installation. Our engagement is through the roof!" She showed the iPad to Aveline.

The others laughed, pulling a table next to Aveline’s and gathering around her.

"You didn’t even tell us!" exclaimed Nolan, the creative team lead, looking part shocked, part impressed. "Seriously, Ms. Laurent. That was such a smooth move. You practically made the exhibit yours without lifting a finger."

He leaned forward, suddenly inspired. "You know what? We should add this to our event packages. Installation of master pieces or live installations with emotional storytelling like that. If you’re up for it."

"That could be a major hit," one of the other team members chimed in. "People would love it. It’s artsy, intimate, and feels exclusive."

Aveline smiled, setting down her cup. "I like that idea."

She didn’t tell them it was her entire vision for the company, to create experiences that didn’t just entertain but left lasting memories. They would find out soon enough.

An hour passed smoothly with her enthusiastic team. They talked, cracked jokes, and laughed together, though they never expressed concern about not having any events yet.

....

It was seven in the evening when the team left for dinner and Aveline returned to the museum.

Due to the media presence, she pulled on her mask and took her reserved seat among the participants.

The emcee spoke first, followed by the organizers and judges sharing their experiences before they began recognizing the art in different categories.

"Let’s begin with the People’s Choice Bloom

, voted favorite by our audience, goes to Garden of Dreams."

The artist gasped before making her way to the dais to collect the monetary reward.

"Next up, the Sculpted in Stem Award for most innovative structure goes to Metamorphosis in Bloom."

The categories continued: Color Harmony Award for best use of color palettes, Floral Fusion Award for best fusion of traditional and modern elements, and Floral Artist of the Year for consistent excellence and creativity.

Finally, the emcee’s voice grew more dramatic. "I’m sure everyone here is wondering why we haven’t recognized the art that gained the most votes and earned the most admirers. That’s because our next recognition is the highest honor. Best in Bloom for overall excellence. Please welcome Aveline Laurent, artist of His Whispering Wave."

Applause filled the hall as all eyes turned to Aveline. She stood gracefully and walked to the small dais. Camera flashes erupted continuously. She accepted wishes from the organizers and judges, but when she reached Theodore Marston holding the check and trophy, she walked past him without acknowledgement.

She approached the emcee and extended her hand. He quickly passed her the microphone.

When she turned to face the audience, media representatives called for her to remove her mask, which she ignored.

"Thank you..." Her soft, melodious voice hushed the entire hall.

"I’m deeply grateful for every vote, every kind word spoken about my work. But I must decline this award. Not out of disrespect for the honor, but out of respect for myself. Not because of someone’s foul mouth, but because accepting it would anchor me to a humiliation I didn’t deserve."

She handed back the microphone and walked down from the dais. The hall fell into pin-drop silence as she made her way to the exit, her head held high.

....

Pulling off her mask to breathe the fresh air, she was walking down the stairs outside the museum when she paused. Alaric was hurrying up the steps toward her.

She wasn’t sure how she felt about winning Best in Bloom, but the sight of him eased something inside her.

He slowed when he saw her. She stood on the stairs, bathed in the golden hue of the light. Her tailored olive sharp-shouldered vest and pleated skirt fit as if made for her alone. Gold minimal accessories caught the light, and her heels featured gilded stems that gleamed under the illumination.

She didn’t need to speak. The way she held herself, elegant and self-assured, was enough to still the air around them. For a brief moment, Alaric forgot everything else except the woman before him.

Noticing the pinkness on her cheeks from the cold, he took her overcoat from her arm and draped it over her shoulders. "Am I late?" he asked. His gaze was warmer than the coat.

Aveline could tell he had rushed everything, and heading straight to the museum after landing. Yet he looked impeccable. "Perfect timing," she responded.

She led him through the quiet exhibit as everyone had gone downstairs for dinner. "How were your events?" she asked.

"Never going there again," Alaric said frankly.

He wouldn’t lie. Many of the artworks were impressive, but she was breathtaking, and he couldn’t focus on anything else.

Aveline paused and turned to him. He did the same. "If you don’t like being the face of NexGuard, create one," she said quietly.

Arrogance doesn’t just blind, it deafens. You stop listening before you stop learning. And that’s the first crack in success. She wished for nothing but success and happiness in his life.

Alaric understood what she was trying to say. Even while staying at the top of the business chain, his father cooperated with the marketing team when necessary, attending interviews, events, and lectures.

He nodded in response. "Yes, Ms. Laurent."

She gestured toward the room containing her installation, and he followed her inside.

He stood watching the wave. Under the dim lighting, it looked like an actual ocean wave rather than flowers. He walked around the piece and paused in front of the label.

He read it once, then glanced at Aveline, who was quietly observing him.

He read it again and asked with curiosity, "Him?"

"You!"

Across the room, they stood still, gazing at each other. If anything, he wanted to close the distance and kiss her. Her floral art was shaped with memories of him. It was her language, and he had finally heard it.

She wondered if Scarlett was right that she was truly falling for this man. Maybe she was, especially considering how he had rushed here just to see her art.

She broke the silence after a few seconds. "I’m starving." It was well past her dinner time.

Alaric followed her but took another look at the wave installation. If only he could preserve it.

Not just the art. The moment.

And maybe, someday, the woman too.