“Clarence Harding barked as he entered Kennedy Anderson’s shop minutes after she’d opened for the day. He pulled off his thick knit cap and exposed an ice-grey head of hair. “Mornin’, Mayor.” “Good morning, Clarence. And it’s Cupid’s Bowquet. Bo—long O. Bow, like bow and arrow—Cupid’s bow and arrow. It’s not bow, short O, like bowwow.” For more than three decades, Kennedy’s aunt had owned the flower shop and it had been Betty’s Flowers. But Aunt Betty had been gone three years. This was ...Kennedy’s shop now, and she thought it was a great marketing strategy to play off the town’s name. Last year she’d realized that when you lived in Cupid Falls, Pennsylvania, Cupid’s Bowquet was a perfect name for a flower shop. “It’s a dumb name, Mayor, if you don’t mind me saying.” Kennedy did mind, but she was enough of a businesswoman not to say so. “What brings you in today, Clarence?”MoreLessRead More Read Less
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