Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 97409 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97409 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Inside the bright flower shop, I look around at the flowers in the glass fridges. I hear movement coming from the back of the store. A worker comes out. “Hi.” She smiles. “How may I help you?”
“I’m looking for flowers.” Then I laugh at myself. “Obviously. But I’m not sure which ones.”
“Is it a special occasion?” She comes out and stands beside me.
“No. It’s just because.”
“Those are the best flowers to give.” Her smile goes big. “So, romantic flowers then.”
“Yes. But hold on”—I raise my hand—“she’s a bit picky with smells lately.”
“I see.” She tries to hide her smile.
“If you can give me a second, I’m going to call and see if she can tell me what has made her sick over the past couple of days.” I pull out my phone and call Collins. If she doesn’t answer, I’m going to go out on a limb and get some flowers anyway. If they make her sick, I’ll take them into the office.
Collins answers after two rings. “Hey.” She sounds more tired than usual. I hear people in the background, so I know she’s not home.
“Hey, I have a question for you. Have you smelled flowers lately? Did any make you sick?”
“I have not, so I don’t know.” Her tone is not one I’ve ever heard before. The sound of tools comes through the receiver.
“Where are you?” I look out the window toward the street.
“I’m at Brock’s shop.”
My heart speeds up when I think that she’s maybe been stuck on the side of the road. Then I get angry that she didn’t call me if she was in trouble. “What? Why?”
“It’s fine,” she huffs out. “Can I call you later?”
“Yeah.” I disconnect and look over at the woman. “Can you prepare four bouquets with different smells to each of them?”
“Sure thing.”
“I’ll be back to get them in about thirty minutes.”
“Is there a budget?”
“No.”
I rush out and head down the road to Brock’s shop.
Her car sits on the back of a tow truck. I find her standing in the reception area. Her arms are on the counter with Brock behind it. He looks up at me.
“What happened?” I snap, putting my hand on the back of Collins’s neck. “Are you okay?” She looks up at me, and I can see the defeat in her eyes. It makes me want to hurt someone. I bunch my hands into fists, trying to push the anger away.
“It’s nothing.” She quickly shakes her head.
“Nothing?” Brock breathes out like a bull. “It’s not nothing. It’s three slashed tires.” He looks at me. “Cut straight through with a knife. One of the tires was punctured five times.”
My eyes go from Brock to Collins. My hands shake with rage. This is going too fucking far. Now something has to be done.
“It’s fine,” she plays it off.
“It’s not fucking fine,” I growl and then look at Brock. “Was anything else damaged?”
“Not that we can see. But I’ll be doing a checkup anyway.”
“Brock,” she interjects, “really, that isn’t necessary. It’s probably some kids causing chaos.”
“I don’t care what you say.” His tone is clipped. “I’m doing a checkup.”
“Well, how much will that be?” I can hear the weight of the question in her tone.
“It’s on the house. The tires will be a hundred dollars each, new. Or I can call around and see if maybe someone has some used ones.”
“Um . . .” Her finger taps the countertop.
“We can work something out like we did the last time,” he assures. “I’m not worried about it.”
“Oh,” she murmurs.
“The only thing is, it won’t be ready until maybe tomorrow.” He puts his hand on the desk in front of him.
“That’s fine,” I say. “I’ll take her to work and pick her up.”
“That’s—” She lets out a huge sigh. “I guess we have no choice.”
“I’ll call you when we get the exact price for the tires,” Brock says. The two of us share a look that lets him know I’ll be taking care of this bill.
“Thanks for your help, Brock,” she says softly. “Oh, I have to pay for the tow.” She starts to grab her purse, looking away from Brock, and I shake my head at him.
“It’s good,” he deflects. “I’ll put it all on one bill. You can take care of it when the tires are on.”
“Okay,” she says, “if you’re sure.”
“It’s fine, Collins,” he assures. “Don’t worry about it.”
She smiles at him, and it’s a sad smile. The burning in my gut starts to form. “Thanks, Brock,” I tell him. “See you tomorrow.”
I slide my hand in hers as we walk out of the shop. I take one look back at Brock, and he nods to confirm he got what I was silently saying. He wears an expression that tells me he’s going to hurt me if I fuck this up with Collins.