Four Day Fling

“Uh…I think that was a compliment, so sure.”

“And you find me chicken!” Rosie said, jabbing her finger in the direction of Mr. Suit. One last glance at us both and she left the ballroom, taking all the tension with her.

Mr. Suit breathed out a huge sigh of relief.

“Sorry about her. She’s a bit uptight,” I said brightly. “I, however, am much more pleasant to deal with.”

His eyes darted to my shirt. His lips barely twitched, but amusement definitely flashed in his eyes for a second. “Thank God for that, because that’s not the only problem.”

I groaned. “Hit me.”

***

I slammed my car door shut, pressing the button on the key a little too vigorously. “Fucking chicken. Fucking strawberries. Fucking wedding,” I muttered to myself. “I’m not a fucking personal shopper for a wedding venue that can’t cater for chicken and strawberries.”

I clutched the receipts tightly in my hand. I never wanted to see another grocery store again. I was gonna do it all online from now. I’d been to every damn store in Key West to get as many strawberries as I could.

I swear, by the time I entered the last Publix, there was a security guard following the weird redhead buying everyone’s strawberries.

And I was over them.

Strawberries, that was. Not Publix. They’d provided me the aspirin I needed for my damn headache from this day.

The bright side was that I knew Grandpa was safely locked in his room—for now—my mom was waking up from her tequila-induced nap, and rumor had it that Celia had slipped my sister something by telling her it was paracetamol, and she’d been sleeping for the last hour.

I wished someone would slip me something. Like a shot of vodka.

I asked for the Mr. Suit at the desk. Using his real name, of course. But Mr. Suit sounded better in my head.

“Ms. Dunn.” Resting his hand on my elbow, he pulled me aside. “Did you get the strawberries?”

“Cleared the entire place out of them,” I told him. “And as soon as you reimburse me, you can have them from my trunk.” I held the receipts out to him.

He unfolded them, eyes flitting back and forth frantically as he added up each total. “Three hundred dollars on strawberries?”

“Do you want my sister to find out about this?”

His spine straightened. “No, no, of course not. Will you take a check?”

“You told me cash.” I folded my arms. I needed that money to pay my damn rent. “But I’ll accept a bank transfer.”

“Very well, very well. Cash, I can do.” He waved me into the main office. There was a small safe in the corner, and I raised my eyebrows as he prodded in a code.

That didn’t seem very safe to me, but what did I know?

I just wanted my money back.

I waited patiently for him to count out three hundred dollars and secure it in a brown envelope.

Why the hell did I feel like I was executing a drug deal?

“Thank you,” I said, taking the envelope. “Can you have someone come out with some crates? My car is full.”

“Of course. Ten minutes.” He nodded, signaling that I should leave.

I did just that and almost walked right into Adam.

“Whoa, Red. Careful.” He touched my arms and looked down at me with a smile. “Where’ve you been? Drug deal?”

“Shit. You caught me.” I rolled my eyes. “No, I had to go on a mission. Walk to my car with me?” I started walking before he could say no.

“Like a secret mission?” he asked, catching up with me.

“I wish. It would have been more fun with a cape and a mask.” I sighed. “Remember how I fake-remembered to help Rosie earlier?”

He side-eyed me. “Oh, that was fake? I couldn’t tell.”

I nudged him with my elbow. “Well, turned out, there was a real issue. The hotel has run out of chicken.”

“How does a hotel run out of chicken?”

“Something to do with a supplier. Anyway, I sent Rosie to bed because she was this close to having a heart attack.” I pinched my finger and thumb together to show him just how close. “And the guy tells me they are also about to run out of strawberries.”

Adam rubbed his hand over his stubbled jaw. “I think I can see where this is going.”

“Right. So, I told him he had until I got back to find a new chicken supplier and get it here first thing tomorrow morning, and I’d go on a strawberry hunt.”

“Don’t say it.”

“Yep. I’ve spent the last hour or so looking like a crazy woman, and…” I unlocked my car and popped the trunk. “Voila. If you need strawberries in Key West, you’re shit outta luck, because I bought them all.”

“How many strawberries do you need?”

“Three hundred dollars’ worth.”

“Are you serious?”

I turned to face him. “Do I look like I’m joking?”

“No. I’m just wondering why the hell three hundred dollars’ worth of strawberries is necessary.”