Thorn in My Side (Bunch-A-Blooms 2)

“You know the saying. The lady doth protest too much? You and the sexy candy maker might be butting heads because the sexual tension is thick enough to choke you.”

I cough. “Are you trying to make me choke on my shrimp?”

“No. just tossing out an alternate explanation to the current friction occurring between the two of you.”

“You’ve never even seen us together.”

“No, but damn do I want to.”

I roll my eyes. It’s the couple effect. They want to see you happy and paired, so they see things that aren’t there.

“You’d be entertained, but proved wrong swiftly.”

“We’ll find out soon enough. We have that meeting in a week.”

“Crap. I forgot about that,” I say as we move to the Big Green Monster to eat in front of the television.

“Have you thought about what you want to do with the bridesmaids floral arrangements?”

“No. We need to figure out what the flowers will be, and then I’ll sketch them there.”

“I love it when you draw. You’re so talented it kind of makes me sick.”

“And yet, I couldn’t keep flowers alive to save my life, let alone make arrangements. We all have our skills.” She turns on the television.

“Binge-watch Supernatural?”

“Sounds good to me, I am so far behind it’s not funny,” I say with a sigh.

“It’s okay, we’ll get our Sam, and Dean fixes, and get you ready to start watching regularly again.”

Silence falls as sh

e navigates Hulu to the show and I let all thoughts of work disappear.

I pull the emerald green dress with navy flower print with orange centers over my head and turn to the left and right. Luka always seems to prefer business attire, but I’ve been working my fingers to the bone all day trying to finish off the napkin rings before he moves on to assigning me yet another task. I look at my reflection and sigh heavily. I look tired. Concealer. I grab the makeup bag off my vanity and liberally apply the liquid under my eyes. I blend it in and apply a light coat of powder. It’ll do. I replace the caps on my brushes, coat my lips with a nude gloss, and rush out of the bedroom. I grab the bag I’ve loaded up with my sketchbook and pencils and rush out the door.

I don’t want to be late. It would prove Luka right. I get the feeling he thinks I’m some sort of irresponsible woman-child playing at a business. I’m used to not being taken seriously. I’m a young African American woman with a unique sense of style and an unconventional business I run from my home. It shouldn’t matter, but it does. Proving myself is second-nature. It’s why I strive to give the best customer service and produce a high-quality product each and every time. I have to work harder than the bigger corporations. I don’t mind paying my dues, but I’ve been at this for so long I need to see the light at the end of the tunnel to add more fuel to my tank. I’m approaching thirty-five, and watching my friends all pair off, marry, and move forward with their lives. I’m ready to shine.

My nude-colored heels clack over the concrete as I hurry inside Bunch-A-Blooms flower shop. Of course, his stupid black Escalade is already parked in the newly expanded side parking lot. The man runs like clockwork, and it irks me to no end. People aren’t meant to be machines. He has very little give, nearly impossible expectations, and an almost abrasive personality. He doesn’t have any heart. Unless he’s dealing with his family. The bell above the door jingles as I slip inside and find Petunia smiling up at Luka.

I place my hand on my hips. How dare that traitor be charmed by my arch nemesis? They turn to me and the smile that shows his dimple fades away. I’m almost offended. I don’t like you either, bub. I let my hand drop to my side, and clutch the handle of my purse.

“I’m here.”

“With minutes to spare.” It’s amazing how such a silken voice can make me want to scratch someone’s eyes out.

“Yes, the napkin rings were so close to being finished, I pushed it to the last minute.”

“I see. Well, that’s good news. I want to make sure you’re available to complete the work.”

“Oh, I will be,” I promise. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of anything else.

“We’ll see.”

I grind my teeth. I liked him much better when we were out to breakfast. Maybe that’s it. He has a semi-permanent case of hangriness.The type of anger that comes from hunger. I want to take the bag of trail mix out of my bag and cram it down his throat.

“How about we head to my office? I pulled up a few of the flower schematics Rachel and I discussed based on what will be blooming during the time she gets married. We have her approval to work up a few concepts with them as the base.”