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

“Oh, that would be stunning,” Petunia whispers.

“Right?”

“I think you’re speaking another language here. No to the arm wraps, the others I’m open too. Draw up something detailed, and we’ll meet again with Rachel to decide?”

“I can do that.”

“Excellent, now I hate to run, but I must get ready for a charity event I need to get to later this evening.” He stands, and we follow suit.

“Petunia, thank you for setting aside the time for the one on one. Ms. Bateman, I’ll be speaking with you.”

He’s nearly out of the office when she grabs my hand. “Girl, the fire between you was palatable. I thought my desk was going to burst into flames.”

“What are you talking about? The friction is sandpaper and wood. He rubs me raw.”

“But sandpaper and wood make beautiful smooth art together.” She wags her eyebrows.

“I’m not that hard up.” I shake her off.

“Girl, have you seen him?”

“Did you see our instant oil and water effect?”

“Hate sex, even better.”

I shake my head. “Drop it and help me with these sketches. Tell me what you think we could do with this.” I slid the notebook over to her.

“You really think I’m going to let this go?’

“Yes. You know how I feel about assholes. I had enough of that with Mick to last me a lifetime.” I scowl as I remember the tumultuous relationship.

She sighs and glances down at the paper. “Alright. What were you thinking about the rings? Let’s start with those.”

Luka

I’ve grown used to sharing the spotlight with Rachel. From the minute she was born on my eleventh birthday, I’ve learned the true meaning of sharing. Now, is no different. My concept of a birthday well spent is a day at home with a nice vintage bottle of Scotch, so yielding to her whims is no big loss. I defer to her themes and locales. We both get our own cakes. Which is a relief. I’d never live down the shame of having a hot pink cake. Pink is not my color. That’s how she’s got me dressing up on Saturday.

I covet my days off. They’re few and far between, and I often spend them lazing about the house or doing something chill with the few friends I do have. I once had an incredible social life, but the death of my parents ended that. I couldn’t be worried about parties, and gossip when I had children who needed their homework done, stability in their life and a father-figure they could look up to. There were plenty of things I have up and never reclaimed. At forty, I feel too old for clubs, parties, and a weekly rotation of woman.

I’m no monk. But I make it clear we’re in it for pleasure and we part ways satisfied with no strings attached. It’s amazing how many women will target you once you’ve amassed a giant quantity of wealth. Those are the ones I try to avoid. I let a few get their hooks in me early on when I was vuln

erable and looking for support. The disastrous endings were enough to turn me off trying to have a relationship altogether. Instead, I focused on my siblings and the company. Both were a huge undertaking I was ill-equipped to handle.

The first year was rocky, but we made it, and each year that followed was easier as the joy returned to our lives along with a new sense of normalcy. We all dealt with the accident in different ways. Asher got more self-contained and almost cold in the way he chooses to keep his emotions close to his chest. Kane and Micah turned to partying and women. Though, they never let it interfere with their work. The playboy lifestyle offered them escape.

We’re a bit of the walking wounded, but I count the fact that we’re still on our feet as a victory. I finish tying my black bow tie and slip into my shiny black Salvatore Ferragamo shoes and slip in the diamond cufflinks that belonged to my father. I always try to honor their memory on holidays and birthdays. It makes me feel like they’re with us in spirit. I study my reflection and smooth a stray curl back into place. It should be a small intimate affair, which means family and close friends. I can handle that for tonight.

I shudder to think of the theme. Rachel’s always been into over the top. It’s a horrible habit she never outgrew. Henceforth her fairytale wedding. They’re literally getting married in front of a giant story book. If it makes her happy I’ll foot the bill, but I’d never do it myself. Not that I need to worry about marriage. I’ll probably go to my grave a bachelor simply because it’s easier. What my parents had was good. A strong, solid marriage full of love, laughter, and family. I don’t see too much of that happening these days, especially not in the circles we run in.

What’s the point of marrying if you’re going to be a chronic cheater? With the cufflinks in, I decide I’m ready and make my way out of the house. We decided to have this year’s bash at a bed and breakfast. The Weller Haus Bed and Breakfast has an old world charm I like and an elegance and quirk factor for Rachel. I’m not surprised she choose Olive to help with her wedding. In many ways, they speak the same language. Rachel has a hand in much of our product design. Always drawing and painting as a child, it was a natural progression for her to get into the world of marketing as an adult.

It’s fascinating watching creative types make things with their hands and plot out ideas. My brain isn’t wired that way, so to me, it’s nothing short of miraculous. I know I’ve been hard on Ms. Bateman, but it’s only because I want to give Rachel a final launch off into society. It’s the last gift I can give her before she begins her own family.

I arrive at The Weller Haus Bed and Breakfast and burst into laughter. On the lawn, in front of the multi-story beige brick home with an awning is an explosion of colors. A large poster with thick rainbow-colored lines and a golden unicorn reads Welcome to Rachel & Luka’s 29th and 40th Birthday party. Unicorns. The little imp is lucky I’m secure in my manhood. The gathering of balloons with the same color scheme tells me I’m in for a bright brunch indeed. I walk in, and I’m greeted by cheers from my family.

Everywhere I look there are vibrant colors. A two tiered unicorn cake sits on the table beside a plain white cake with light blue icing. Unicorn punch, I know has to be spiked is layered in a rainbow theme beside macaroons, a fruit tray with multi-colored dip, and a cheese plate with crackers. There’s too much to process at once. It’s like a Where’s Waldo book. I’ll be finding new things for the rest of the day. I walk over to Rachel and hug her. She fits right into the theme with her rose colored dress with a layer of embroidered flowers on top.

“Happy birthday, sister.”