Chapter Two
A yawn strained my mouth until I could have jammed a grapefruit inside. My body was on strike for forcing it out of bed this early.
Wrinkling my nose, I stared across the searing fluorescent grow lights to the source of my dire predicament and the reason I had to see a four in the morning. On the whole, Ms. Hellberg ruled her florist shop with an aloof iron fist. Oh, it could come down hard when she was in the place and needed to rattle her employees lest all two of us thought of revolting. But most of her life was dedicated to maintaining her numerous connections across the old money section of the city.
So Lauri and I were usually allowed free rein, until the big holidays. Then it was time to pull out her Patton routine and march before a giant flag. I glanced over to find Lauri’s head bobbing on her shoulder as she tried to listen-sleep.
“It’s Valentine’s Day!” Hellberg snapped, whacking a set of garden stakes into her open palm. They struck like bamboo canes, Lauri’s head shooting up fast as she looked around for the invading Huns. Ms. Hellberg with low blood sugar and an aphid infestation would have scared the piss out of Attila.
“And you all know what that means,” our boss thundered as if she had a dozen minions in her thrall instead of one half-asleep college student and an artist who’d grown tired of starving. She raised her stakes like she was conducting an orchestra.
Slowly, both Lauri and I droned out, “We have to put our best foot forward.”
“You must put your best foot forward,” Ms. Hellberg talked over us, as usual. The pacing resumed, her hands knotted behind her back while she began to drill us over various flower arrangements. None of it mattered. We’d loaded the truck last night with the final orders, then yanked the phone out of the wall so there couldn’t be any last-second requests. Thank God Ms. Hellberg had no idea what email was.
Valentine’s Day. I’d known it was coming. Nothing short of a moose alien apocalypse could stop the big commercial holidays. My fingers ached from all the knots I’d had to tie for curly ribbons. I hadn’t had such bad cramps since my college days of trying to fill a sketchbook the night before it was due.
Rubbing the back of my neck as Hellberg moved on to the proper way to greet a customer, I tried not to grimace at the big board. Ten feet tall, it held every single order, the person who’d placed it, and its destination. To make certain no one got missed. It wasn’t its existence or the fact that we were facing over a hundred deliveries today that had me wincing.
No, it was that unassuming name beside the ‘Gettin’ Some’ bouquet. Not the package’s official title, because Ms. Hellberg would have a screaming heart attack if she saw. But Lauri and I couldn’t say ‘Breath of My Love’ ten times a day without gagging until our tongues fell out. Hence the awful nicknames.
Okay, I’m weak. I’ve never claimed not to be. The one time I tried to join a gym, I couldn’t even get the door open. That’s how weak I am. And fine, maybe I did a little light Facebook stalking. Which was why, while half-drunk at two a.m., I’d stared in awe at Tan in a pair of scandalously tiny swim trunks. They were even wet with obvious cupping around an arrhythmia-producing bulge.
I couldn’t find any clear signs of a girlfriend, but there sure were a lot of photos of him with pretty women in business suits. And why wouldn’t he be with a woman like that? Him in his suit, she in hers, making babies that popped out in their own infant-sized business suits. It was suits all the way down.
“Dawson!” Hellberg snapped in my face, draining me from my wallowing.
“Yes?” My shoulders launched back, yanking my line of sight way above her bird hat.
“You’re on delivery.”
God, no. “What?” I groaned, “Again? I did Christmas. And last year’s Mother’s Day.”
Hellberg was tugging on something hanging behind the big board but paused to glare at me. “You’re a strapping young man…”
Lauri didn’t hide her laugh at that comment while I crossed my arms over my beanpole chest.
Not even glancing at the interruption, Ms. Hellberg continued, “You are best equipped to handle it.” With that order, she returned to whatever had caught her fancy while I tipped my head back to the ceiling and cursed at the stars.
Sidling closer, Lauri whispered, “What? It’s a few hours in the truck. Big deal.”
“Says the one who’s never had to haul hundreds of pounds of dirt up and down stairs while tittering secretaries glare death at you because it’s not for them.”
“Uh-huh. Know what I think? You’re worried about seeing your man candy.”
“For fu—” I snapped my eyes to the old lady who’d show me my own intestines, and I pivoted my tongue. “Fudge’s sake. No one says ‘man candy.’”
Lauri pouted like she was proud of her childish taunt. Well, if she thought the deliveries were so easy, why didn’t she do them? I was about to suggest as much when Ms. Hellberg finally finished whatever she was messing with. And there seemed to be something that looked like a garment bag dangling off her arms.
“Dawson,” she ordered.
A lot like a garment bag. One that unzipped in the old lady’s fingers to reveal a garish suit in cherry red. All my sphincters clenched at once just as Ms. Hellberg began to speak. “You’ll be delivering in this.”
Fudge indeed.
“No.” I shook my head, the hangover dissipating as my life flashed before my eyes. It wasn’t just the suit that screamed sleazy massage parlor owner. It was the idea of having to walk up and down this city in cheap, sweaty polyester. Which was when she brought forward the vest. White with tiny red and pink hearts all across it.
How badly did I need to eat, really? They said humans could go for a few weeks and not die. Maybe I could survive off dewdrops and sunbeams.
The cruel laughter of my coworker only cemented my resolve that I would not for any reason wear that abomination. “Ms. Hellberg,” I began, striding closer to zip the monstrosity closed. “I cannot and will not wear this…”
A glare that would have sent wolves scampering back to their dens cut across me and I froze. With a voice crackling like thin ice, she ordered, “If you don’t, you’re fired.”
I wanted to be a prideful man, to refuse and walk out of that door with my head held high. But that head rather liked not having to sleep in the rain, and the stomach was already vengeful at me forgetting breakfast. My ego couldn’t compete with all the pampered body parts taking the horrific suit from my boss. I caught the size of the suit on the tag. It was so large I’d look not only like a lecherous love guru but a clown one as well. Perfect.
With my total surrender, Ms. Hellberg nodded her cruel head. “Get to it already.” She turned on her sensible shoes and walked out into the four a.m. night.
I crumbled. Not literally, though my self-esteem wasn’t looking in too good shape. Nor was I going to flop to the floor in agony. But that goddamn suit. What if I didn’t wear it? What were the chances she’d even see me in…?
She’d know. Despite never being around, Ms. Hellberg always knew. I was doomed.
Lauri yawned and stretched her arms wide. “Will that ol’ bat ever figure out that we can’t even make any deliveries until eight a.m.? Well, four hours of pay for doing nothing. I’m gonna get some coffee. Want any?”
While it was about as tempting as curling up for a quick nap on the bubble wrap stock, my brain was locked in a loop. I had to wear this suit. Outside. Where people would see me. Where everyone would see me.
A hand landed on my shoulder, shocking me from my reverie. Lauri leaned closer, a laugh in her eye. “For what it’s worth, I don’t think your man candy was into you anyway.” She fingered the cardboard-like suit and chuckled. “That’ll only help make it official.”
“You are such a…” I began, a hiss rolling on my tongue while Lauri laughed it off. Tan. He was so handsome and perfect that every fabric that touched his body wept at the chance to cradle his skin. He was going to see me in this. I would have to deliver flowers to him or his girlfriend while dressed in a bright red suit.
“I hate this fucking holiday,” I snarled to myself. My coworker laughed and shot me a thumbs-up as she vanished into the night to find caffeine.
At least Lauri was right about one thing. After Tan had to suffer me in this, he’d stomp on my heart with both expensive shoes.