Don't Kill For Me, page 7
“Thanks for opening, Trina. I owe you one.” She was, surprisingly working on an arrangement when I arrived. I let her alone and headed to the back of the store.
Rehashing facts over the the secret admirer’s bouquet made him that much more creepy. The way he knew so many details about my past was odd enough, but breaking up when we weren’t together? And because he’s jealous of a dead man? It was like a bad stalker movie.
“How was the funeral?” Trina asked, practically shouting across the store. “Heard it was full of his mistresses. He really got around.”
“Mind your own business,” I snapped back. “Sell some flowers and earn your paycheck.”
The last thing I needed was to be reminded that I was included in the gaggle of cheating bitches. Anthony was with me for different reasons then he was for them. They had hopes he’d leave Melanie for them. I didn’t want him to get a divorce. I liked him where he was. Unable to commit. In that way, we were perfect for each other.
“That good, huh?” A customer coming into the shop halted any other attempts of Trina coaxing information out of me.
I was on a mission to find out more of the truth. The secret admirer’s identity had to be in the letters somewhere. Taking the copies out of the safe, I spread them out to reread them. Why the breakup? If he left the article, he knew about Anthony. What was his last communication? When was it left?
“Trina, have you gotten any notes lately? From the admirer?” I asked, searching the drawer under the register.
“No. Not since your date with Ray. I told you. It was him and now he doesn’t like either one of us.”
“Trina you know the letters are for me.” I kept looking, moving boxes by the back door, in case it’d been kicked under one.
“Since they’re from Ray, I guess I’ll let you be his goddess.” She smoothed her curves and flipped her hair. “I have others.”
“It’s not a contest. It’s facts.” I picked up a random letter and read a passage: The heat at AJ’s can’t compete with the heat I feel for you. It warms my heart and soul to know you survived the continually burning fires. I looked to Trina and asked, “What did he mean by that?”
“That I’m hot.”
“No. When I was a child, AJ’s Mortuary was right outside my bedroom window. My room was lit up night and day by the non-stop blaze in the fire pit. Rumor around the neighborhood was if you couldn’t pay for a funeral, AJ would burn your loved one’s body.”
“Shit, Eileen. That’s messed up.”
“It was a different time. The point is, the secret admirer knows details about my past. He’s stalking me and I think he might’ve killed Anthony Milan.”
“Why would he do that? You barely knew the guy.”
“Miss, I’m in a hurry. Can I pay?” a customer asked from the other side of the counter. I was glad when Trina was torn away. At that point, I couldn’t have explained to her why Anthony was involved.
My curious thoughts were all over the place. I jumped on the laptop and did a search for AJ’s Mortuary. AJ, the man, had long passed away. The building had stood vacant for the last ten years, after the family had been unable to resell the property. It couldn’t be coincidence, but it also seemed the letters weren’t exactly timed to corresponding events. What kind of game was he playing? Was he professing his love by stalking my past? Why did he think I’d care about an old vacant mortuary?
I considered the reasoning behind leaving the the breakup note. If an Alpha got another Alpha out of the way, wouldn’t he just move in for the kill? This guy feels threatened and retreats. A Beta move. Maybe I have nothing to worry about. But I do. Anthony’s dead. Beta men don’t usually kill. Something doesn’t add up.
“Wow have you seen this?” Trina came back with her phone out. She turned the screen in my direction. On it was a paused video. “Look at this. You’re going viral.”
“What are you talking about?”
“This video of you at the funeral snatching the envelope away. A dead bouquet of flowers at a funeral. It’s crazy. I’m forwarding this to all of my followers.” She handed over the phone for me to watch the video.
“Followers? Of what? Is that a good thing?” I asked, confused as hell. “How did someone post this?”
“Who knows. I’m putting it on all my social media.” Trina took her phone, her thumbs rushing across the screen. “Do you see how clear the shop’s name is on those arrangements? I’m still adding directions in the comments. A dead flower breakup bouquet. I love it. Get ready for a mad rush. Even if it wasn’t a marketing ploy. This is insane.”
“Please don’t post that. Who took that video?” I asked, but then realized that from the angle, I knew who the videographer had to be. Aubrey. Perfect, even after the service was over, she was working for Melanie. A perfect end to a horrible day. I’d been dumped and humiliated.
#
Chapter Eighteen
The next morning we were swamped with women ready to dump their boyfriends. Assuming it’d be an ordinary weekday, I’d opened the store all on my own. I realized the full magnitude a little social media exposure had when I turned the corner to see four women waiting for me to pull up the gate at the store. What’s all this about?
“Can I help you?” I addressed the lot of them.
“We’re here for the dead flowers,” the first woman in line said.
“How much are they?” the third woman asked.
“I was here first,” the first woman snapped back.
“Everyone just chill. I’m sure she has enough.”
“Yes, but how much are they?”
What was the cost? Nothing to me. What price do you put on trash? Are they really waiting in line at ten a.m. to be the first to buy a bouquet of dead flowers? I did a quick calculation of the cost of the ribbon and enclosure card and doubled it.
The women accepted my offer with answers such as,
“Sounds fair.”
“I was expecting more.”
“Can I buy two?”
It didn’t take long for me to recall how the word had gotten out. The night before, as a lark Trina made up two arrangements of dead flowers, taken photos, and added the images to the website. They were still sitting on the back table. Those were the only two I had.
“Give me a minute to custom make your orders.”
“Ugh, you should have these ready.” The first four women crowded near the cash register. “Can I have a red ribbon on mine? I’m on a budget. Can I just get one dead rose? And I’m in a hurry.”
An additional two women walked in behind them. “Is this the place to get the breakup bouquet?”
The last woman in line answered her. “Yeah, but she’s taking her time. I don’t know why she advertised if she wasn’t ready to sell.”
“Sorry there’s just not enough dead flowers on hand. I have to call my grower.” I picked up the landline in an attempt to get the situation under control. Jonah owed me big time. He’d better come up with enough dead flowers from the greenhouse. And fast. While I waited for him to pick up, I asked, “Can anyone tell me where they saw the ad? I didn’t pay for any online ads.”
“It’s free advertising.”
“Your video is trending.” The blossoming crowd answered.
“I watched it eight times this morning.”
“I watched the video once and knew I had to get down here.”
“I turned my car around on the way to work. My so called boyfriend won’t know what hit him.”
“I’m breaking up with my girlfriend. She said she was bi, but she likes men more. She can have them all.”
The phone kept ringing at the greenhouse. “Where is Jonah when I need him?” Past the line of women, I spotted an unexpected savior in the mall. “Ray!”
I scrunched past the chatty, catty women to get to Ray and stop him from walking past. “Ray. I need help. Where are you going?”
“To buy supplies. I’m out of disinfectant. Do know how many wet wipes I go through in a day?” Concerned, he glanced in the shop. “Hey you have a lot of customers. Better get back in there.”
“No, Ray. You don’t understand. They want something I don’t have. Short version they’re here for bouquets of dead flowers. I don’t keep those on hand. Is there any way you can distract them while I drive to the greenhouse and pick up a load?”
“I don’t know. I’m better with kids.”
How could he be so timid? “Come on, Ray. Help me out. Pretend they’re a group of pre-teens and they’re about to wreck your inflatable bounce house slide. Or whatever. Just please help me.”
“I’ll give it go. For you, Eileen.” When faced with an unruly, loud situation, Ray was a changed man. He took charge. His voice boomed over the disorderly group of women.
“Excuse me! I’m going to need you all to pay attention.”
I’d been in a hurry to get my keys, but when Ray opened his mouth, I stopped and stood in awe, forgetting what I was doing, and listening to him bark orders. I actually got more than a little turned on.
“Everyone will need to fill out an order sheet for your bouquet.” He held up a handful of the sheets high over his head. The women clamored for him. He looked like a rock star being mobbed by lovesick groupies. “Go,” he said to me. “Looks like I got this.”
“Right. I’m leaving.” On instinct, as I passed close to him, I grabbed his bicep and squeezed. Damn, he’s a real man after all. “Be back soon,” I sighed, expressing my upset that I was going to miss so much of his “take charge” attitude.
Ray had certainly surprised me. I returned as quickly as I could with a barrel of discarded blooms on the verge of dying. The rest of the day was spent processing the orders that had come in under Ray’s command, fielding questions on the phone, and preparing new bouquets for the next day’s business.
When I’d first opened the floral shop months ago, I’d had an idea that I’d find a way to survive, I’d just never dreamed my success would come from dead flowers.
“Thank you, Ray. You were amazing this morning,” I said as we walked out to our cars together. He’d come by to make sure I’d be able to get out for dinner. The crowd had died down, so I felt fine leaving the store in Trina’s capable hands.
“I’m a little embarrassed.” He leaned in and bumped shoulders with me. “I’ve never been mobbed by a group of crazed women before.”
“You handled it well.” I laced my arm in his. “Say, do you want to go get a drink? Or something. Lower level. Maybe the Tex-Mex restaurant in the parking lot.”
“Guess it can’t hurt.” He pulled back, but still held onto my arm. “Are you asking me out on a date, Eileen?”
“Maybe I am. Maybe I just want to relax in good company after a long day. Are you saying yes?”
#
Chapter Nineteen
There was a definite pounding in my head when I awoke. “Damn. I had too much to drink.” I slapped my alarm off and crawled out of bed. Looking in the mirror, I saw the woman I hated to see. The one that had messed up again.
Hope Ray got home safe, I thought and got in the shower. The warm water invigorated me for another day. It was odd, but I secretly hoped I’d be busy again making dead breakup bouquets.
I ran over the events of the day before in my head as I dressed and landed on a final question. Where are the shoes I was wearing yesterday?
Strolling into the living room, I was caught off guard by what I saw. “What the hell happened last night!”
A mortified and shirtless Ray bolted up on the sofa. “It’s not what it looks like!”
“Start talking, Ray!” I ripped away the much loved, hand crocheted blanket that was covering his legs. Things got worse. Ray was in his underwear.
“Hey.” He jerked to cover his privates. “Ow,” he groaned, gripping his skull. “How much did we drink last night?”
“That’s what you care about? How about did we have sex?” I grabbed the insecure, scared of the escalator man by the hair, and pulled this neck back. “Did you screw me last night?”
“No. Stop!” He wrenched away. “We talked. You wouldn’t shut up about the letters and someone stalking you and on and on about how they were the same man and he killed Anthony.”
“Let me get this straight. We.” I paused to gesture back and forth between our bodies. “Didn’t do anything.”
“No. I wouldn’t do that to you, Eileen. I respect you. Can I get dressed now? I have to open Bounce In this morning.”
“Sure, why not. I’ll give you some privacy.” I left him alone and made my way to the kitchen to pack my lunch. “Do you want me to fix you a sandwich?”
“No, thanks,” he said over the sound of him stepping into his pants. “Have you seen my belt?” he asked, checking around the corner.
“Try between the cushions. I lose the remote there all the time.”
“Thanks.”
“Ray.” I stopped him. “Are we alright? I don’t want any strange feelings between us.”
He dropped his shoulders and gave me a puppy dog look. “We’ll always be good. You’re my constant.”
“Your what?” I’d never heard that term before. Maybe it was a midwestern thing. I knew Ray was from Kansas or Nebraska or something. “Explain.”
“When I go to bed at night. I fantasize about someone to take the place of my wife, may she rest in peace. I know it’s wrong, ’cause we just started talking and we’re still just friends, but—I think of you.”
His confession puzzled me and in a noticeable way. He lunged forward to clarify. “I’m not trying to pressure you. I like you, Eileen, but I know the heart must be willing too. And I don’t get the feeling yours is.” I inched away, so he kept his distance, choosing to lean his back against the fridge while he explained himself. “Not to me that is. I’m okay with being friends.”
“That’s good, Ray. I’m not sure I’m on board with this constant thing, but we’re on the same page with friendship.” I awkwardly shook his hand in hopes of ending on a good note. “Maybe you should go on home now. I’ll see you later at the mall.”
“I would, but my truck’s still parked there. I drove your car here. Something about a gate code.”
As soon as he mentioned it, I remembered the whole incident. Last night, I’d tried to tell him the code 4141 to get in, but he hadn’t understood me. “That’s where my shoes are.” I’d taken them off to run around the car and punch the code in. “Must’ve left them in the car. I walked up here without my shoes on? Did anyone see us?”
“A guy in the elevator. He didn’t say anything, just stared.”
“Great. It gets better. So you need a ride this morning.” I slumped down on a barstool at the kitchen bar. A few silent moments passed. There was still at least a half an hour before I’d usually leave for the mall. Normally, I’d read email in the morning, but it felt weird to think of just ignoring Ray like that. I had no desire to talk to him either. The solution quickly arose. “Do you want to hop in the shower?”
“Could I?”
“Why not? I trust you.” Ray was odd, but he wasn’t going to go rifling through my panty drawer. At the least he’d sniff my towels in the bathroom. I decided it’d be less strange if I wasn’t listening to him shower, so I went down to the lobby to get a cup of free gourmet coffee and a muffin.
#
Chapter Twenty
The cafe area was tucked away behind the front reception desk. It was predominately staged there for the office staff to use, but many residents took advantage of the free flavored coffees. It was a convenient perk on a morning when a quick jolt was needed for energy or distraction. I turned the corner into the cafe to see a friendly face getting coffee, too.
“Mr. Bryant, funny seeing you here.”
“Why is it funny? I live here.” The dreamy-eyed neighbor I’d only had casual run-ins with was cornered in the smallish space. But he had a way of dominating it. “I drink coffee.”
“I stand corrected. It’s just that I’ve never seen you down here in the cafe. Is it still hot?” I asked, pouring some coffee into a styrofoam cup.
“Slightly warm. Let me just. . .” He reached around me to open the drawer to my right. I sucked in so he wouldn’t have a chance to feel any extra pounds I’d put on lately. He pulled out a few brown packets and shook them. “Real sugar. Have to have it.”
“Of course. I’m a flavored creamer girl. Could you?” I darted my index finger toward the fridge.
He was closer, so he obliged. We didn’t talk while he retrieved the creamer, I poured some into my coffee, and he put it back in the fridge.
“Are you working from home today?” I smiled. He furrowed his brow. “It’s after nine o’clock. I assumed.”
“Right. I’m sort of a contractor. I set my own hours.” He fixed the lid on his coffee, then handed me one for mine.
“That’s nice. I own a flower shop.” I nodded. Offering him the information seemed natural. I didn’t feel the least bit uneasy standing there in silence with Mr. Bryant. He had a manly man’s aura about him that drew me to him. It also helped that I was attracted to his firm muscular body.
“I enjoy flowers. Never could get any to stay alive, but they’re nice. To send to beautiful women. Like yourself.”
“Thank you,” I blushed. “I rarely get flowers given to me. That’s not to say I don’t date. I do. I—just—I’ve recently had a breakup.” It was my way of telling him I was available, if he was interested.
“I don’t believe it.” He blew across the top of his coffee cup and took a drink. Then nodded for me to explain.
“Two men broke up with me recently. One, Anthony passed away, but the other. . .” The rambling started. I could hear myself talking, but I couldn’t stop the words from coming out. “Have you ever had a secret admirer? A person that watched you from afar and thought they knew you when they really didn’t? Of course you have. Look at you.” I think I squeezed his bicep at that point. “You probably deal with women falling for you every day. What I mean to say is, a man just broke up with me and I don’t even know who he is. How can a person be so unaware of another person’s existence?”
