62
Present
“Uh, Frankie?” Josh, my assistant, called from the door to my office.
“Yeah?” I asked, distracted. I was currently balls deep in a system upgrade and didn’t have time to chat.
“You have a delivery,” he said nervously.
“I didn’t order anything,” I said, lifting my head from my computer screen. Instead of seeing Josh, I saw a giant bouquet of flowers-roses and lilies, to be exact. They were my favorite. My pulse spiked. “Is there a card?”
“Uh, no.”
“Did you get a receipt or anything?” I asked urgently.
Who the fuck would send me flowers? And how did they know which ones were my favorites?
“No, the delivery guy didn’t give me anything.”
“Leave them on the bookshelf; I’ll deal with it later. No more interruptions, Josh. I mean it,” I said sternly.
“O- of course,” he stuttered and sort of half-bowed as he left my office and closed the door behind him.
Ignoring his idiocy, I hurried over to the bouquet. The card from the flower shop was attached to the vase, but there wasn’t a note or any clue as to who sent it.
I sat back down at my computer and pulled up the site for the flower shop. There was only one person who had ever given me these flowers, and they couldn’t be from him. It was impossible.
They had an online order form that you could fill out without going into the store, but you’d have to pay by card. Picking up the phone, I dialed the number to the shop. The phone rang twice before a woman answered.
“Emerald City Flowers, this is Nina, how can I help you?” an overly cheery voice said.
“Yes, I just received an arrangement but the card must’ve fallen off in transport. Would you be able to look up the order and tell me who placed it?” I asked sweetly. My normal tone probably wouldn’t have worked.
“Oh dear, I’m so sorry about that. I can look it up by delivery address. Does that work for you?”
“Yes, of course,” I said, and relayed my office address to her.
“Hmm, let’s see. Ah, here it is. Oh dear, it looks like this was an online order. The only name attached to the order is John and no last name. Do you know a John?” she asked.
“No, I don’t.”
“Well, it looks like you might have a secret admirer.” Her giddiness was almost palpable over the phone.
“Can you tell me the name that was on the credit card used?” I asked, trying to ebb the harsh tone my anxiety was causing. I had a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. Something wasn’t right.
“Well, normally that would be against company policy, but it appears it was a prepaid gift card, so there was no name. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s fine. Thank you for your help.”
“Oh, it was no pro-” I hung up the phone before she could finish.
Sitting back in my chair, I considered my options. I could hack into the flower shop’s system, get the card number and try to trace where it was purchased. If someone went through all the trouble to use a fake name and prepaid card, they probably paid for the card with cash.
I was suspicious by nature; it was something that had been instilled in me a long time ago. Between my asshole father and the neighborhood we grew up in, you could never be too careful. Maybe the lady at the shop had been right; maybe it was just a harmless admirer.
It was probably just a coincidence.
My phone chimed with a reminder on my desk, pulling me away from my internal debate.
“Shit,” I said aloud when I read the notification. I was due to meet Mia for lunch in fifteen minutes, then we were going to look at wedding dresses.
Yay me.
After grabbing my phone and gathering everything I’d need to work from home for the rest of the afternoon, I snatched a Red Bull from my mini fridge and headed out. Maybe I’d get some peace and quiet if I worked from home. I spared one last glance at the flowers on my bookcase before I closed and locked my office door. That mystery would have to wait.
Stepping out of the building, I hurried down the sidewalk towards the restaurant. Mia and I had decided to meet at the restaurant, since anytime she came into the office, she was inundated with people needing something. It was as if only an act of God could get her out of there in less than an hour.
A fine mist of rain coated me quickly as I made my way down the block. It wasn’t really rain just kind of a haze of moisture, which was common faire for the Pacific Northwest. Keeping my head down, I pushed forward focusing on avoiding puddles more than on where I was going.
I was jostled when someone shoved passed me, causing my bag to fall off of my shoulder.
A distinct cologne filled my nostrils and I physically recoiled. There was something about that particular scent that triggered an onslaught of memories. Guilt immediately pulled heavily on my heart as I remembered why the cologne had been familiar. It was the same kind Eddie used to wear.
Shaking the thoughts from my head, I turned around to catch the back of the douchebag as he hurried down the street. He was wearing a black sweatshirt with the hood pulled up, shoulders hunched, and his hands in his pockets.
Fucking asshole.
Thankfully I was able to catch my bag before it hit the ground. I hitched it farther up on my shoulder and continued on.
I should have just stayed in bed today.
“Hey, sorry I’m late,” I said as I slid into the booth across from Mia once I finally made it to the restaurant, damp and irritated.
“I’ve only been here a minute,” she responded without looking up from her menu.
“So does the baby ever want anything other than Italian food?” I asked.
“Mmm, It’s all about the pasta. Whoa, did you swim here?” she asked, finally looking up at me.
“Yep, better tell Carlo to start building an ark,” I deadpanned.
“Don’t say that too loud. With how crazy he’s been acting, I wouldn’t put it past him.”
I laughed. I had to. She was calling him crazy? They were both batshit.
“Seriously, he’s driving me nuts. I can’t even leave the fucking house without a shadow. It’s worse than it was when I was in college,” she complained.
“I don’t see a shadow now,” I commented, scanning the busy restaurant.
“Matty’s in the car outside and Angelo is in the bathroom. He’ll be back any minute,” she answered dryly.
As if on cue, Angelo appeared at the end of the booth and squeezed in beside Mia, who reluctantly moved over to make room.
“Hey, Frankie. So what looks good?” he asked completely oblivious to the sideways death glare Mia was giving him.
“Dude, seriously? It’s girl time; get your own table.”
“But- ”
“No buts. Go,” I demanded, pointing at an empty table about ten feet away for emphasis.
“You’re going to make me eat alone?” he asked.
“Yes!” Mia shouted, pushing his shoulder. “I swear to God, if you don’t get the fuck out of this booth right now I’m going to fucking stab you with a butter knife.”
“Jesus, fine. I’m gone,” Angelo said getting up and moving to the free table.
“Un-fucking-believable,” Mia seethed. “Since when do I have to threaten bodily harm to get one of my men to listen?”
“Since Carlo came back, and as much as I love you, he’s scarier.”
“We’ll see about that,” she muttered and returned her attention to her menu. I couldn’t help but smile at how bent out of shape she was about having someone worrying about her.
“Why do you keep looking out the window?” Mia asked, after our waiter took our order and left.
“Hmm? Oh, sorry. I’m just feeling kind of off today,” I said absently.
“Why?”
“It’s nothing,” I said waving her off.
“Bullshit! Tell me.”
“Christ on a cracker, I got some flowers delivered at work today, but I don’t know who they’re from,” I admitted.
Her nose scrunched up and her brows furrowed, “You got flowers?”
“Do you have to look so surprised?” I griped.
“Whatever. There wasn’t a card or anything?”
“No. That’s what’s weird. I called the flower shop and the order was placed online using a just the name John and prepaid card.”
“I don’t like that,” Mia said. “I don’t like it at all. It’s too soon after everything went down with the Russians. Do you have any idea who it could have been?”
“No, I thought maybe my mom, but flowers aren’t really her style and she definitely wouldn’t go through the trouble to hide that it was her.”
“You’re not seeing anyone are you?” she asked. Her tone told me if I’d been seeing someone and neglected to tell her she was going to skin me alive.
“No. Come on, I would have told you if I was seeing someone.”
“What about old boyfriends?”
“I don’t have old boyfriends,” I said, shifting uncomfortably in my seat. I really did not want to get into this with her right now. Angelo was too close and if there was even a chance he could hear I didn’t want to risk it. Not to mention the subject would bring up other shit that I didn’t want to discuss with anyone-even Mia.Property belongs to Nôvel(D)r/ama.Org.
“I don’t understand…” she said trailing off. “Oh my God, are you gay?” she asked suddenly.
“What? No!” I hissed. “Keep your fucking voice down!”
“Well how am I supposed to know? You’re a fucking hermit. Seriously, you’re a litter box away from being a crazy cat lady, and then you go and say something like that, I’ve got to wonder.”
I rolled my eyes and looked up at the ceiling, letting out a heavy sigh before I looked back at her. “It’s not like that. I don’t do boyfriends. The hookups that I have are few and far between-never a repeat-and they know nothing about me. It couldn’t be one of them, okay?”
“So you’ve never had a real relationship?” she asked.
“Seriously? I’m twenty-five, not forty.”
“I know, it’s just kind of weird. No boyfriends in high school or college? You’ve never been in love?”
Heat rose in my cheeks and an ache settled in my chest at her words. “Nope. I was a loner in high school after Enzo left and Eddie took off to do whatever the fuck he wanted. In college I was too busy focusing on school and hacking to bother with a boyfriend. I like it the way it is. If I have an itch that needs to be scratched, I go out and pick someone up. It’s cleaner that way, no messy feelings to get in the way,” I said flippantly.
Mia narrowed her eyes at me, clearly not buying it, but she didn’t push. I liked that about her; she knew when to let it go. “Okay, so no ex-boyfriends. Has anything else happened that was out of the norm?”
“No, nothing. The lady at the flower shop said it was strange but didn’t really make a big deal about it. Maybe it’s nothing,” I said, trying to convince myself more than Mia.
“Hmm, maybe. I don’t know. I think you should consider taking some security with you for a while-just in case.”
“You have got to be fucking kidding me. Were you not just complaining about your security detail?” I asked incredulously.
“That’s because mine is totally unprovoked. The flower thing is creepy, and in our line of business, it’s better to be safe than sorry.” She said the last part quietly. Her eyes were unfocused and she was staring off into nothing. Suddenly she shook her head and cleared her throat. “I think it would be a good idea, at least for a little bit. If nothing else happens then we can forget about it.”
“No.”
“Frankie-” she started to protest but I interrupted her.
“I can be just as stubborn as you, so just drop it. This is a one-off incident; in fact, we don’t even know that it’s an incident at all. Getting flowers isn’t exactly threatening, Mia.”
“Fine, but you have to promise me that if anything else weird happens you’ll let me know right away, okay?”
“I promise,” I said, both relieved and a little leery that it had been fairly easy to convince her to back off. Before I had time to consider it further, the waiter brought us our food.
“Thank God, I’m starving. Eat fast, we have an appointment at the dress boutique in half an hour,” she said, digging into her bowl of pasta with reckless abandon.
Note to self: don’t get between a pregnant woman and her food. You might lose a finger.
After lunch, we drove a few blocks over to the boutique. Matty and Angelo happily stayed in the car while we headed inside for what could only be my personal version of Hell.
“Oh my God,” I whispered to myself when we walked in. We were greeted by a sea of tulle, lace, and sparkles. I instantly wanted to run.
“Isn’t this great?” Mia asked excitedly. She was beaming from ear to ear. “Normally I’m not huge on shopping, but this is different. I’m getting married!”
“Yeah, must be really exciting.”
What did I do to deserve this?
“What, you don’t want to get married at some point? Come on, it’s every girl’s dream.”
I just shrugged.
“Please! One day you’re going to find the perfect man and fall in love and I’ll be there to make fun of you the whole time,” she said confidently and turned her attention to the attendant that was approaching.
You can find the perfect man and fall in love, but if he doesn’t love you back, it’s not exactly happily ever after.
“You must be Mia. Oh look at you-such a young bride, and you’re positively glowing! I’m Helen. I’ll be assisting you today,” she said brightly. She was a tall woman in her mid-forties, and a little on the thin side, which was accentuated by her tight pencil skirt and tailored peach jacket.
“Yes, and this is my friend, Frankie. She’s going to help me pick out a dress,” Mia said politely.
The woman cut her gaze to me and pursed her lips disapprovingly as she took in my black leggings, biker boots, and leather jacket.
I lifted my chin, meeting her eyes in defiance. I wore my leather jacket and bad attitude like armor. Because the louder they were, the less likely someone was to take a chance on getting to know me. My prickly exterior prevented me from letting someone in who would eventually disappoint me.