Mercedes flips her hair, bringing me back to the present. “Anyways, don’t worry. I won’t tell Andréa about your little extracurriculars.” She waves vaguely at my phone, which I’m still clutching in my bloodless fist. “I don’t need to.” She smirks.
What the hell does that mean? Does she know something I don’t, or is she bluffing?
With a final imperious glare, she marches out of the bathroom, leaving me alone with a feeling of unshakable foreboding. Now more than ever, I’ll have to watch my back. And step up my hours if I don’t want Mercedes to swoop in and snatch a job offer right out from under me. I just hope at this point my efforts will be enough… and Mercedes will stay far, far out of my way.
The following Thursday, I burst into Blooms & Baubles, legs aching from jogging almost the entire way from my office. I can’t believe I’m over two hours late, but Andréa needed help prepping for a cross-examination so of course I stayed. I just hope my tardiness hasn’t put Perry too far behind on all the flower arranging that needs to be done by this weekend’s festival.
The door to the shop is unlocked, but the store is as dark and empty as the street outside. Maybe Perry’s holding the meeting in the back. Hiking my bag higher on my shoulder, I cross the shop to the Employees Only room. Bright lights momentarily blind me when I open the door, and I squint. “Hey guys, sorry I’m late. What’d I miss—oh!” My voice catches when I walk straight into a mountain of pure muscle.
I look up into the looming, craggy face of an unfamiliar middle-aged man, and immediately jump back. His head is closely shaved and he has a snake the size of a fist tattooed on his neck, directly above the collar of his gray Script Ohio T-shirt. My breath abandons me and I freeze.
“Hey, Cass, you made it!” Perry calls from behind the boulder of a man standing in front of me, and my heart starts beating again. “Meet Chuck.”
Chuck? Oh right, Chuck. “You’re Perry’s delivery driver.” I nearly laugh in relief. I knew Chuck was an ex-con, but I wasn’t expecting him to look like, well, someone off Dateline. But then again, if Perry hired him, I can trust him. Looks are only skin deep, after all. “Hi. I’m Cass.”
“Nice to meet you.” His voice is gruff, but his smile is kind, if a bit hesitant.
An older woman with short, black-streaked gray hair and copious wrinkles around her soft brown eyes sidles up next to Chuck. “This must be the famous Cass. At last we meet.” She thrusts a tanned hand at me, and we shake. “Alma Fernandes. I’ve known Perry here since he was in diapers.”
“Alma.” He groans.
“What? It’s true.”
“You’re the part-time florist, right?” I ask.
“I would be full-time if my grandkids didn’t keep me so busy. My daughter just had her third in May, and with three babies under the age of four, she needs all the help she can get.” Her crisp laughter tugs a smile from me. “We thought you’d be here earlier. What kept you?”
“I had to stay late at work.”
“Gotta draw lines, honey. Gotta draw those lines. If you don’t, your bosses will walk all over you. Isn’t that right, Perry?”
I peer over Alma’s shoulder through the open door to where Perry is sitting at his desk in the far corner. His lips twitch as though he’s suppressing a smile, and he nods solemnly. “Alma doesn’t let me put a single toe out of line.”
She chuckles. “I’m only teasing. Perry’s one of the good ones. Excuse me,” she suddenly barks, and I jolt. “Don’t think I don’t see you trying to sneak off, Chuck. You’re having dinner at my place tonight and that’s the end of it.”
I’d been so focused on Alma I hadn’t noticed that Chuck had edged past me into the store. He freezes a couple of feet behind me, lips pursed. “Alma, honestly. You don’t have to feed me. I have leftover pizza—”
“Cold pizza for dinner? Not on my watch. I’ve got a pot roast in the Crock-Pot and no one to share it with. I’ll even send you home with some extra for tomorrow. Come on now, no more arguing. Let’s go.”
I step back so Alma can pass me.
Chuck rolls his eyes, but I don’t miss his grudging smile. “Some advice?” he says to me. “Don’t argue with Alma. She’s always right.”
“I don’t know,” calls Perry. “She’s never gone toe-to-toe with Cass. Alma, you might have finally met your match.”