The Virgin Society Collection

28. Call It Good

28

CALL IT GOOD

Milo

What does she want now? My head swims with new worries as Callie strides toward me like she owns the flooring, the ceiling, and all the shelves, flowers, and bikes.

This woman should be required to carry a whip to warn others what she’s like.

Instead, she’s full con artist, decked out in costume so damn innocently—pink Converse sneakers, khaki shorts, and a tank top. When she reaches me in the middle of the flower shop, she flashes a megawatt smile.

This is the only time I’m grateful for a lull in foot traffic. There are no customers shopping for buds. But Zara looks up from the bike counter, then walks around it, flanking me like a bodyguard.

Callie tilts her head, her eyes sweeping my face. “Milo, sweetheart. You have grease on your cheek. I swear, you’re such a cute, hot mess. Last time it was glitter. Let me help you,” she says, lifting a hand.

Flinching, I step away. “What do you want?” I bite out.

She pouts. “Is that any way to greet one of your business partners?”

“Excuse me?”

Smoothly, she gestures toward the shop in the back, where the wheels for Rio’s ride are visible through the open door. “I follow you online, and I’m so excited to see your custom bike business is growing. It’s thrilling.”

Zara crosses her arms. “Because Milo works hard at it,” she growls.

Callie’s smile ripens. “Hard work is so important, and so are ideas,” she says, then sighs, a long, horrifyingly self-satisfied one. “Like how I gave you the idea for the custom bike business.”

Red billows from my eyes. Are you kidding me? “You did not give me the idea,” I hiss.

“Didn’t I, though? Weren’t you talking about how to expand, and I mentioned the shop in Williamsburg was all the rage with its custom bikes? And you should try your hand at custom bikes? I said it one night when we were walking Baby .”

That. Name.

It’s a miracle I don’t blow a fuse right now. Inside, all my circuits are breaking. “It’s not an original fucking idea. It’s a normal thing.”

“It’s the thing in the specialized bike biz,” Zara adds.

Callie bobs a shoulder. “If you say so, but if you’re going to be difficult about sharing the profits, Milo, I can just have my attorney handle this. He’ll be in touch,” she says, then spins on her sneakered feet and walks out in a cloud of perfume and trickery.

When the door slams shut, Zara closes the distance and cups my shoulders. “She’s trying to scare you,” Zara says, calm and reassuring. “Don’t let her.”

I grit my teeth. “I won’t,” I bite out.

But Callie’s plan is working. I am fucking scared.

I turn my gaze to Veronica, who’s busying herself spraying the flowers with water.

Veronica came up with so many new ideas for my flower business.

She’s not like Callie. Not one bit. I know that in my heart, and yet, I have no good instincts. I trusted Callie enough to move in with her, to share a home with her, to fall for her.

“Excuse me,” I say, and I leave, then walk around the block, once, twice, three times, trying to chase the onslaught of terrible thoughts away.

When I return, the clock ticking perilously close to Rio’s pickup time, I zoom in on work. I finish the job with blinders on. As I’m polishing the handlebars and chewing on my own stupidity, Veronica comes over to me, a soft, sympathetic look in her eyes. “Is it easier for you if we just . . . call it good? With the list?”

No. Hell no.

And yet, some of my tension seeps away at the question. “You sure?”

She nods. “It’s been fun, but it sounds like you should just focus on your business right now.”

She’s so earnest. So real. And I am so in love with her that I don’t trust myself not to fuck up everything I’ve built.

“That’s probably a good idea,” I say, right as Rio comes in.

I turn away from Veronica, stride up to him, shake his hand. “It’s all ready.”

He’s all smiles. “I knew I could count on you,” he says.

That makes only one of us.