Chapter 2 #2
“It’s my day off,” she growled. “I have a lunch date in twenty minutes, and I got interrupted to come deal with you!”
Caelan. “Simone, this is not my fault.”
“I don’t care whose fault it is! You know what I want?”
“Um,” I said again.
“I want hot tomato soup from that great cafe around the corner.” Her nostrils flared.
“And bread, for fuck’s sake. Delicious, crusty, buttered bread.
The real butter. Not that shit humans disguise as butter and pretend to like.
And coffee. A cup of glorious, freshly ground dark roast. And maybe cake.
Coconut. Or chocolate. I don’t even give a shit. Just cake. Any cake.”
I blinked at her, nonplussed. “Can’t you get that at the Keep?”
All that did was piss her off. “No. Can you believe that shit? Ever since that bitch Gianna showed up, the entire menu changed, and now all we get is meat and veggies. Maybe a piece of fruit.”
“It’s been months,” Moira said. “He hasn’t changed it yet?”
Simone’s hand jerked downward in a harsh slicing motion. “No. And he won’t let me! He keeps saying he’ll get to it.” She reached across my worktable and grabbed me by the shirt collar, jerking me halfway across the table “Has a man ever gotten to anything in a timely manner?”
“Err. No?” I squeaked. Not once had I seen the Omega with a hair out of place. She was always calm, cool, and completely collected. Not this well-dressed harridan in my face.
Blue eyes locked onto my soul. “I beg of you, Evie. Bend on this. Just this once. So I can get carbs and sugar and good coffee.” Her voice was a desperate, shrill whisper.
“What part?”
Simone’s eyes closed. “You know what part.” She let go of me. “You aren’t going to, are you?” Her nostrils flared as she tilted her head up to stare at my ceiling. I could almost hear her counting in her head. “Why must you antagonize me so?”
Moira barked a laugh.
Simone sent her a withering glare. “And you are a born instigator. Why can’t either of you bend?”
“It’s a matter of principle,” Moira said simply.
“Your Shifter Lord will bend on everything except for Evie. He’ll throw money at her, give her whatever earthly desire she might want, but when it comes to setting boundaries, Caelan stomps all over them like a bully on the beach when they see a sandcastle. ”
Simone’s shoulders slumped. She neither agreed nor disagreed. “What can I say or do to get you to show up tonight?”
Moira slid a look my way and jerked her head toward the kitchen.
“Give us a second, would you?” I asked.
Simone sighed. “Whatever gets me out of here and gets my face in a bowl of soup.”
Moira took my arm and led me toward the kitchen doors. Once we were inside, she leaned in.
“Simone looks like she needs to be committed. Maybe we should give her something.”
“I won’t cave on this one.”
“What about one order max on a quarterly basis?”
“Four per year?” I frowned. “Feels like too much.”
“Start at the absolute least you’ll accept. He’ll bargain you down. Can you deal with three?”
I grimaced.
“Two?”
Reasonable as long as my intrusive thoughts didn’t run away from me and make me worry about those visits for the entire year. “Seems doable. Once every six months. No Keep weddings, nothing I have to attend.”
“He’ll bargain for that, too.”
“You really think I should bend?”
“For Simone. Not Caelan. The girl needs bread.”
We laughed. “Alright. Let’s do it for the bread.”
Simone paced back and forth, stopping abruptly when she saw us. “Well?”
“One order per year. No Keep weddings. No events where my presence is required. The previously agreed rates and everything else we discussed prior to your visit stand.”
Simone’s lips thinned, but she held a finger up. “Hold that thought.”
With admirable speed, the Omega’s fingers flew over her cell as she typed a message out, presumably to Caelan.
“Four per year. He agreed to no weddings but wants to reserve the option to have your presence at certain events.” Her eyes glittered with the thrill of a deal, but I was about to disappoint her.
“Two. No weddings. Attendance at one event only, no more than half an hour of my time billed at quadruple the rate.”
Simone’s eyes flickered with disappointment. “Evie. Caelan isn’t bad.”
“No one said he was,” Moira blurted before I could open my mouth.
“Then why are you treating him like he is?” Her fingers flew over the phone keyboard as she typed the message.
“Again, this goes back to personal boundaries and how your Shifter Lord likes to pretend he’s the Lord of the Dance when he gets close to one.”
Moira barked a laugh.
Simone sucked in a breath a second later, slowly shaking her head as she lifted her gaze. “The Lord has agreed to your terms.”
Moira blinked in surprise. “Holy shit,” she murmured.
Simone held up her finger. “Caveat.”
Of course there was. I waited.
“This event does not count toward that number.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but Moira shoved me so hard I almost fell over. “Agreed!” she blurted.
Simone’s face fell in relief. “Thank the gods,” she muttered. The Omega took a moment to rummage through her bag, pulling out a familiar document a few moments later.
“You carry contracts for lunch dates?” I asked.
“Only when there’s a pain in the ass Floromancer my Shifter Lord loves to bargain with,” she muttered. Simone snapped the pen’s plunge, flipped to the second page and scribbled something down, muttering under her breath.
When she finished, she shoved the pen and paper at me. “Everything’s there. Read over everything, initial in the right blocks, and please sign on the damn line.”
Moira chuckled. “You really want that soup.”
“I’d stab someone in the jugular for that soup,” she huffed.
Much to Simone’s annoyance, I read over the entire contract again, not trusting that Caelan hadn’t changed something, and double-checked Simone’s harried scribbles. After I confirmed everything, I took a deep breath, initialed the proper areas, and signed the contract.
Once again, I was a subcontractor for the Shifter Lord. But after this, I’d only have to deal with him twice a year. It was a win all the way around.
I’d barely picked up the pen from the paper when Simone snatched it away, shoved it into her bag, and breezed toward the door. “Nice doing business with you!” she called out as the bell jingled.
“If wolves could have a heart attack, she’d be the first one to go,” Moira observed.
“Could you imagine working for Caelan?” I shuddered. “Twenty-four hours a day?”
Moira shook her head. “That’s why I’m so glad I work for an undemanding Floromancer who keeps me supplied with tea and coffee.”
Two hours later, right when everyone was gone, and I was walking over to lock the shop, a courier pushed the door open and poked her head in.
“Evie Quinn?” she asked, double checking the name on the box.
My heart sped up. The size was familiar. How in the world…
“That’s me.”
I signed for the box and the courier left in a hurry, plunging the shop into silence.
You already had this made, I accused Caelan via text.
Unveiling the mysteries behind my methods takes the magic away, came the response.
I smiled despite my annoyance.
Have you opened it?
No. I’m finishing up the arrangements and have to load them in the van. It will have to be a surprise until I’m ready to get dressed because I’m running low on time.
Hold that thought.
I frowned, but when he didn’t send anything else, I tucked my phone into my pocket and put the final touches on the last spell.
All twelve arrangements sat snug in their boxes, their blooms and leaves waving in the breezeless room.
A smile touched my lips as I stroked the petal of a deep yellow calendula.
Caelan might be an ass sometimes, but he never forced me into a color palette or a design I hadn’t made.
He always let me run with things as I saw fit.
With that disturbing thought in my head, I picked up the first box and went to prop open the door. Three massive men stood on the curb, right by my van.
Nerves flooded me, but I opened the door with my foot. “Can I help you?” I called.
The first one, a tall blond wolf with a fuzzy five o’clock shadow on his face, stepped forward. “Miss Quinn?”
I had a bad feeling about this. “Yes?”
“We’re from the Keep. The Lord sent us to help you load.”
“Am I allowed to refuse?” I said grumpily.
Sympathy touched his smile. “No ma’am. Just direct us where you want us and we’ll take care of everything. We’ve been instructed to take the van straight to the Keep and unload it into the ballroom.”
“You’re not on my insurance.”
A dark-haired shifter stepped up then. “Ma’am, I’m the safest driver out of everyone. If something happens, the Shifter Lord will replace your van.”
“And then some,” the blond said.
Good grief. After an aggrieved sigh, I jerked my head.
“Here,” I said as I handed him the box. “The van is open. Don’t jostle any of the boxes and load them in the slots.
You’ll see what I’m talking about when you open the back.
They can’t be allowed to move around much.
Each arrangement is spelled, and I can’t risk it going off before the event. ”
The dark-haired shifter blanched. “Spelled?”
“Yes,” I said slowly. “I am a Floromancer. That’s what we do.”
The blond shifter elbowed him. “We understand. May I have your phone number so I can text you once we arrive safely at the Keep?”
Cute and thoughtful. “What’s your name?”
“Jericho, ma’am.” He jerked a thumb at the dark one. “That’s Mike, and the other one is Henry.”
“Nice to meet you. I’m Evie.”
Jericho’s eyes sparkled. “Yes, ma’am. We know who you are.”
The amusement in his voice didn’t bode well for what he’d heard of me. “Everything is on my worktable. Be careful with the surface and avoid bumping into anything. Some of the plants are temperamental.”
Jericho laughed in delight while the dark-haired one blinked. Henry had lighter brown hair and amber eyes, and not much of any kind of facial expression at all. I held the door open. “Straight back. You’ll see the table.”
In less than five minutes, every box and accessory was loaded, and Jericho held the keys. “I’ll treat it like my own, ma’am.”
I held up my index finger. “No. You’re far too young. Treat it like your mother’s.”
Jericho grinned. “Like my mother’s, then. I promise.”
When the van pulled away and a tanned hand waved out the window, I shook my head and went back inside to get my purse and the dress.
Before I pulled away from the curb, I sent Caelan a begrudging thank-you text.
Are you ill?
Funny.
I’ll see you in two hours, Evie.
My heart did a weird skip thump. I put my phone back into my purse and drove away.
It would be fine, right?
Who was I kidding? I was a walking disaster every time I stepped into the Keep.