2. Anthony
CHAPTER 2
anthony
My workers let out a low whistle when I showed up this morning at one of our kitchen remodeling sites with hickeys all over my neck. I simply shook my head when they made sly comments about it. After I broke up with my ex last year, I hadn’t felt the need for casual sex until now.
This was the longest I had ever had a dry spell. Not because I couldn’t get myself a woman, but because I wasn’t a single bit bothered by it. Most men would’ve gone crazy by now, but I think part of what kept my sanity in check all year long was how busy I had been. Our general contracting business’s revenue last year to this year had more than doubled thanks to the hard work of our crew, teams, and our clients’ good word of mouth.
As far as I was aware, my dad and me were running a four-million-dollar general contracting business enterprise all over Sunset Valley. We worked on personal to commercial renovations and remodeling and always had multiple ongoing projects throughout the year. I had been so invested in growing my dad’s business that I put anything and everything remotely romantic or sexual on the back burner.
All until I saw Amanda the other night at the brewery. She was beautiful and incredibly sexy, and this man couldn’t pass her over. It helped that she was only here on a short trip, and we both knew things were going to end the moment she got on the plane back to Miami. I had a great three-night fuck fest and, although it was undeniably hot and heavy, I was almost glad it was all over.
The longer I was single, the more I realized that perhaps things were just better this way. I was a busy man with a huge and lofty goal in mind for the company. I had little to no time to add dating into the mix of all of this. I suppose to Shoua it seemed a bit unusual for me to suddenly have the urge for a three-night stand when I wasn’t the typical man to do so. Truth was this: I just wanted to have sex with an attractive woman.
I was outside the large countryside home site where my crew was knocking out the dry wall in the kitchen to expand it. I was on the phone with my mom and away from the ruckus, under the hot and beating sun.
She was reminding me to come home for dinner tomorrow and about how her college friend was arriving later tonight for a month-long visit. I made a quick mental note of how much I was going to dread this entire month. Thank god it was an amazing Monday because I wasn’t going to feel this good for a while.
“Anthony, make sure you bring flowers for Sue tomorrow when you come home for dinner,” my mom said. “Make sure you get a colorful bouquet, all right? Sue hates white flowers.”
For the last few years, Aunt Sue and my mom would alternate and visit each other for a month during the summer. It all started after Aunt Sue’s divorce when she desperately needed an anchor and my mom offered to be that for her. They were good friends in college when they were the only two Hmong students in their French language program.
Aunt Sue and my mom’s summer visits is usually a month-long stay at one another’s home. They spend that time catching up with each other and spending time together. This year was supposed to be my mom’s year visit her in Minnesota. But Aunt Sue insisted on visiting Sunset Valley again .
I have nothing against Aunt Sue, and it wasn’t her I was dreading. It was the fact that she had been on a decade-long mission to matchmake either my twin, Andy, or me with her daughter.
“Okay, okay. I won’t get the same white roses as I did last year,” I mumbled.
My mom almost chucked a plate in my face when I showed up for dinner with plain white roses for Aunt Sue when she visited last year with her daughter, Evelyn. I didn’t think much of it when I grabbed the flowers since I was exhausted and in a rush. I was late to dinner, and I knew my mom would be on my ass for it. Because of that, I literally gave my mom’s friend some dying bouquet of roses that she clearly hated but was too nice to say so.
To make matters worse, Aunt Sue absolutely despised white flowers and I didn’t know this. Apparently to her, flowers should be “ bright and full of color .” I learned of this only after I handed her the bouquet as Evelyn raised her brows at me. She found an offense in it, although I meant no harm.
“Ask Shoua to go with you to pick out a nice bouquet. She always has great taste,” my mom said.
“Mom, that’s too much of a hassle. Can’t you just trust me with this?” I asked. My face still heated up from my careless act last year. What happened embarrassed me to hell and back.
She sighed heavily.
“Remember what Evelyn said to me after you left that day? She remarked that you’d have a great eye for the wreaths for her mom’s funeral .”
“I’m sure she meant that as a joke,” I countered. Or maybe not. This was Evelyn we were talking about.
“Regardless, just get a nice bouquet. Please, Anthony?” She used her pleading, gentle mom voice. My mom always knew what to do or say to get the best of Andy and me.
“Fine, I’ll ask Shoua to go to the grocery store later to help me pick out something nice.”
“Thank you, baby.”
“ Mom —”
“I know, you’re an adult, sweetie. But I can’t help still call you and your brother this when you two make me happy. You’re both still my babies, all right?”
I let out a long breath. With a softer voice, I answered, “I know.”
“I’ll let you go now.”
“Okay. Talk to you later. Bye.”
Once I got off the phone with my mom, I immediately called Shoua.
“Hey, do you have time later? My mom’s asking you to help me pick out a bouquet for Aunt Sue. I don’t want to deal with this tomorrow when I’m rushing to my parents’ place for dinner. It’s already a hassle that she doesn’t trust me.”
“Can you blame her? You literally gave her friend a death bouquet last year and those roses were ugly too.”
“Hey! They were . . . nice .”
Shoua’s light chuckle came through the phone like a soft wind chime. “No, they weren’t. They were dying.”
“Shuddaup! It was an accident!” I groaned, my cheeks still burning. “Are you helping me or not?”
“What happened to you being little miss sunshine today?” I could practically hear the smug, little smile I knew she was wearing through the phone.
I shook my head. “Just answer the question, Shoua.”
“Do you really need me to come with you? I think you’ll do fine without me. It’s just flowers.”
“That’s what I thought too until I grabbed flowers that apparently remind everyone of funerals and death.”
“True, you fucked up without even trying.” She let out a small snicker. “Fine. I’ll go with you. But I might not be home until seven p.m. Is that all right with you?”
I pursed my lips. “You’re only showing two homes later. It shouldn’t take you four hours.”
She let out a long sigh. “I have to stop by my parents’ house. My mom wants me to pick up the extra veggies and watermelons she has in her garden. You know how my mom can be at times when I go back home. Sometimes she’s chatty, but other times she can be vicious. There’s no in between.”
Shoua and me have been close friends since high school, and I’ve never known her and her mom to have the best relationship. But they were cordial most of the time. They often didn’t see eye to eye on things and that left their relationship sour.
“Why don’t I go with you? Your mom loves me, so I’m sure me being there would either tamper the bad mood she’s in or brighten her up,” I offered.
She snorted, but I could sense her hesitation. All before saying, “You sure?” in an achingly soft voice.
I hated it when she spoke like that. It often meant she was the most raw and vulnerable, which she usually was when it came to her mom and family.
Without hesitation, I answered, “Of course. I’ll always come running even if you don’t need me.”