Chapter 28
Denny
Angel of my life…
My body, my blood, my soul…
All are yours.
— Victor Hugo, The Hunchback of Notre Dame
With December approaching fast, Denny was buzzing to hit the Yuletide switch and turn the shop and the flat into winter wonderlands. She had big plans: her goal was to give Eris the cosiest, happiest Christmas of her life.
It was a peculiar mid-November day for London, cold, but with a bright sun shining in a strikingly cerulean sky.
The winds that had been sweeping the streets for the past few days had left the air crystal clear, a rarity for Londoners, who loitered outside way more gladly than they normally would on an average autumn day.
Denny had plenty of reasons to be happier than any of them.
The cheerful mood fuelled her through the manic morning.
There were a few moments when the shop felt too small to contain all the people that squeezed in and a few times Denny caught herself fumbling in the chaos of too many voices overlapping around her.
But days like this were gold for business and she wasn’t going to let a bit of stress get in the way.
Dazzling sunshine poured in through the shop windows, bringing out the colours of her flowers and plants like her beloved rainy days could never do.
The suncatcher on the door shone like a gem, flecks of light sprinkled in rainbows all over the floor.
Denny couldn’t stop staring at iridescent gleams. They were a good omen, she knew they were.
“You’re losing it over a piece of glass.”
Startled, Denny looked around. She found Eris watching her with crossed arms and a smitten grin she wasn’t even attempting to conceal.
“And you’re losing it over me losing it over a piece of glass.”
Eris scoffed. “I’m always losing it over you.”
With her, everything was more bearable. Sometimes, when things got overwhelming, just having Eris there gave Denny the strength to spruce up her Customer Service Poise and keep going, even when she was barely keeping herself together under the surface. Eris saw through that and understood.
Today was one of those days.
When the last customer left with every single rose left in the shop, she arched backwards to stretch her sore spine. A few vertebrae popped.
Eris planted Denny’s purple bottle on the counter. The motivational notch marking the water level at the bottom said: ‘Almost there!’
“Need a break?”
Denny checked the time on the cash register and denied. “We’re closing soon.”
Half an hour wasn’t unmanageable.
Hopefully.
She chugged down the last of her morning water. Her migraines had almost entirely disappeared since Eris had started nagging her about drinking more.
Outside, Rocco was huffing and puffing while loading a huge snake plant to the van, to Eris’ great amusement. There were ten more to go. Denny hoped there would be someone to help him unload them at the hotel who had requested them.
She sighed. “Can you give him a hand, please?”
Eris grimaced. “I’d rather do it alone.”
“I’d rather do it alone!” Rocco shouted through the open door. A colourful Italian curse came right after.
“We don’t have all day, Dumbo!”
“I’m fed up with your bickering!” Denny dragged Eris outside, pointing a finger at Rocco before he could protest. “Don’t make me put you in a get-along t-shirt! Plants. Now. Together.”
Rocco threw his head back with a groan, but didn’t argue any further. He looked at Eris with a shrug. “Hai sentito il capo.”
“è difficile non sentirla.”
An electric tingle ran up Denny’s back and down her arms. She was afraid she’d never get used to Eris speaking another language in such a cute accent.
“Making fun of me in Italian… I guess it’s a start.”
‘Together’ ended up being Eris loading the plants while Rocco secured them for safe transportation. In the meantime Denny filled Mira with fresh bouquets and prepared a couple of deliveries for Rocco to drop off on his way to the hotel.
At 12:20, minutes away from lunch break, Denny was sending out a couple of orders for her depleted stocks while Eris swept the floor from the leaves that the wind had blown in.
This was the life Denny had always dreamed: beautiful simple things and someone to share them with.
The door burst open.
Denny jumped, the phone nearly slipping out of her hands.
A white storm rushed in, filling the shop with a sweet vanilla fragrance.
“How? How did you do this?!”
Blake slammed a pile of photos on the counter. It was the ones from Micah’s detective, way more than the few Denny had seen.
Eris immediately tensed. Denny sent her a warning look and picked up the photos, tidying them up into a neat pile before pushing them towards Blake.
“Lucky strike.”
“You couldn’t know—”
Without her usual makeup, Blake appeared sick, puffy grey circles under her eyes. Denny couldn’t remember ever seeing her so dishevelled.
“We didn’t. But sometimes luck helps good people.” Denny surreptitiously met Eris’ eyes across the room, just for a second. She let the words hang, relishing the scorn they painted across Blake’s features.
A manicured hand slammed down on the photos.
“Just tell me! Tell me how the fuck you did this!”
Denny latched onto that rage. She took it, rolled it around her little finger, and answered with the same condescendence with which Blake would once have answered her.
“I’d told you to stay away from her.” She said instead, her placid tone edging into condescension. No reply came. Her head tilted. “How’s that box seat feeling, Blake?”
The corners of Blake’s mouth bent downward. She turned to raise a contemptuous leer on Eris. She stepped forward, getting so close that Denny was genuinely afraid Eris might lash out. But she didn’t, and that only pissed off Blake even more.
“You ruined my sweet Denny,” she hissed.
Eris’ eyes narrowed. She was calm, but she had never looked so threatening and terrifying.
“I promise you she did the hard work all by herself.”
All Denny could see was Blake’s back, unnaturally immobile. It was like waiting for a lion to strike.
Eris wasn’t looking at Blake. She was looking at Denny, just as immobile. The smile reflected in her eyes caused a warm ripple within Denny’s chest.
After a long moment of stasis, Blake rolled her shoulders back, chin jutted out as she stood back, gaze shifting from Eris to Denny.
“You’d better put a muzzle on your bitch,” she spat with a hand on the door.
“It’s alright.” Denny’s lips amiably curved upward. “She only bites me.”
Blake’s neck flared red. She ripped the door open, lingering on the threshold to scrape one final loathful glare on them.
“You two deserve each other.”
The door shut with way more force than necessary. The suncatcher rattled on the glass but stayed in place, beautiful and unyielding.
Denny released the breath she’d been holding.
The last bridge to a rotting island had crashed. She didn’t dare to rejoice yet, but Blake’s final line had sounded like spiteful surrender. However it ended with the lawyers, Denny had a feeling that Blake would never come looking for her again.
She didn’t realise Eris was behind her until she felt her arms around her waist.
“That was so hot, Gardenia.”
Soft lips touched her neck. She basked in the sensation, leaning her head to the side to allow more room for Eris’ ministrations.
“How do I get you to wipe that name from your memory?”
A hum vibrated against her skin. Pointy teeth grazed down the crook of her neck, leaving a trail of goosebumps. “I can think of a thing or two that would do the trick.”
The hoarse undertone of Eris’ murmur ghosted down Denny’s body like a caress. She felt it between her legs, a hot spark that took her breath away. All because Eris had barely touched her.
She let out a raspy giggle. “Yeah, maybe not with the shop still open.”
“Killjoy.”
Eris’ arms fell away way more pliantly than Denny had anticipated. She had to adjust to the loss, shaking off the disappointment while Eris closed the shop.
Upstairs, Eris immediately wiggled out of her jeans. Anything that wasn’t light and stretchy was a no-no at home.
“Can’t believe that bitch had the nerve to show up. Her face when you put her in her place…”
The words slipped past Denny before she could even attempt to grasp them. Eris’ proud grin was all her senses could focus on. That, and her bare legs. Both reminded Denny of the wet patch that still tingled on her neck.
Eris drew Denny to herself with a searching gaze.
“Lost in your own world?”
Denny felt it in her soul—the sympathy, the gentleness of the question.
She’d been asked that same question a thousand times before, never so respectfully.
‘Lost in your world’ was usually an euphemism to call her out on her ditsiness.
Eris somehow managed to make it sound like a phrase of endearment.
“What’s bothering you?”
“I’m fine.” Denny stared at the ground. She didn’t know what her feelings were doing. Having the best on Blake had given her a rush of adrenaline that her body didn’t seem to know how to channel.
“You’re not fine,” huffed Eris. “You feel like a wire ready to sn—”
Denny pulled her into a graceless kiss that filled her mouth with a surprised gasp. She couldn’t control the violence of it despite the tenderness of the sentiment that had spurred it.
Too much feeling.
Too much love.
It had to go somewhere.
Eris braced against Denny’s chest as they stumbled backwards.
When her back hit the wall, Denny hoisted her up to pin her up to it.
Denny couldn’t stop. Every time she tried to get a grip on herself, she ended up chasing Eris’ lips more hungrily.
Her hands slipped under the hoodie, rising from Eris’ hips to seek the heat of soft flesh and the taut muscle beneath.
When Eris locked her legs around her waist and her arms around her neck, Denny forgot how to breathe altogether.
“Getting comfortable with your horny fever?” Eris panted. Her bare thighs burned through the layers of fabric. Denny craved that skin on her own. No barrier, no filter.
“Comfortable,” she panted back, “isn’t the adjective I’d use.”