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Josie sighs, spinning in my arms to look up at me. “I did. I didn’t know how badly I needed to hear my mom apologize, but when she did, it felt like this weight was lifted off my chest, like it was the final piece holding me back.”
I lean down, kissing her gently. “It makes sense that you needed that. I’m so proud of you.”
She kisses me back, arms wrapping around my neck. She hops up, wrapping her legs around my waist, and I catch her, my hands gripping her ass. “Take me to bed, Andrew,” she whispers.
“You don’t have to tell me twice, petals.”
32
JOSIE
Against my better judgment, I hired the girl who seemed less intrigued by the position, but had better availability. Andrew tried to talk me out of it, and at this moment, I really should have listened to him.
I shouldn’t have hired Brooklyn. That fact is currently being proven to me for the third time today. The first was when she was thirty minutes late for the time I told her to be here. The second, when she asked me if I thought she should take a selfie with one of the groomsmen to make her on and off again boyfriend jealous.
The third is right now. We’re at Meadow Grove Winery for the wedding, and I asked her to run and find an extra pair of scissors for me since mine broke. It doesn’t help that my period started this morning, ruining my sheets and favorite pajamas set. Andrew willingly helped me clean up, but it didn’t ease the embarrassment I felt. I’m crabby as all get out, and feeling ready to burst into tears at any possible moment, because seriously, it shouldn’t take twenty five minutes to find a pair of scissors.
Ignoring the cramps low in my stomach and my bubbling irritation for this nineteen year old girl, I continue to arrange the vases in the reception area. The bouquets are ready and prepped, as well as the corsages and boutonnieres. I’m waiting to hear from the photographer about when they want them brought over. It should be any minute, and I could really use Brooklyn’s hands so I don’t have to take as many trips out to the gazebo they’re taking pictures in.
Finally, she walks through the double doors, spinning the scissors around her pointer finger. “There you are,” I say, trying to keep my voice level. “What took so long?”
Brooklyn runs a hand through her stick straight blonde hair. “I was hiding.”
“You were hiding?”
“Yeah. One of the busboys is a guy I hooked up with a few weeks ago, and it was so bad, like gag in your mouth bad, so I hid in one of the utility closets till he went away.” She nonchalantly drops this factoid on me, as if I’m supposed to just accept it, and move on.
“Brooklyn, I needed these like twenty minutes ago. You could have hid by grabbing the scissors and coming back in here. You didn’t have to hide in a closet.”
She tilts her head to the side. “Um, I’m pretty sure I did. You have no idea how bad it was. I mean, his dick was like two inches too short, and there was no motion in the ocean, if you know what I mean.” She winks, then heads over to the table where I have the extra vases waiting.
I hold back the mini temper tantrum I want to throw, taking a minute to collect myself. My phone buzzes in my pocket at the perfect moment. The photographer is ready for us.
“Brooklyn, I need your help with bringing the bouquets and everything to the gazebo,” I call, waving her over. She surprisingly does this without complaint, the first time all day.
Reaching the gazebo, I organize the arrangements on the wood benches, thankful it’s an enclosed gazebo so the wind doesn’t take any of the flowers for a ride. Brooklyn flops down onto one of the benches, leaning back and crossing her legs.
I inwardly sigh. The photographer shows up a moment later with the bride and the bridal party. I greet them, then pass out bouquets, internally cursing Brooklyn for sitting there, not helping at all.
The bride can’t stop hugging and thanking me for how perfect the flowers are, and how I helped make her vision come to life. When the girls are all taken care of, it’s time for the boys. Of course, this is when Brookyln perks up and starts helping. She pins boutonnieres on as many men as she can, flirting with each and every one of them. Never mind the fact that all of these men are at least ten to fifteen years older than her, but who am I to judge? Maybe she’s got a thing for older men.
Once the groom and groomsmen are on their merry way, I corral Brooklyn, and we head back into the venue to finish up. As soon as we walk in the doors, Brooklyn stops me.
“Hey, listen, I’m really sorry, but I don’t think this is working out,” she says. She pats my forearm as if she’s the one firing me. “I thought there would be more of an opportunity to flirt with guys, and maybe hook up with some hot groomsmen, but it’s not worth it.”
I’m stunned speechless, my eyes wide, brows raising all the way up to my hairline. “You’re quitting?” I ask.
“Yeah. I’ll take my hundred bucks now.” She holds out her palm, waiting for me to drop cash into it.
I scoff. “You aren’t getting the full payment, seeing as you only worked for maybe an hour total. In fact, you made my job about ten times harder than it needed to be today.” I stalk over to where my bag sits against a wall, and dig through it for a bit of cash. “Here’s thirty bucks. That’s all I’m offering. Take it or leave it.”
She swipes the crumpled cash from my palm, and stomps out the door. When the door shuts behind her, I let out a sigh. To be honest, I feel better now that she’s not here. I feel like I can actually accomplish my job, instead of having to babysit her. I pull my phone out to text Andrew before I get back to work.
Me
You win. She lasted two hours before demanding her payment and walking out. I’m texting the other gal tomorrow, begging for forgiveness.
Andrew
