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“I think so.” His hand comes up and strokes down my hair, lulling me into the dark, deep depths of sleep waiting for me if only I could let my mind relax. “My grandma always said, be kind, and be wise. Don’t let your pride decide the course of your life. I didn’t get that when I was younger, but I’ve learned to chill out as I got older. A lot of stuff you can’t control. Life often deals people complete garbage, and I know how lucky I’ve been. I’m going to make the most of it. I know you’ll make the best of it too. I know that you’re always making the best of it. Even if you own a boutique, but always wanted to be a writer. You could always do that on the side.”
“I’m never going to live down that rant, am I?” I say it like I’m annoyed, but I’m smiling.
“I’m never going to live down the ball bagging I took either, so we’re even. We might as well do the not living down thing together. And a nap. We could do that together too.”
I finally shut off all the thoughts and worries that I’m usually bombarded with. I shut my eyes and listen to Daniel’s steady breaths, his heartbeat pounding not too far from me cheek. They’re all the sheep I need to count, those measured, even, calming sounds.
I’m back to not worrying about anything, at least for now. It’s nice. It’s really, really freaking nice. I should do it more often. Not worrying. Honestly, I think I’ll try it. Especially if it starts out like this, happens like this, and ends like this.
Chapter 13
Daniel
“Are you freaking kidding me? Bagged by a cactus? Which cactus?”
Shandra, one of my greenhouse employees sighs so hard into the phone it sounds like she’s using it in place of a paper bag. “I don’t know. That big one. The biggest one with the long spines.”
“Right in the middle of that row of big ones?” My happy stick and bag of fun ache just thinking about the bastard.
“Yeah. That’s the one. How did you know?”
I grunt to smother a groan. I didn’t even believe in curses until I met Leandra, and that’s saying something considering how much wild stuff goes on here in New Orleans and I’m NOLA born and bred. She insists that her curse is one for the better, and I believe her. That cactus? Nope. It’s cursed alright, but not for the best. That thing needs to be taken out into the dessert and planted where it can’t hurt anyone.
“Uhhhh, Mr. Parton are you still there?”
“Yeah, sorry.” I start pacing my office, downtown, where I was working on budgets and planning upcoming meetings- boring stuff- when Shandra called. “I’m here. I- do you need me to come down there?”
“I think so. We sent Jacob to the hospital, but he might be- erm- arghghgh- maimed for life.”
I could tell her that from experience, I think he’ll be fine, but I’m not sure how hard that bloody bastard boobytrapped cactus got him. Maybe he won’t be fine. My package winces in sympathy. And in embarrassment. There’s no way that I want to confess to taking that bloody thing in my arse cheek and then in my package. I’d rather not discuss that with my twenty-something year old employee who happens to be female. That would be entirely inappropriate aside from being humiliating.
I make a mental note to find out what hospital and make sure that Jacob’s okay. If he has to stay overnight, I’ll send flowers and a huge basket of something fun. Like chocolate. Not that it would make up for getting one’s happy stick turned into an angry, dysfunctional, barely functioning, wilted angry stick.
“There’s blood,” Shandra gasps, dragging my attention back to the phone call. “Not a lot, but there is some. We’re all scared to go in there. It’s nasty. Jacob was watering and I guess he wasn’t paying that much attention. We all know that they’re pokey and we all signed forms saying we wouldn’t sue if we did get maimed, but it’s terrifying. I didn’t think anything would actually happen.”
“No, of course not. I’m coming. I can be there in an hour, since traffic is probably jammed right now.”
“Thanks, Mr. Parton. That’s amazing. Should I send everyone home for the day or just keep that one greenhouse locked up so no one can go in there?”
“If you want to lock it, that would be great. I’ll deal with the clean up and I’ll get rid of that horrible cactus.”
“But- but- that’s an expensive one,” Shandra says in disbelief. “We could put it up for sale for half price or something. At least get something back for it.”
I appreciate her concern, I really do. I also know that I can’t really tell her it’s cursed. Or at least that I think it’s cursed. “After I clean up, I’ll give it away for free to someone. I’m sure if I stick it on a local classifieds site, it will be gone right away. Someone else can deal with it. it will be a write off anyway, so I don’t mind the loss.”
