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No one turns down Diego Ernesto Fernando Hernandez for a date. You will learn this soon enough, mi reina.
“Whoa,” I murmured, pulling back in surprise as my eyebrows shot up. This note had a different tone to it than the others had. An ominous, do-as-I-say-or-pay-the-consequences kind of tone. A threatening tone.
All because I’d pricked his stupid, macho pride and said no.
“What a douche,” I muttered aloud and tossed his pompous note in the trash, even as a chill of dread raced up the back of my spine, because what if he really did become violent just because I turned him down?
Picking up the bouquet, I was about to toss them too, but the teen girl at the booth I’d just waited on said, “At least the flowers are pretty.”
I glanced at her, lifting an eyebrow. “You want them?”
Her eyes lit up. I knew she was about to accept, but the boy sitting across from her, lifted his hands, halting her. “I wouldn’t,” he advised. “He probably laced the petals with anthrax, because she’s such a bi—”
“Excuse me,” I cut in, waving at him before he could call me something nasty and regretful. “You know I can hear you, right? And I’m going to be the one to serve you that shake you just ordered? You should probably watch what you call me.”
He glanced at me and winced.
Wow. I rolled my eyes once more and turned away, the roses still in my hand. Before I trashed them, however, I spotted the name of the flower shop they had come from on a small oval golden sticker stuck to the ribbon that was holding the bouquet together.
Rosewood.
Hmm.
With five minutes left on my shift, I hurried through fixing that shake for the teens. Then I plopped a cherry in the whipped topping and strolled toward them with a huge, beaming smile.
“One hot fudge lovers’ shake with two straws,” I announced, expressing way more cheer and friendliness than I usually did as I carefully set the dessert on the table between them so I wouldn’t spill anything.
The boy lurched backward away from it as if it were infected or full of spit. It wasn’t, but I had to admit it brightened my day to make him think so. When the girl glanced up at me uneasily, I sent her a wink.
Her lips twitched into a secret grin before she leaned forward and took a big sip through the straw.
My replacement for the day finally arrived then, with no time to spare. I took a few minutes to catch her up-to-date on the current customers, and then I whipped my apron away from my waist, officially off the clock.
Thank God. One day down. Just the rest of my life to go.
I walked toward Miguel’s school to pick him up from the after-school program. Along the way, I called the local police station, but as soon as I explained my situation to the woman who answered, she said, “So you want to file a complaint against a guy giving you too many flowers?”
Flushing, I muttered, “Never mind,” and hung up as fast as I could.
So, yep, I definitely wasn’t going to go to the police about Diego. They’d laugh me right out of the precinct.
I glanced at the sticker on the bouquet’s ribbon again. Rosewood. Hmm. If Diego didn’t listen and stop bringing me flowers, maybe these people at Rosewood might be convinced to stop selling them to him. It was something to consider, anyway.
As soon as Miguel spotted me approaching with the roses in my arms, he snickered.
“Diego? Again?”
Shaking his head, he hiked his book bag over his shoulder and coughed as he exited the metal gate from the schoolyard to meet me on the sidewalk.
With a frown, I reached out and set my hand against his brow to check for a fever. He looked sweaty and shrunken in, as if he were feeling bad. Dammit, I had sent him back to school too soon, hadn’t I? He’d been so miserable on Saturday night. Of course, it would take more than a little Tylenol, chicken noodle soup, and a day to bounce back after that.
Shit, I was an awful sister.
But he didn’t feel hot. And he sent me a harassed, irritated look before shifting his face away and strolling off, leaving me behind.
Pushing my concern aside, I hurried after him and muttered, “I told him to stop. It’s not like I want his attention.”
“Then why did you keep the flowers?” he taunted, sending me a teasing leer.
