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Cali
My stomach lurchesas I take another bite of my cranberry muffin. I fold the rest into the wrapper, tuck it into my lunch bag, and pop it into the fridge. I hear the chime of the front door opening.
Back to work…
Stepping from the Dirty Hoes staff room, I come out behind the check-out.
Mari putters around near the front of the store, placing some pots on a shelf in the window. “Sold one of these yesterday!” she calls out and looks back at me. I’m not going to confirm that I was the lucky recipient.
She crouches down enough to look at the pots straight on, one eye shut and tongue poking out the corner of her mouth as she makes sure they’re absolutely perfect. I’m happy she’s the one who got mother’s obsessive perfectionism.
My mind wanders to thoughts of the night prior as I wait for Mari to approach. The look on Quill’s face when I rushed him out the door was one of genuine surprise and hurt, but I didn’t know what to say after that speech he gave.
Was I seriously hisfirst? I can’t see why any guy would lie about that, it’s not exactly a source of bragging rights. He sure had some incredible skills for someone with no experience, though.
Maybe he’s watched a lot of dirty movies.
I sigh at myself. Or maybe he’s a genuinely nice guy who was too busy focusing on school and becoming an ophthalmologist to have time for women and relationships. Maybe his life keeps him from moving ahead in relationships too.
A pang of guilt strikes me when I think about the pained look on his face. The heartbroken sheen to his eyes flashes through my mind as I think of the night we spent together.
Virgin or not, the time I spent with Quill topped the charts. Sweet, funny, caring, and seems to have a good head on his shoulders… So what's the gnawing feeling in the pit of my stomach holding me back?
Guilt, Cali. You’re way too busy running this place to have time for man-drama. Let it go.
“Hey!” Mari says as she walks up to me. “You feelin’ okay? You looked a little zoned out there.”
“I’m fine,” I offer quickly. “What are you doing here?”
“Uh, last I checked I work here,” Mari snaps.
“Yeah, but you’re three hoursearlyfor your shift. You’reneverearly for your shift.”
She holds up her hands. “I thought maybe my little sister could use a break today. Why don’t you take the afternoon off and enjoy yourself? It’s beautiful outside today. Maybe there’s someone you could spend the day with?”
I shake my head. “You don’t get it, Mari. I can’t just take off all willy-nilly whenever I feel like it. This place would be in shambles without me here to run it.”
Mari’s arms fold tightly across her chest. “Is that so? And what am I, chopped liver? You make it sound like I don’t do anything around here, Cali.”
I walk out from behind the counter and down the aisle to where we keep the orchids. I didn’t ask Quill how many he wanted for his office, so I take a wild guess based on his office space and pick out five of the best. Good shape. Great colors. Some blooming, some not. Variety that will make an impact.
Like he’s impacted me.
“I didn’t mean it like that, Mari. I know you’re busy with the kids after all you guys have been through, that’s all. And one of us needs to keep this place afloat.”
“You don’t have to do everything by yourself just because I’ve been going through some tough times,” Mari says, following me around the shop as I take the orchids back to the counter and start picking out a box for them and writing up an invoice to hand to Quills’ front desk admin. “You justthinkyou do because you don’t trust anyone!” her voice escalates and my heart clip-clops in my chest, faster and faster.
“That’s such an unfair dig after all I’ve done for this place!” My voice is high and frantic.
We both stop and look when we hear the front door chime, watching Mimi as she enters.
“It’s not that I don’t trust people, Mari. I just want what’s best for this place,” I hiss under my breath.
“And what about what’s best for you?” Her eyes gleam with seriousness as she stares down her nose at me. Although I was blessed with all the shape and curves, Mari’s the one who was blessed with height.
“Where’s Zetty?” I ask, noticing the delivery van through the front window.
“Coming in late. She had a doctor’s appointment.”
