Page 17 of Priceless
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah. Just picked up all the roses. Most of them are still closed, so they’ll be gorgeous on Saturday. There weren’t as many lavender ones as we ordered, but they replaced them with white. If we get them into some ink water they should be an okay replacement.”
Not ideal, but we’d made worse things work. And it wasn’t like I was there to insist the vendor give us what we asked for. The roses would soak up the dye from the water, and Sally would monitor to make sure they didn’t turn too dark. “That’s fine. I’m sending you an email with the last boutonniere. Nothing crazy. But if you guys need anything, let me know.”
I heard her car door shut over the phone. “I think we’ll be okay, but I wanted to make sure you’ll be there on Saturday? We’ve got all the plans, but you know you’re the one with the details in the brain. And you still have that thing I can never manage to do.”
My eyes rolled on instinct. Sally was my right-hand woman. Mainly because the work I could legally do thanks to my aunt and uncle was severely limited. I needed help to run my business, and honestly, I was lucky they even let me have one at all.
Sally insisted I had a way with the flowers in person that she didn’t, and that whenever I touched something, it looked better. It wasn’t true. She was just trying to keep me involved, but it was very sweet.
“You know I’ll be there. And you’re more than capable of making things look perfect.”
“Still,” she said. “We need our fearless leader.”
“Your fearless leader says to get those roses back to the workshop before they wilt in the back of your blazing hot minivan.”
A loud cackle came through the phone. “All right. I’ll check in after I make sure we have everything.”
“Thanks, Sally.”
I’m not sure how it got to be afternoon already, but it was. Hell, it was almost evening, and I didn’t even think I’d eaten today. My stomach growled at the thought, and I rolled my eyes. “So demanding,” I muttered.
But this worked out well. It was early enough that I could slip into the kitchen and eat something without anyone noticing, and avoid whatever dinner Laura and Frank had planned. If anything.
The days after a party they sometimes let me take a tray in my room.
Here was hoping.
The kitchen was blissfully empty, and it felt like a grilled cheese and tomato soup kind of day. I smiled when I saw there were two pieces of bread left, because that was perfect, and I never got so lucky.
Before I forgot, I added bread to the housekeeper’s list on the side of the fridge so she knew we were out. My headphones were still upstairs, so I hummed to myself as I heated up the tomato soup and grilled the sandwich to perfection. It smelled amazing.
“Michelle, I need a sandwich or something. I know we’re eating soon, but I was in the office all day and I’m starving.” My uncle strode into the kitchen expecting to see the cook, who wasn’t here. His face morphed into disdain. “What are you doing in here? And where’s Michelle?”
“I forgot to eat too. And I don’t know.”
He inhaled deeply, like he was keeping himself from reacting. “Right. Because you could ever forget to eat. Guess I’ll make myself a sandwich then. Though I don’t know why we’re paying for a cook when she’s not around to do her job.”
I was wincing before he even went to where the bread was stored, because I knew there wouldn’t be any. I turned off the stove and plated the sandwich quickly, putting the dishes where Michelle preferred I leave them.
Frank turned to me slowly. “Did you take the last of the bread?”
“I wrote it down for Isabel to get more.”
“We’ve had this discussion, Ocean. You don’t take something if there’s nothing left of it for anyone else. It’s selfish, rude, and you don’t need it anyway.”
“Sorry.”
“Give me that. You shouldn’t be eating the carbs. Don’t want to end up diabetic like that friend of yours.” He picked up the plate and was almost out of the kitchen when he turned. “You’re going to meet me in my office at six sharp. I need to talk to you about something.”
“Okay.”
I scowled at his back as he left, once again wishing I had more of a spine with my aunt and uncle. I didn’t have the energy or mental bandwidth to explain to him, yet again, how inaccurate that assumption was. Or that he was an asshole for mocking someone’s disability. Or that he was an asshole in general.
There was never a problem when he and Laura weren’t around, and even though those Alphas had ended up rescuing me last night, I’d still stood up for myself. It was just them. When they were around, the fear clogged up my throat and I couldn’t seem to think like the smart person I was. Instead, I turned into a ghost. Or a wet noodle. Someone who couldn’t stand on her own two feet.
No. That wasn’t true. Someone who was afraid of the power they held over her and didn’t want to make it worse.
