"And can you locate the best florist in Key West? I have some extensive groveling to do."
Key West
Anna rolled her tired shoulders as she plugged the numbers into the spreadsheet and saved it to the computer. The dull ache throbbed behind her eyes.
She hated this part of the business, but it was a necessity. According to her records, the vast majority of The Majestic's final order was finished and there were only three additional cabinets to complete. And those were already half done. She’d knock them out in the next few days.
She had cranked through this project like a woman possessed, and amazingly the quality of her work hadn't suffered. If anything, it was better than ever.
The work required focus and soothed her heart, for which she was grateful. Although she really had James to thank. He would certainly benefit from the excellence of the furniture. Without this mind-numbing work, she would be beside herself with heartache. As it was, she was barely eating and sleeping.
But Anna knew from experience that she just needed to get through this initial rough patch and continue to rebuild her walls. After a while, the pain would dull to an ache and eventually, she would feel nothing again. She longed for that day.
With a heavy sigh, she opened her email and winced at the number of new messages. She scanned the list, several from the gallery, a handful from her vendors, and a few delivery confirmations. When she tabbed to the next page, her eyes froze on a group of five emails. The sender was a James Armstrong.
Dammit! Is there no peace from this man?
Several loud raps echoed through her warehouse, making her jump. Swiveling in her chair, she glared at the large metal door, willing the intruder to go away.
There were no delivery pickups scheduled, and she hadn't ordered anything. No one should be here. They must have the wrong address.
She jolted again as a fist pounded on the door and she shoved away from her desk with a snarl.
"What?" Anna barked as she swung open the door, ready to rip into the intruder. She came to an abrupt halt and blinked several times as she tried to process the spectacle before her.
Seven oversized vases, nearly as big as she was, sat in a semicircle, overstuffed with masses of red and yellow roses.
Another shaft of pain shot through her head and for a moment, she wondered if she was having an aneurism. "What the hell is this?" she snapped, holding her hands to her temples. "I didn't order any flowers."
Parked behind the array of arrangements sat a gray delivery van with an elaborate pink and purple logo splayed across the side that readThe Keys to Your Heart Floral Shop.
She glared at the head that popped up from the back of the delivery van.
"Got an order here for an Anna Kingsley." The man stepped around the open doors, his arms wrapped around another ridiculously tall vase full of an elaborate tropical bouquet as he awkwardly lumbered toward her.
He dropped it in place next to the others, chomping obnoxiously on a piece of gum, and handed her a clipboard and a pen. Then gave her a chin lift. "That's you. Would you sign at the bottom to confirm you received it? I got a couple more in the back for you."
"What? No!" She shook her head violently, making the ache even worse. "I'm not signing this. Take them back."
Damn. Maybe I'm having a stroke. Or I’m hallucinating due to overwork and lack of sleep.
"I don't want any of these. I didn't order anything." She stared at the packing list in horror. Ten deluxe arrangements had indeed been scheduled to deliver to her workshop.
Gah! This is my nightmare.
The man panted as he carried another vase over and placed it in front of her. "Whelp, ma'am. You'll have to take that up with the gentleman who sent you this." He held up a large white envelope. "Supposed to give you this after you sign." He tapped the envelope on the clipboard. "Right down there by the 'X'."
"I have a better idea. Why don't you load all this crap into your van and we'll pretend this never happened."
The man blew a large bubble and grinned after he sucked the gum back into his mouth. "No can do, ma'am. I'm getting a huge tip from your admirer once I confirm you received the order." He leaned forward as if he were sharing a top-secret message. "It's more than what the arrangements cost, so I ain't screwing this up. Now sign."
James is determined to screw up my life.
She moaned as she massaged the back of her neck, desperate to break the pain. Why wouldn’t he just leave her alone?
And why now? Was he determined to keep her hanging on? Was this some sick game of his? He made it clear with his reaction followed by his prolonged silence that it was over. Hell, he'd practically hung a neon sign on her neck that read ‘FREAK.’
She’d never forget the look on his face and the fear and distance in his eyes when he’d stared at her. Turning from her touch, making excuses mechanically, not even saying goodbye all while breaking her heart.
