Page 36 of Five Days to Be Mine

“That’s a bigger truck than I thought,” Alex says, coming up behind me.

“I know.” My stomach is flip flopping because I don't know if I'll have room to put all this stuff in the garage.

They park the truck, then the guy with the driver gets out and opens the back of the truck.

I peer in and my stomach twists in a knot.

There are pieces of metal, an oversized birdcage, bolts of fabric, broken pieces of something, but the truck is so stacked I can't see everything.

“Come on Mara, we’ll get this done in no time,” Marc says.

“I know it’s not glamorous,” I say, grabbing for a cylinder metal tube.

“Are you kidding? This beats making another birthday bouquet,” Suki grins at me.

I shake my head, but I’m swimming in the warm and fuzzies.

When I called my friends from college, I wasn't sure they’d return my calls, nevermind show up for a few days of work here and there. I could only pay them peanuts, but they were happy to do it.

Working for the Wilsons was a dream, but it came at a high price.

I worked long hours and lost contact with my friends, swept up in the strong personalities of Kyle and Sabrina.

They changed my life forever, but when they took me out to dinner and humiliated me, I knew I couldn't keep working for them.

My cheeks heat at the memory of Sinful Bites.

What was the worst night turned into one of the best nights of my life and the memory hasn’t been far from my mind since.

“Whoa, I got it.” Marc takes a twisted wire sculpture out of my hands.

“Thanks.”

The only reason I was able to quit my job was because I moved in with my mom and stepdad.

Both of them are supportive and happy to have me home, but come on, moving back home at thirty-two wasn’t on my vision board.

Working efficiently, we have the truck emptied in half an hour.

The garage is so stuffed, I can’t get the door to close.

“Call us when it’s time to start working,” Marc says, dropping a kiss on my cheek.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” Suki squeezes my arm. “Just remember us when you’re the next floral designer to the stars.”

“She better or I’ll post drunken pictures of her.” Alex winks at me.

“There are no drunken photos!” I protest, laughing.

“That’s what you say!” Marc calls, holding the car door open for Alex.

They wave and I notice Arthur, my stepbrother, drive-up.

He steps out of the car, as three trucks with a trailer drive up behind him to the house.

“What’s all this?” I ask.

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