Page 27 of Words We Didn't Say

“Um…”

Andie strode into the kitchen, her hands overloaded with coffees. “Yvette,” she growled. “Put some damn clothes on.”

Silently, I sidled along the counter to sneak my coffee from the pile. As long as those two were bickering, I was in the clear. I inched closer to the doorway.

Yvette slipped the incriminating phone messages down the front of her dress and shook out her blonde curls. “I’m afraid I have to disappoint you, Andrea, my dear.”

“You didnotjust call me—”

“You’ve seen these beauties, right?” Yvette hiked up the front of her dress. “One hundred percent natural. You know what that means?”

Andie suddenly seemed very interested in fiddling with the lid of her coffee. “I’m sure you’re about to explain it to me,” she grumbled.

“It means I’ve got another five years tops before these girls start their ill-fated journey to my knees,” Yvette said. “I need to make sure they get the attention they deserve.”

“Nobody here’s interested in looking at your damn boobs.” But even as Andie lied through her teeth, she was sneaking another peek.

Sipping my coffee, I rolled my eyes. “When are you two going to get a room and get this over with?” Hopefully soon. This flirting nonsense had started well before I’d poached Yvette from another salon a year ago.

“Wha—what!” Yvette squawked.

“G-Gross,” Andie spluttered at the same time.

“Uh-huh,” I said. “Keep proving my point.” My grin grew wider the more they kept trying to deny it.

The front door chimed.

Andie puffed out a sigh of relief.

I bent over the kitchen counter to peer around the corner. I couldn’t quite see who was at the door.

A delivery?

Appointments didn’t start until nine, but the luxury experience we offered needed hours of meticulous preparation before the doors officially opened each day. Extra fluffy robes and towels, aromatherapy for the ultimate relaxation, five-star catering, and more alcohol than the bougie bar down the laneway made Voom tick. Our stellar reviews and a nine-month waiting list didn’t happen without supporting local businesses. We were always fielding deliveries.

I strolled into the waiting area. Stopped. My jaw hit the floor.

A woman teetered from side to side as she headed for reception. I guessed it was a woman by her faded denim skirt and ballet flats. The wall of roses trimmed with a floppy red bow hid the rest of her.

“No tea to spill, huh?” Yvette laughed behind me. “Someone’s been a bad, bad boy.”

My eyes narrowed. That bunch of poison had better not be for me. Was I imagining the sneeze tickling my nose and the itch clawing at my throat?

He seriously couldn’t have forgotten my allergies…could he?

“I’m looking for Eden,” the delivery girl squeaked.

He forgot.

Andie stormed across the salon. “What the fuck was he thinking sending these here?” She grabbed the bouquet and signed for the delivery with the ridiculous mess of flowers propped on her hip.

Yvette’s chin tipped in my direction with a smug grin. “Care to explain?”

I absolutely didn’t, so I examined my nail polish instead.

Andie glanced around the salon, searching for somewhere to dump the flowers. “Eden caught him with his pants down.”

There was no sugarcoating my humiliation. The truth was just…there.

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