Page 6 of Shift of Morals
“Evie. Hi. You’re just the person I came to see.”
“I’d hope so,” Moira drawled. “You are in her shop.”
Simone’s nostrils flared.
“Moira,” I said in quiet rebuke. The vampire rolled her eyes and returned her attention to the inventory list Ash had left her.
“Simone, please, come on in. Do you want some coffee? Scones will be ready in a couple of minutes if you want one of those too.”
She gave me a grateful smile but shook her head. “No, thank you. I’m only here for a moment.”
Not too long ago, I thought I might have a friend in this woman, but things had changed once she’d popped into the shop to announce Caelan’s engagement. It wasn’t her fault, but a wedge was driven between us at that moment, and we were at an odd impasse.
Simone was and would always be loyal to Caelan, and I was simply Evie, a florist with mixed-up heritage doing her very best to stay under the radar in a world that kept trying to drag her into the spotlight.
“If you’re here about the wedding, I have some ideas sketched out if you want to take them back. I didn’t have too much to go on, but I figured a Shifter Lord’s wedding was big business, so I drew up some extravagant arrangements and some middle of the road ones. He and his future bride will have to choose the flowers and whatnot, but I think either should work.”
Simone’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. “I’m sure they’re beautiful, but I’m here to invite you to the Keep in two days' time for a meeting to finalize the happy couple’s vision.”
My jaw tightened at her words. Considering I had Caelan in here backing me against a wall with sexual tension cracklingover my skin just a few weeks ago, was the couple really happy, or was this yet another political game I couldn’t get caught up in?
“I’m not sure why I need to attend a meeting, Simone. I’ve drawn up sketches, prepared mood boards, and have a few samples awaiting their perusal in my walk-in fridge. I’m happy to send those back with you. The happy couple is more than welcome to make additions or subtractions, change colors, or anything they like.”
“I’m truly sorry,” Simone said, and to her credit, she did sound remorseful. “I’m sure the samples are wonderful, but the Shifter Lord insists you attend in person.”
“Of course he does,” I muttered.
Moira snorted. “Since when does the Lord give a shit about hydrangeas or peonies? He was perfectly happy to leave that all up to Evie the last time she worked for him. Seems strange he’d suddenly develop an opinion overnight about floral choices.”
One of my eyebrows rose as I waited for Simone to address Moira’s words.
Her polite smile faltered. “Evie, you know I am just the messenger.” She blew out a breath. “Listen,” she said urgently. “I cannot divulge any information, but please don’t be difficult about this. There are things in play you cannot possibly imagine. If you don’t want to attend because of Caelan, please consider it a personal favor to me.” Simone cleared her throat. “Plus, Lord Rowan will be there, and he has personally requested to see you again.”
I had a soft spot for Rowan. Our magic was not dissimilar, and he seemed like he was a good dude. For a Shifter Lord, anyway. But Simone was acting strangely. “Is everything okay?”
Simone nodded. “For now.” She pulled an iPad from her purse and opened the case. “Can I count on your attendance?”
I sighed. “Fine. What should I bring besides the sketches and samples?”
Simone’s shoulders sank with relief. “Just any ideas you have and any examples. Thank you so much, Evie. I won’t forget this.”
“You better not,” I grumbled.
This time, the smile reached her eyes. “For what it’s worth, this took us all by surprise,” she said softly. “Even Caelan.”
Before I could respond to that bombshell, Simone had turned and breezed through the door, a scent of jasmine perfume in her wake.
I turned to Moira, feeling completely befuddled.
Moira had the same look on her face I assumed I was wearing.
“Huh,” she said. “Is this a shotgun wedding or something?”
I laughed, the sound breaking the awkward silence. “No idea. It’s pretty difficult for shifters to get pregnant, isn’t it?”
Moira shrugged. “They can’t get diseases, so you know none of those horndogs are wrapping up their wieners.”
“No one says wieners anymore, you ancient idiot.” I snickered as I went over to the register to grab my cell so I could add the appointment onto my calendar.
