Page 22 of Fang
I shake my head. “No, but you should be able to reach it. If not, I can have one of the brothers bring one over.”
“Cool.”
“Here. You’ll need this.” I look down at my desk and rifle through some of the papers I have until I find the one I’m looking for.
Prospect Two walks toward me and takes the inventory list from me when I hand it over.
“Do you need me to wait until we close to complete this?” he asks.
“Nah, on there I put down what the bare minimum number we need on hand is. So if it’s right at or below that, then mark it as something I will need to order.”
“Easy enough. I’ll get right on this.”
“Thanks.”
He walks out and shuts the door behind him once again.
Two things done. Only five left to go, then I can get the hell out of here.
April seventeenth. Just another day to everyone else, but not to me.
No, today is my birthday.
Not that anyone will know that. There won’t be endless phone calls and texts wishing me happiness for the day. I won’t be surprised with a party later. I won’t even get a piece of cake to wish on.
I never cared in the past, but for some reason today feels different. Maybe it’s because this is the first one I’m truly spending alone. Barbara isn’t waiting at the trailer to beat me and degrade me for ruining her life.
No, there will be no one to acknowledge today.
The melancholy fills me as I sit in my room wondering what to do today. I almost wish Fang had scheduled me a shift today. Even stripping for strange men would be better than sitting at home doing nothing.
It doesn’t have to be this way, though. I can make today better. I shouldn’t do it, but I pull out some money as I grab my keys and head toward the door.
I’m driving around town wondering what to do when I see it. Blooms. I always wanted someone to give me flowers. Then again, what was it Miley Cyrus said in that song? Something about buying herself flowers. Damn right, Miley. We can buy our own flowers.
Pulling into a parking spot, I walk into the shop. The woman behind the counter is helping someone, so I walk around.
I don’t know the difference between flowers. I have never had the need to know anything about them, but they are all pretty. I smell each one as I go, loving the different scents. I love this place.
“Hey, sorry about that. My name is Penelope. I’m the shop owner. Can I help you find anything?” the woman asks.
I turn, giving her a small smile.
“Do you have any cheap bouquets that I could buy?” I ask. “Maybe some that are on their way to the trash?”
She frowns. “Are you on a tight budget?”
I nod, “Yeah. Sorry. I guess I should have gone to the grocery store instead.”
She shakes her head. “Gosh no. Let’s get you something. Is there something special you are celebrating?”
I smile. “It’s my birthday. I wanted some flowers to brighten up my dorm room.”
“Oh, happy birthday. You’re a student? What are you studying?” she asks.
“Hospitality management. I hope to work in the service industry. Maybe hotels or something. I haven’t really decided yet,” I tell her, watching as she starts plucking flowers.
They all look so good, which has me worried about how much it will cost.
