Page 111 of The Secret
“And hello to you, too,” Mason said as I stripped off my coat and laid it on the back of the chair. He pushed a paper cup and a heart-shaped cookie across the table toward me. “Happy Val—”
“Do not,” I said in my most warning tone of voice. “Do notdarefinish that sentence.”
“Whoa.” Mason frowned. “I guessed based on your reaction when I asked about Con—”
“Don’t finish that sentence either,” I interrupted in a slightly softer tone.
“Okay,” Mase agreed, wincing. “So, neutral topic. How’s Blooms?”
I laughed, a little too loud, a little too desperately, a little too close to tears.
“Definitely,definitelydo not ask me about Blooms.”
“Micah, what’s going on? I talked to you three weeks ago and everything was fine. You were laughing. Con—uh,everyone—seemed great. I called you yesterday, and—”
“Notfinethree weeks ago,” I admitted. “Not fine, but not awful. Now… Well, now it’s bad.”
“What is?”
I huffed. “Everything. Basically.”
Mason shook his head. “Be more specific.”
And I figured,why the hell not? It wasn’t like I was going to be able to hide things from Mason anyway. Not for very long.
“I got into a fight a while back,” I began. “Punched a guy in the face…”
“Wait, pause.” Mason held out a hand. “I hate to stop you so early, but I have so many questions.”
I sighed and explained the anthropomorphic gaping asshole that was Trent Gaynor, and how I’d hit him.
And how I’d fuckingliked it.
“You remember Jonny once taught us how to punch?” I asked Mason. “And MoonFlower was pissed because she didn’t want us being violent, but Jonny said once we learned, it’d come back to us when we needed it?”
He nodded. “Yeah! Did it?”
“Fuck no. Hit him with the flat of my fingers. Hurt like asonofabitch.” I shook my head ruefully. “So, further proof Jonny was full of shit.”
“As if we needed it.”
“Yeah.”
“And what happened after that?” Mason demanded.
I scratched my head. “Idiot threatened to call the cops, but Charlotte—the woman who works at the Inn—told Trent and his father that she would explain exactly what she heard, including the use of homophobic slurs. Turns out Trent’s dad has high hopes for his son. Doesn’t want this on his record. So he’s keeping it silent. Mostly.”
“Mostly.”
I smiled. “Yeah. Little fact I knew but forgot in the moment is that Trent’s related to the guys who supply my flowers.”
Mason’s eyes widened. “So they… aren’t doing business with you anymore?”
“Oh, no. No, worse than that. They started making these little errors, exactly as they did with Constantine’s mother back in the day. More and more and more, over the past four or five weeks. Passive aggressive bullshit, and I’d thought I could just wait it out, you know? Let them get it out of their systems. Until this week. When I needed a giant supply of flowers for literally the biggest wedding contract I’ve ever signed—”
“The senator’s wedding!” Mason said, eyes wide. “I remember this.”
“It’s the senator’s stepdaughter,” I corrected. “But yesandfor a little holiday called Valentine’s Day. The make or break holiday for my shop.”
