Total pages in book: 31
Estimated words: 29683 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 148(@200wpm)___ 119(@250wpm)___ 99(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 29683 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 148(@200wpm)___ 119(@250wpm)___ 99(@300wpm)
“None for me, huh?” Carrie says from behind the counter.
I stroll over and lean an elbow against the red tile. “You said flowers were a waste.”
She flushes. “I didn’t mean it like that.” A furrow creases her forehead. “You’ve never told your mom I said that, right?”
“My mother thinks you walk on water, so if I told her—which I have not—that you thought they were a waste, she’d probably close the doors to her florist shop forever.” This close to her, I can smell the sweetness of her skin. I’m afraid to take another whiff because I’ll probably attack her and then her grandpa will come over with his grandpa strength and kick my ass, but my own protective instincts will rise up and I’ll end up punching the old man out, thus earning Carrie’s eternal enmity. I push away from the counter. “Look I gotta go, but make me a three-level delight. Oh, and a fudge brownie sundae for Trish. She says she’s in mourning and needs ice cream therapy.”
Carrie starts scooping the ice cream but stops and says, “Trish?”
“Yeah. She’s moping because she caught Slider and GG playing tonsil hockey next to her car. She said she had to take her Beemer through the car wash three times, but she swore she could still see GG’s ass outline on the passenger window. Hopefully the fudge brownie sundae will bring her down from the Olivia Rodrigo cliff she’s currently on.”
“I didn’t know you two were hanging out.” I’ll take any excuse to come get ice cream and see Carrie.
“Her dad’s got some deal that my dad’s handling so they’ve been over quite a bit. Mom always wanted a girl, you know, so she’s coddling Trish. You should come over after work and watch a movie with us. They’re going to binge watch Pride & Prejudice—the series, not the movie.” It’s my mom’s favorite. She’s watched it so many times I think she could write the book herself.
“Pass.” Carrie returns to making the ice cream treats.
I tell myself not to be disappointed. It’s not like I was expecting her to jump at this invitation. It’s boring. Trish gives me a headache, and after she leaves, my mom will spend the next seven days talking about how I should date that nice Long girl.
Mrs. Montlain aka Sunshine bustles out with the vase full of flowers. “These are so pretty, Booker. I can’t believe your mom has to throw them out every night.”
“Yeah, real shame.”
I catch Carrie rolling her eyes over my white lie. I started bringing flowers to Sunshine about a year ago. At first she wouldn’t accept them so I told her that Mom had to throw the flowers out at the end of the day. Sunshine was satisfied with that and allowed me to bring her a bouquet of roses whenever I stopped in for a treat. One of these days, Carrie’s going to rat me out. I can see it in her face. Hurriedly, I throw my money on the counter and grab the two containers. “Thanks, babe. Looks delicious as always.”
“I’m not done. I haven’t put the whip cream on top.”
“Don’t forget the cherries. The boy likes two of them,” Mr. Montlain bellows.
Carrie sniffs. “Of course he likes two of them. All guys do.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing? Sounds like you’re insulting me.”
“If it sounds like it, maybe you’re guilty of something.”
“Of liking cherries?” I’m confused.
“Yes. Of liking too many cherries. Too many cherries are bad for you. You should be happy with one but instead you have to pile your dessert up with as many cherries as you can. I hope you choke on your cherries.” She slams the register shut.
“Your grandpa is the one that gives me the extra cherries.”
“Because all you men stick together!” Her voice is getting high and thin.
It scares me.
“Okay. No cherries next time.”
“Oh my God. It’s not about the cherries!”
“It’s not?”
“Get out!” She flings her hand toward the door. “Trish is waiting.”
Trish is waiting. The ice cream is melting...and yet, I feel like walking out the door right now is a big mistake.
“Best get going, dear. Ice cream isn’t meant to sit out in the sun too long,” Mrs. Montlain shoos me toward the door.
“We’re inside, though.” I feel like I’m missing something. “Are we still talking about cherries?” I ask.
Mrs. Montlain shakes her head. “When you figure it out, then you’ll know.”
And with that cryptic message, I find myself on the sidewalk with two melting ice cream treats and a big ass headache.
Chapter Four
Carrie
“Are you ready to admit you have a thing for Booker yet?” Grams asks, coming to sit down in the office.
I love my grandpa, but he’s not great at doing the books. He always gives it a go but can never get everything lined out right and counted. I’ve been checking over them since I was thirteen. It’s another way I’ve been able to pitch in around here. They’ve done so much for me and Mom that I try to give back in any way that I can.