attire.
Before she'd passed on, Henry's sweet wife, Barbara, designed a new logo for the garden shop and spent a good amount of money to have it printed on a variety of tank tops and T-shirts.
Ivy liked the tank tops best, as they paired well with jeans and cut-offs. Today, she had on her favorite green tank and her most comfortable pair of cut-off shorts, along with a sturdy pair of hiking boots. Nothing was hanging out where it shouldn't, and in her mind, Ivy could hear Juliet's voice.
“Girl, sometimes you just gotta lose your shit to convince those assholes you will, indeed, cut a bitch.”
Ivy took a breath to ensure the people watching her would later be able to say she'd handled herself with dignity and poise, but a deep, masculine voice rumbled from behind her.
“What the fuck is going on here?”
In that moment, Ivy wished with all her might that she had the power to open a huge hole in the ground to sink down into and die. She didn't have to turn around to know who was behind her. That voice… that harsh, snarling growl...
Without looking, Ivy knew Uriah Tremarc's mop of thick brown hair would be wild and windblown. He'd have scruff on his face, maybe a few flecks of sawdust sprinkled over the shirt stretched tight across his steely pectorals.
It would be a black shirt or a dark gray one. He'd have on jeans that fit him like they were tailor-made to hug every impressive bulge of muscle, and his enormous hands would be set on his hips, drawing her attention to his sexy forearms and the pythons he had the audacity to call biceps.
He'd squash Charles with both hands tied behind his back, and she was awfully tempted to let him, but this was her fight, and she was ready to end it.
“I'll be with you in just a moment, Uriah,” Ivy murmured politely, lifting her chin to catch Charles’s wide eyes. “Mr. Vonn, as of this moment, you have one employee doing the work of six, which means my wardrobe choices should be the least of your concerns.
“I'm exhausted, I'm surviving on granola bars I can scarf down between helping customers, and I haven't had time to pee in three days, let alone slack off my job. But if you find my presence so offensive, I will be happy to walk out that door right now and let you take over to run the entire shop all by yourself.”
Not used to having anyone talk back to him, Charles spluttered for a snappy comeback, but all he managed was, “You wouldn't dare.”
“The hell I wouldn't!” Ivy shot back. “If I didn't know better, I'd think you were purposefully trying to see the shop go under, and the only reason I haven't called Henry to complain about your deplorable behavior is because he needs to rest and focus on his recovery.
“I've been busting my ass to ensure when Henry does come back, his business will still be open, and he won't have lost all his customers due to your complete and utter incompetence.
“Today is payday, Mr. Vonn, and I expect to see every single spare minute I've spent doing my job to be accounted for. If it's not, I assure you, you will not like the consequences.”
Whatever terrible thing might have come out of Charles’s fat-lipped mouth next was interrupted by the shrill ringing of his cell phone. He glared evilly at Ivy, not bothering to check the caller ID before answering, “What?!”
The man on the other end was apparently furious. She couldn't make out the words, but she could hear the tone, and it thrilled her to see Charles on the receiving end of an ass chewing.
Without another word to her, he spun on his heel and stomped back inside where it was cool. Ivy took a cleansing breath, apologized to the customers, who'd been unfortunate enough to witness the whole thing, and turned around to find Uriah slipping his cell phone back into his pocket.
He looked down at her with those amber eyes of his, and it was all she could do not to sigh like some shifter groupie. He indeed had a sprinkle of sawdust in his hair, and his black shirt threatened to burst at the seams around his muscles. He glared at her like she'd done something to upset him—which hurt—but she wasn't about to take any more shit today.
“How can I help you today, Uriah?”
Instead of telling her how much