Opposites Attract - Jessica Prince Page 0,3
I finally put a stop to it.
“All right, Dev, just let it go already. One of you is going to put a damn hole in my wall if you keep it up.”
“Well if someone wasn’t such a DOUCHE NOZZEL,” she yelled at the wall, “we wouldn’t have a problem!”
I had to hold her back from pummeling her way through and going after the asshole when we heard him yell back, calling her an inconsiderate cow.
“I got your cow, needle dick!”
My glasses slid down my nose as she struggled against my ninja grip. “Will you chill out?” I grunted as she continued to swing, like the guy on the other side could even see her. “Call me crazy, but I kind of like this place. I’d prefer to stay here than in a box in the alley. I’m not big on the idea of having to share my canned tuna with Homeless Harry around the corner.”
“He called me a cow.” Her bottom lip was poking out as her forehead wrinkled with a frown. “I’m a size six! An eight if I’m a little bloaty or just had Mexican food, but still!”
“I know.” I patted her head, stroking the light brown strands like a mother would a moody teenager as I nodded. “You so pwetty,” I baby-talked, earning myself a slap on the arm.
She turned to glare at the white wall like it owed her money. “One of these days, I’m going to go over there and tear him a new asshole, so help me God.”
I climbed down off the bed, pushing my glasses back up the bridge of my nose. “Well, just do me a favor and wear a ski mask or something. Your name’s on the lease, so let’s not give the cops a trail back here, please.”
“Deal.”
“Great, now get out. I need to shower and head to work.”
She scooped Slim Shady up and cuddled him against her cheek. “Come on Shady, let’s go get some breakfast. I’m thinking sausage and scrambled eggs… lots of cheese.”
“No cheese!” I yelled over my shoulder as I headed for the bathroom. “You know he’s lactose intolerant! We learned that the last time… the hard way!”
I was pretty sure I heard her mutter “Mommy’s such a buzz kill” as she walked out of my room and closed the door behind her.
I WAS ONE OF the rare few who absolutely loved their job. Whereas most people worked for the soul purpose of paying their bills and keeping a roof over their heads, I worked because I genuinely loved coming into my little shop every morning. But seeing as I was raised by a family full of green thumbs, it wasn’t really all that surprising.
My grandfather had opened Flora before my father had even been a gleam in his eye. He passed the shop down to my dad when it was time to retire, and my dad had eventually passed it down to me. Granted, he wasn’t really ready to retire. It was more like my mom forced him into it by refusing to cook or clean for him until he eventually caved, which he wisely did. It only took three days before Dad declared himself “starving to death” and handed the keys over to me.
I was enveloped by the bright colors and fragrant smells of some of the most beautiful, exotic flowers. How could anyone’s mood be sour when they were surrounded by such beauty on a daily basis?
I had just enough employees to handle the register and things like that, so I could spend the majority of my days designing stunning centerpieces and elegant wedding bouquets. Sure, designing wedding arrangements on the regular might have left a bit of a sore spot, seeing as my own personal love life was a complete joke, but what could you do? I put myself out there once, and it blew up in my face. Shit happens, right?
On-line dating was a no.
Blind dates were a bust.
And my fear of being left swiped, kept me away from Tinder. Needless to say, my options were limited to running into a decent-looking, polite, well-educated, employed man by happenstance alone. Something that seemed to be an impossibility in New York.
I refused to let myself get too down about it. I had a fantastic family, good friends, and a job I loved. All things in the world of Delilah Northcutt were good.
“Del, the bride for the Collins/Locklaine wedding called. She can’t make the three o’clock appointment to get a look at a sample