Unhinge - Calia Read Page 0,57

crossed my arms again. I couldn’t stop fidgeting. I couldn’t stop sneaking glances at Sinclair. He had stood up. His hands were on his narrow hips. He stared at me, his gaze unflinching.

“Don’t worry about it,” I said to Renee just a little too loudly. “Everything was fine.”

She dropped the bags onto the table and glanced at me curiously. Her eyes flitted between Sinclair and me. “Was it too crazy here?”

“One customer.”

Renee whistled. “Sounds like it was a packed house,” she replied dryly.

I could feel Sinclair’s eyes on me. But Renee was already on to me. There was no way I was looking in his direction. I pointed to the bags. “What did you get?”

“Oh!” Renee clapped her hands excitedly and reached into the bags. “After my appointment, I went to the farmers’ market. I found this beautiful flower that I know you’ll just love….”

She continued to talk. Her mouth moved up and down but I couldn’t latch on to a single word. I looked over her head, to where Sinclair stood. With my eyes I pleaded for him to not push what almost happened.

“…I think I’m going to try and make it a weekly trip,” Renee said. She flipped through her calendar, and stopped short. Her face turned pale. Her elbows landed on either side of the calendar as she stared down at it. “Shit, shit, shit, shit.” Renee dragged her hands through her hair.

I tried to peer at the schedule but her arms covered it. “What’s wrong?”

“I forgot to drop off flowers.”

“For?” Sinclair asked.

“A client. I completely forgot. Jeff and I had a date night all planned out for tonight.”

“I’ll do it,” I blurted out.

Renee looked visibly shocked. “What?”

The words came out before I could think them over, but now that they had settled, I realized it might be fun. And if not fun, at least interesting. “Yeah,” I said as I walked around the register. “I’ll do it. No problem.”

“I’ll go with her.”

My eyes widened in shock. I whipped my head around and stared at Sinclair. He shrugged as though it were nothing, and never once met my gaze.

“You’re going to deliver flowers,” Renee stated skeptically.

“Yeah,” he replied.

“You’re going to deliver flowers.”

“Yeah.”

“For me.”

“Yes!”

“Not once in all our entire childhood, teenage, or adult years have you ever wanted to help me out.”

“Well, I’m helping you out now.”

“Yeah, that’s it,” Renee said dubiously. They said nothing but gave each other that “sibling stare” of silent communication.

A moment went by and I cleared my throat. Renee pulled out her keys and tossed them to Sinclair. “Now, don’t go too fast. And the brakes are sensitive.”

“Renee, relax. Believe it or not, I have driven a car before.”

Renee snorted dismissively at her brother. She glanced at me, thousands of questions in her eyes. Sinclair was going to deliver the flowers. There was no need for me to go. Yet I found myself creeping closer and closer to the door.

“I’ll see you later,” I called over my shoulder as I rushed toward the door. Within seconds he had caught up with me and held the door open. When we were both outside, I stared straight ahead. “I think I’ll drive there in my own car.”

“Are you sure?”

When I glanced up at Sinclair I saw that all the intensity brewing in the shop had followed us outside. The two of us going anywhere together was a really bad idea.

—

Delivering flowers isn’t as cut and dried as you’d think. The fact that we arrived five minutes before the party should have worked in our favor, but people were already sitting at the tables. Kids ran zigzagging between tables, trying to beat their brothers, sisters, or cousins with balloons plucked from the tables. The birthday woman—who we found out pretty quickly was called Barbara—was picky. She had Sinclair move the flower arrangements from one table to the next. Once that was settled, she’d have him turn it to the right, no, to the left. Can you move it forward a bit? Yes, right there is perfect.

I leaned against the wall, watching more and more people filter in. The tables were covered in red, disposable tablecloths, with black foldout chairs tucked beneath them. Every time someone moved a chair around, the legs would scrape against the floor, creating a noise that had me cringing.

This looked less like a birthday party and more like a homecoming dance.

But it was nice to watch the members of this woman’s family come in. They were are all hushed words and talk