To Gerald Benjamin Ayers.
“Suck. My. Dick,” HFG repeated, enunciating each word deliberately. “You’ve cussed me out, called me everything but a child of God, and you expect me to comp you? I don’t think so.”
“Do you have any idea who the fuck I am?” Gerald roared. “I’m on the city council—”
“I know who you are, and I don’t care,” HFG snapped, a small crack in his cool armor appearing. “You aren’t going to speak to me that way. Period.”
“You… you…!” Gerald couldn’t get any other words out, his finger shaking as he kept on pointing at HFG.
“Hey! My flowers are here.” Aaron suddenly piped up from behind Tom, brushing by him and hurrying out into the garage. He had probably heard Gerald’s screaming from the damn office.
“These are yours?” Gerald spat.
“Yes.” Aaron swept the spray up into his arms. He was so small that his head was just barely visible over the top of the massive arrangement. “They’re for Mrs. Winslow, the lady Tom finished up earlier.” Aaron jerked his head back at Tom. “She’s going in the Churchill Blue casket, and the family wanted the flowers to match.”
HFG smirked.
“Well, where the fuck are my flowers? Where are mine?” Gerald barked. “I need the spray for Mr. Hewitt.”
“His services aren’t until Thursday,” Aaron cautiously reminded him. “We only got him ready today because his priest was coming by. We don’t need the spray until tomorrow.”
“Iknewthat. For fuck’s sake. Come the fuck on then,” Gerald grumbled, turning sharply to march back by Tom and into the hallway.
As Aaron walked by with the flowers, he and Tom exchanged a sympathetic grimace. No one should ever be the victim of Gerald’s wrath, and there was no way he was going to apologize to HFG.
Tom had hoped for a moment to chat with HFG, maybe finally learn his name, but he seemed busy typing something on his phone. Tom didn’t want to interrupt, and the longer he stood there, the more awkward the silence became.
What was he supposed to say?
Sorry, my boss is a raging jackass and cussed you out, but hey, I think you’re hot. Wanna go out with me?
Turning to unprop the door, Tom figured this wasn’t the best time to flirt. He needed to get back to work before he made this any more uncomfortable.
“Tom, right?” HFG asked suddenly, flashing a small smile.
“Huh?” Tom turned back around. “Yeah, hey. You know my name?”
“You’re the embalmer, yeah?”
“Yeah.” Tom grinned, immediately ducking his head down to hide his teeth.
“You’re usually in scrubs when I see you,” HFG explained. “Suit looks good on you.”
“Wow. Heh. Thanks. I thought I was gonna have to take out a funeral this morning, but uh…” Tom felt his cheeks warming up and stepped away from the door to offer his hand. “Thomas Hill. It’s nice to finally meet you officially.”
“Cypress Holmes,” he replied, firmly shaking Tom’s hand.
“You’re usually in and out of here so fast…” Tom laughed nervously. “…I never had the chance to introduce myself before.”
“It’s okay,” Cypress said with a chuckle. “My delivery schedule can be really tight. Not a lot of time for chit chat.”
“But now?” Tom asked hopefully.
“I got a minute.” Cypress crossed his arms. “You been working here long?”
“Ten years,” Tom replied. “What about you? You been, uh, delivering flowers long?”
“Two months.” Cypress rolled his eyes. “My last delivery guy quit, and I haven’t been able to find anybody, so I’m making the arrangements and delivering them all.”
