Janice narrowed her eyes. “Thomas didn’t specify, just told me to pick up balloons on the way here.”
“I thought maybe you’d get red balloons, you know…because of the song.”
Janice glared at him.
Scott scratched the back of his head. “99 red balloons?”
Her eye twitched. “I was not asked to get ninety-nine red balloons; I was asked to get two hundred.”
“Two hundred?”
“And do you know how many shops I had to try to find them?”
Scott spoke through a grimace. “By the pissed-off expression on your face, I’m guessing five or six.”
Janice held up two fingers to him. “Two shops.”
“That doesn’t sound so bad…”
“The bakery and the supermarket.”
Scott leaned away from her. “Why the hell would you think a bakery sold balloons?”
“Get going,” Janice said, giving Scott a push.
She followed him into the house, then took the stairs to the floor above while Scott pushed open the double doors to one of the auction rooms.
The chairs, stands, and lots were all gone, leaving a huge room with a shiny oak floor and sickly green walls. The ceilings were high, and the huge windows filled the space with light. Scott’s footsteps echoed as he walked to the middle of the room, then sat down cross-legged on the floor.
Before he got started, he sent Thomas a quick text.
Scott:I thought you said 100 balloons x
Thomas:I did, but we need 200. It’s a baker’s dozen for balloons.
Scott:With a failsafe of 50%? x
Thomas:Yes…
Scott:Okay x
Thomas:And stop putting x’s at the end of your messages. It’s giving me the ick.
Scott:Okay. xxx <3
Thomas:Scott…
Scott:Yes? x
Thomas:…
Scott:How about you stop putting… It’s giving me passive-aggressive vibes x
Thomas:There’s nothing passive about it…
Scott:I’ll make a deal; I’ll stop putting x’s if you stop with the…
Thomas:Okay. Deal. Now fuck off and blow up some balloons.
