My voice fails me, and all I can think about is how I came home on a Friday night to find Alec and Connor posing as a united front during their “intervention.” It doesn’t matter that Alec is a master manipulator. It still hurt.
“Maybe if you’d believed me the first time I tried to tell you what Alec was doing, I would have left him before he destroyed my whole fucking life.”
Jabbing the screen, I hang up on him. The only family connection I have, since Mom doesn’t know where I am. She still thinks Alec is “such a nice guy.” I know I’m being unfair. Connor didn’t evengetmy text messages after the accident. Alec made sure of that.
Clementine jumps onto the desk, and times like these, I think she’s more empathetic than most human beings. She’s kneading my forearm, yet still staring at the telephone monster like it’ll turn on her any second.
And then the doorbell rings. It’s too early for Graham to show up, and I’m not expecting any deliveries today. The sign’s very clear.
Occupant will not answer or sign for any deliveries.
But the bell rings again. The camera shows a guy in the most generic delivery uniform ever. From the app on my phone, I activate the intercom. “Whatever it is, you can leave it by the door.”
“I’m afraid I can’t, sir. My instructions are to deliver it to the occupant personally.” The man looks downright uncomfortable. Not that I blame him. He probably had to step over a melted and rotting puddle of mint chip to get to the door. The box in his hands can’t be more than six inches on any side. Done up with a red ribbon.
“Who’s the sender?”
“Seattle Floral Creations.”
Flowers? Who the hell would send me flowers? Something doesn’t feel right about this whole thing. Graham wouldn’t do that. And even if he did, he’s seen the sign. “Is there a card?”
Now the delivery guy just looks pissed. “No card, sir. Look, it’s a prickly pear cactus. Do you want it or not?”
“Leave. I refuse the delivery. Just…go.” I can barely get the words out. There’s only one person who would send me a prickly pear cactus. Only one person who’d insist I receive it personally. Alec loved the damn things. Gave me one after our first date.
My hands shake as I text my brother.
You’re sure he’s still in Dallas?
Connor responds in under a minute.
Yes. Why?
He’s messing with me. Signed me up for a catalog he used to love and just sent me a cactus—or tried to.
Even as I type the message, I can see how stupid it is. I don’t have any proof it was him. A fucking catalog and a cactus?
My guys just verified he’s in his hotel room watching TV. Sent one of the housekeeping staff to offer him fresh towels. He’s definitely still in Dallas.
Then five minutes later, he sends another message.
I’ll fly out tomorrow. We’ll talk. About everything.
Big brother to the rescue. Again. But I don’t need him to save me. Not this time. What I want more than anything? His respect. To just be my brother rather than my protector.
No. As long as he’s still in Texas, I can take care of myself.
Three dots dance at the bottom of the screen, over and over and over again. But no message follows.
“We’re okay by ourselves. Right, Clementine?” I stroke the kitten’s soft fur and she rewards me by flopping over and letting me rub her belly.
I can do this. Even if Alec keeps harassing me, I can fight him now. I’m strong enough. At least...I hope I am.
* * *
Two hours later,I stare at my computer monitor, a silly grin plastered to my face. This has been my dream for three years. To help people like me. To do somethinggoodwith my skills.
One click of the mouse, and Zen Oasis will be headed to all of the mobile app stores, and within a week, people will be able to buy it. For an entire year, I’d given up hope of ever making it this far. Hell, I’d given up hope for a lot of things.
