“I’m not sure.” The almost-thief crossed his arms, still smiling at me. “But this woman just threatened to call you over here, so I figured I’d grant that wish.”
“I come in here pretty often,” I said.
“I’ve never seen you before,” the guard said. “Are you a customer?”
“I’m a wedding planner,” I said. “And this man?—”
“His name is Mr. Brooks.” He looked offended, as if this man was somehow more important than me.
“Right. Well, Mr. Brooks was messing with an order I paid to pick up, so he’s in the wrong, not me, and I’d appreciate it if you took my side instead of his.”
“I need to see your receipt for this order, Miss.” He held out his hand, ignoring everything I’d said.
You’ve got to be kidding me…
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes and tapped my phone’s screen. I logged into my email and pulled up the order.
It took everything in me not to shove it into his face.
“Hmmm. Okay.” He nodded and held up his hands in slight surrender.
“My apologies, then.” He stepped back. “Enjoy the rest of your shopping and be sure to come back whenever you need more.”
“What about him touching my flowers?” I pointed. “What about him?”
“I’m sure he had his reasons.” He shrugged and returned to his post.
“Glad we could get that sorted out,” almost-thief said. “If you give me your phone number, I’ll happily make this up to you.”
“I’ll pass. Thanks.”
I stuffed the flowers into my purse and picked up the other bouquets I’d ordered.
“Thanks to you,” I said, picking up the last one, “I’m running four minutes and thirty-eight seconds late for the final gift-bag checkup. I don’t think guests will take too kindly to missing out on the specialty blooms the couple picked out.”
“Most wedding guests throw all that stuff away anyway…”
“Not when the event costs this much, they don’t.”
“Want to bet?”
“No.” I rolled my eyes. “I want you to get out of my way.”
“I will after you give me your phone number…”
“I could’ve sworn I said no.”
“You didn’t sound like you meant it.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes.” He smiled and took out his phone. “Seriously.”
If this were any other time and my ass wasn’t on the line, I might’ve considered it.
Then again…
“Can you step to the side so I can grab the boutonnière box, or do you need to run your hands over that first, too?”
