Page 102 of The Heart You Kept

Having a heart attack, if you really must know.

“Sorry.” I rush back into the store, crap…he’s right. People are everywhere, and from the corner of my eye I catch sight of Edward’s friends walking through the aisles as they look around, Theodore, Nicholas, and that other friend of theirs, I forget his name. They are all wearing suits, chatting away while looking all orgasmic.

He brought his friends to my store; do they know anything about me or our history, has he told them…what the hell does this mean?

I feel the blood begin to drain from my body as I realize something. The Prince of Monaco is here… and we have no fucking cheese.

Argh!

“Hello.” I smile calmly to the next customer at the front desk. “How can I help you?”

“Hi, I’m interested in the grand piano,” a man asks.

“Of course,” I reply, my eyes flick over his shoulder to the smolder squad, loitering around like God’s gift to women. Not an analogy, these men are literally God’s gift to women.

“This way.” I briskly walk to the other end of the store with the man trailing behind me. I open the lid. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

“May I?” He gestures to it.

“Be my guest.” I discreetly wipe the perspiration from my brow, this night is a pressure cooker and I am the meat.

He sits down and starts playing a classical tune and the store collectively stops and listens.

He’s good….

I look up to the other end of the store to see Edward mutter something under his breath to his friends and they all chuckle, seemingly unimpressed.

Smart-asses.

I’d like to see you play better…actually, these tossers probably all play harps and shit. I don’t even know what rich people play, but I’m sure it’s not the recorder like normal people learned at school.

I see Jonty hold up wineglasses to Edward and his friends and they nod.

Oh, hell on a cracker…. For the love of god, do not drink that wine!

It’s average at best. I widen my eyes to Helene.

Help!

Mr. Piano Man keeps playing and playing and playing and from my peripheral vision I can see Helene’s shoulders bouncing up and down as she giggles.

That bitch can read my mind, and this isn’t a concert, you giant dickhead.

I don’t have time for this.

“Would you like some cheese and crackers?” Jonty calls to them.

Shut up, Jonty. Please. Just shut the hell up.

“Yes, why not,” Edward replies.

I discreetly wipe my brow again, it’s so fucking hot in here.

Combustible.

Helene ducks into an aisle and loses it, laughing hard as she leans her hands on her knees.

But Mr. Piano Man keeps playing…. On and on and fucking on.