Page 113 of Puck Princess

“Not going to happen.”

I give him a small salute in gratitude. “I could see him trying to get Callie on his side, too.”

“Aside from the weird thing with the flowers, he did say she needed her own space for PT stuff. Sounded like he wanted to upgrade her.”

I snort. “He’s trying to win over my fiancée with a fancy new office. They really won’t stop until I have nothing left.”

“Again, not going to happen, bro. We aren’t just a team, we’re friends. You just need to rein in that temper of yours. Fight smart, you know what I’m saying?”

I do know what he’s saying. But it’s kind of hard to put out the fire when Spencer and his greasy dad are fanning the flames with a blowtorch and watering the coals with gasoline.

“In the end, everyone will see that they suck. I just want to make sure you’re still on the team when that happens.”

I rake my hands through my hair, looking around at the floral shop explosion overtaking my living room. Half of the roses have been de-petaled, but the floor is pretty much covered from the front door to the living room. The problem is that the room is still filled with buckets of bouquets.

I grab one and carry it to the far end of the room, prepared to throw a blanket over it and deal with the clean up later. Then I happen to look out the window towards the parking lot. “Shit!”

“What?”

“They’re home.”

Lance jumps up. “Who?”

“Callie!” I check my phone just as a string of texts come in from Kennedy.

Mayday!

I was going to take her out for dessert at the Creperie, but she made me come home.

We are in the parking lot.

I REPEAT—mayday!

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

We are both running around in circles like an episode ofScooby-Doo, picking up stems, throwing away trash, and lighting candles.

“You don’t even have your suit on! Weren’t you going to wear a suit?”

I look down at my track shorts and t-shirt. “Fuck!”

If we ever get a swear jar, I’ll have enough quarters to take the little guy to Disney World by the end of his first year.

Lance shoos me down the hall. “You get dressed, and I’ll finish cleaning up.”

“Right. Thanks.” I leap over the petal path to grab the suit I laid out on our bed. I was going to shower, but there’s obviously no time for that.

I dress in record time and make my way back out. “This look okay?”

“Hang on.” Lance fixes my lapels and then wipes a fake tear from his cheek. “I’m proud of you, man.”

Out in the hall, we hear the elevator ding. Kennedy is talking obnoxiously loudly.

“Alright, WELL, I hope you have a good evening now that we are HOME!”

Callie says something too that I can’t hear—probably about how weird her cousin is acting.

Then I look at Lance, who is still standing in my living room and isn’t across town in his own apartment like I planned. “Shit.”

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