Page 34 of Strelitzias in Spring

Wolf: You sure about that? It was pretty bad when I saw it on Friday night.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I mumble to myself, pressing down hard on my screen as the water starts to boil inside the kettle.

Serena: Should I send you a picture to show I’m not lying?

Text bubbles appear and disappear on the phone before a message comes through.

Wolf: I’m going to pretend like you didn’t just ask me that shit. I want you in the shop by Saturday so that I can take a look at your back and have Sloan meet with you.

Furrowing my brow, I puzzle over why he seemed annoyed with me in his last text and why it took him so long to respond. Reading back my words, I’m horrified by the insinuation of what I just asked.

“Why can’t I just be a functional human being when speaking to a man, God? Why do you hate me so freaking much?” I ask.

Serena: That’s not what I meant, and you know it. But fine, sir. I’ll call Aubrey tomorrow and set up something for the cover-up.

Wolf: Call now.

I roll my eyes at his authoritative text. I may be deeply mortified by my undeniable skill at putting my foot in my mouth, but he is the grumpiest human being I have ever encountered. And I’m friends with his cousin, so that’s saying a lot.

Serena: Yes, sir.

His response is immediate.

Wolf: You’re skating on thin fucking ice, princess.

Swiping up from our chat, I set my phone down and pour the hot water over the fresh mint leaves I picked from my small window box. I may not have any grass, but there are some things I refuse to buy, like mint and chamomile, since I drink herbal tea so frequently.

Setting my mug aside to steep, I google Ink and Needle and click on the phone number, placing it on speakerphone before I set it down next to my mug.

“Ink and Needle, Aubrey speaking.”

I clear my throat, suddenly nervous at the prospect of this conversation. “Yes, hi, Aubrey. This is Serena Castillo, Celeste Downing’s friend. Wolf asked me to call and—”

Aubrey cuts me off with a gentle laugh. “Hi Serena, I was expecting your call. Just give me a minute to pull up Wolf and Sloan’s schedule for the rest of this week, okay?” I hear clicking in the background, the sound calming me down. “Alright, do you have a day or time that works best?”

“Uh, I guess Friday afternoon or Saturday morning? My schedule is pretty heavy with classes and coursework during the week, so those probably work best for me if their schedules can accommodate it.”

“Alright, let me see,” Aubrey mumbles, though I suspect that it’s more to herself than to me. “Okay, they can fit you in on Friday at seven. Does that sound good?”

“Yes, yes, that sounds good.” I pause, clearing my throat. “That works well.”

Aubrey laughs again, a light, tinkling sound that seems to emit genuine joy. “Great, we’ll see you then. Oh, and Serena,” she says, “I’m happy you’re coming back. Wolf is the best at what he does, and if something needs to be fixed or covered up, no one is more talented than him.”

“Oh, no. He’s not doing the piece, just inspecting it to make sure it’s healing. That’s why I’m meeting with Sloan, too.”

There’s no sound on the other end, and I glance down at my phone to make sure I didn’t somehow hang up. Tapping on the screen, I see that the call is still connected.

“Sure, sure,” she finally responds. “See you on Friday, Serena. I’m really looking forward to it.”

I hang up, puzzled by her parting comments.

Wolf:

Sir. She called me fucking sir, and my dick got hard like a fucking loser getting a boner over some girl he met on the internet who claims she’s a five-foot-nine blonde with fake tits, but in actuality is some guy named Chad living in his mom’s basement. I’m disgusted with myself and more than a little turned on at the images in my head that a title like “sir” is accompanied by.

Sick, twisted, perverted old man.

But, like a glutton for punishment, I can’t help but reach out to her again after I see her name pop up in my appointment calendar.

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