Page 12 of Wicked Lies Grow Wildflowers
“Yes! I’m so excited. It’s been forever since we’ve had a girls night in. I’ll bring your favorite bottle, and do you wanna order takeout? Just snacks and popcorn? I can be there at seven?” She speaks so fast and animated, the whole conversation sounds like one long word. I honestly don’t know if she even took a breath.
I have my phone propped between my ear and shoulder as I check my pantry, my eyes roving over our options for tonight. “Let’s do snacks and popcorn, I’ve got plenty here. Seven works for me. I’ll see you soon, byeee.”
Hanging up, I glance at the time to see that she will be here in thirty-minutes. I pop some popcorn and drag out two wine glasses, my favorite sour candy, licorice, and chocolate, spreading it all out on the coffee table. I’m focused on making sure everything is aesthetic for a picture when I hear a knock at the door. It’s been thirty minutes already?
Sage’s voice is muffled through the wood as she yells, “Mae, open the door now, or I’m gonna drop the wine!” I rush to let her in, unlocking the door and swinging it open to find her standing on the other side, dressed in sweats, and clutching two bottles of wine in her hands. Merlot for her and Pinot Grigio for me—I hate reds.
She comes in and hands me a slip of paper. I look at it, puzzled.
“I found this on your welcome mat, figured you must’ve dropped it,” she says.
Taking it, I shake my head. “I don’t think it’s mine,” I murmur, my brows knitting with confusion as I unfold the small slip. My eyes scan it and my blood cools, panic setting in as I read the typed words aloud. “Did you like my flowers?”
That’s all it says. No signature. Nothing else. At first I think it’s completely random but then I think back to the flowers dropped at my door a week ago. Somewhere deep in my chest, I justknowsomeone didn’t mistakenly drop them at all; theywere most definitely left for me. My hands start to shake as Sage’s voice filters through, “Mae, what does that mean? What flowers?”
In a daze, I walk over to the couch and plop down. Sage does the same, settling in. “The flowers I got last week. They were left at my door but I thought maybe a neighbor just dropped them or something.”
“Okay, well, that’s weird, but I wouldn’t jump to the worst case scenario. Just take some deep breaths. Maybe you just have a harmless admirer? Are any coworkers at the office into you?” she asks, but even she isn’t sounding convinced.
“No. No one. Sage Idon’thave anadmirer. I don’t have a clue who could have done this. I haven't even talked to a guy in forever, let alone brought someone here. No random person would know where I live. None of mycoworkerseven know where I live.”
“Okay, okay, well, let’s just lock the door and try to relax. No one can get in with the door locked, okay? I can call the police if you want and they can search the area but I don’t think they’ll find anyone. Whoever left the note is long gone by now," she reasons.
“No, no cops. They wouldn’t do anything, anyways. There’s nothing for them to go off. No crime, no cameras to see who did this—nothing. They’ll tell me there isn’t anything to worry about and there probably isn’t, but it’s so weird. And honestly, I’ve felt off recently, like I was being followed. I probably sound crazy right now.”
I grab my wine and crack the plastic seal before taking a swig straight from the bottle, needing the alcohol to hit my system immediately. Sage continues her attempt to make me feel better as I drink.
“You’re not crazy. It’s normal to be a little paranoid from time to time. Have you been sleeping well? Extra stressed atwork? Give me a catch up and maybe we can figure out what’s going on.”
“Ihavehad a busy last two weeks, and I am probably not sleeping as much as I should, but my mind just doesn’t shut off at night. I’m either wondering and worrying about my mom’s whereabouts, or thinking about that guy from the bar,” I sigh.Shit. I didn’t need to let that little factoid slip. To avoid meeting Sage’s gaze, I pour myself a glass of Pinot; might as well be a little more dignified if I’m going to be intoxicated during an interrogation.
Sage looks at me with wide brown eyes. “Wait. Guy at the bar… liketheguy from the bar?! You haven’t updated me about the sexy mystery man since that first night! Come on, tell meeverythingyou’ve been holding out on. Spare no details. I want it all.” Sage’s movements are so animated that I’m surprised she hasn’t spilled the glass she’s holding.
“Yes,thatguy. When we went back out two weeks ago, he was there again. That’s why I wanted to go back, to see if I could find him again.” I swirl my wine around, my face burning at her questioning.
Confusion laces her words when she asks, “Wait, I thought you didn’t see his face? How’d you find him and know it was him if you didn’t know what he looked like?”
“I didn’t—he foundme. Someone came up and danced with me the same exact way as on my birthday, and I justknewit was him. He felt and smelled the same. And when I asked for his name, he wouldn’t give it to me.” I continue to give her a rundown of the night, knowing she’s expecting juicier details, but I have none to give.
“Oh my gosh, and you still don’t have an identity?!” She yells the last word and looks like she’s ready to jump off the couch.
“Actually…” I start sheepishly. “I do. I had a showing last weekend andhewas my client. He just walked into the showinglike nothing was amiss, and when I saw his face, everything clicked. Mystery man is the same man I ran into by the bathroom at White Rabbit, the weird guy I told you about who was a total douchebag.Hewas the same guy I was dancing with. I recognized his voice and he let on that he knew me.”
“What?! I vaguely remember the bathroom incident but you’re sure he went to your showing? Do you think he found out where you worked or was it a coincidence? What’s his name? Do I know him? Wait, he was an asshole to you, but also found you not once, but twice? What the hell?”
“Xander, and no, you don’t know him. I couldn’t tell you if the showing was intentional or not, though. I gave him my middle name at the bar, so I don’t know how he could’ve found me. But then the flowers and the note have me questioning it. I haven’t seen or heard from him again since the showing, though.” My glass clinks against the table top as I set it down and reach for my sour candy, the sound of the plastic bag crinkling fills the awkward silence. I can feel Sage calculating what to say next.
“Okay, this is all so fucking weird. Are yousureyou don’t want to call the cops? What if he’s actually a serial killer and you’re next on his list?” She asks, picking up the remote to the TV. I can’t tell if she’s joking about the serial killer part or not, and the bartender’s words from a couple weeks ago come back to me.
“No cops, and I highly doubt that, but have you heard anything about dead bodies popping up in the area?”
“I vaguely heard something on the news, but I tried not to listen too much. You know I don’t stomach those things well. But you’re probably right, if Xander was the serial killer you’d likely already be dead. I’m staying the night anyways, just to be safe—I don’t want to leave you alone. I can be scary, and I will takeanyonedown for you,” she pledges. Well then, I guess she isn’t fully trusting of his innocence after all.
I know she would fight tooth and nail for me, but there’s nothing that the cops can do at this point. I don’t want to call them and I really don’t think there’s a chance of Xander being a danger to me. And the note and flowers could be completely unrelated. He doesn’t know where I live—he couldn’t. I’m probably just grasping at straws.
We settle on a movie, spending the night gorging ourselves on snacks and gossip. I feel a lot lighter, happier, and more myself with Sage here as we partake in old shenanigans. My worries slip away as the night wears on and by the time morning comes, I almost forget there’s anything wrong at all.
CHAPTER TEN
