Page 47 of Kissing the Boss (Fairy Tale Quartet 2)

Shaw glanced uncertainly between the three of us on the other side of the counter. “I’m confused,” he said slowly, looking worried. “How is it bad to buy a woman flowers in order to show her you’re interested in her?”

We gaped at him as if he were insane before Gabby growled, “It’s bad because I asked him to stop. Repeatedly. I understand how diligence and hard work are good things to help you get what you want, but this dude passed cute persistence two dozen bouquets ago. Now it’s just creepy. He’s a freaking stalker, and you’re enabling him.”

“No!” Shaw waved his hands and took a step back. “I’m not. I swear—”

“Now he acts like I owe him something,” she continued. “I didn’t ask for any fucking flowers, and I certainly don’t want them, not from him, anyway. So I refuse to sleep with the asshole in some kind of jubilant gratitude. It’s not happening.”

“Yeah,” Shaw agreed, nodding, his eyes wide with I’m-not-sure-what. “I wouldn’t sleep with him either.”

“Right?” After motioning her agreement, Gabby set a hand on her hip and arched perfectly trimmed eyebrows. “So what’re you going to do about it?”

“Me?” A glazed, deer-in-the-headlights look crossed Shaw’s features. “I, um…”

From behind him, a woman’s voice asked, “Shaw? Is everything okay out here?”

Shaw whirled around, relief coating his features. “Isobel!” He rushed to her so he could take her arm as if seeking comfort. “Yes. I need you.” Turning her toward the dark-headed woman, he said, “Ma’am, this is Isobel, the owner.”

“Oh!” I blurted in surprise, accidentally gaining everyone’s attention, even the woman who—shock—when she looked at me head-on revealed scars on one side of her face. Flushing, I cleared my throat and waved at all the staring eyes. “Sorry.” With a cringe, I addressed Shaw. “Ignore me. I just always assumed you owned the shop.”

His smile was warm as he eased closer to Isobel. “No. I just work here. Iz is the true owner. She grows the flowers and displays the arrangements.”

I nodded and smiled at her. “Your flowers are lovely. I’d buy some every day if I could.”

Isobel nodded graciously with a regal kind of movement I would love to learn to emulate. “Thank you. Though Shaw is being far too modest. We run the place together. All the woodworks are his.”

Shaw humbly ignored that part, telling Isobel, “This is Kaitlynn, by the way, the one I was telling you about who always brings us snacks.” He turned back to me. “And this is Isobel, my better half.”

“Nice to meet you.” I reached out to shake with her. Her fingers were cool and her grip pleasantly firm.

“And this…” Shaw motioned to the redhead before picking her credit card off the counter and squinting at it. “Is Camille Blanchette,” he read. “She likes baskets—er—purses.” After handing her card back, he aimed his attention to the last woman, who was still stewing beside me.

“And this is—”

“Gabby,” she bit out with a fair amount of bitterness in her tone. But when Isobel turned to her, she straightened and cleared her throat before more respectfully saying, “Gabriella Salazar, ma’am. You have a beautiful store, here.”

While Isobel once again bowed her head in queenly thanks, I leaned toward Camille and whispered, “Gabby lives with her dad and younger brother in the same building as me and your grandma.”

Camille nodded in understanding, and Gabby glanced our way, having heard me. So I pointed to Camille. “She’s Mabel Blanchette’s granddaughter.”

“Oh!” Gabby’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. “I love Mabel. She’s such a badass.”

Camille flushed with pride and nodded her agreement. “She is.”

Across the counter from us, Shaw was busy explaining Gabby’s situation to Isobel. “…So she wants us to stop selling flowers to this guy buying from us because he’s stalking her with them and won’t stop giving her more bouquets.”

“Oh dear,” Isobel murmured before offering to Gabby, “I’m so sorry. Have you gone to the police about it?”

Gabby rolled her eyes. “They don’t care. Not until he actually does something threatening, anyway.”

“So, he’s never threatened you?” Isobel asked, wringing her hands in worry.

“No,” Gabby muttered despondently. “Nothing beyond inappropriate comments. He’s just so irritatingly cocky and expectant. He drives me up the wall with all the flowers and candy and stupid freaking persistence. And trust me, I feel bad that I’m not attracted to him in that way, but I can’t just make myself want someone. I’m not going to pretend I do, either, just to make him happy. I have more self-respect than that, and besides, it would do both of us an injustice if I faked it. Except he just doesn’t get that. It doesn’t matter how rude I am about it either; he only thinks I’m cute, when seriously, I’m this freaking close to kicking the idiot in the balls the next time he talks to me. ”

Isobel nodded as if she understood. “Next time he comes in here, Shaw will have a talk with him about respecting a woman’s prerogative.”

“I will??

? Shaw said, sounding surprised.

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