Page 32 of Wild Flower

Archer doesn’t budge, standing in front of her like a warrior who won’t waiver when tortured. “God damn you, you long-haired prick!” she barks. “I told you to knock this off, you little shit.”

We’re definitely getting fired.

“I let it slide back when you went into remission,” Arie continues. “I wasn’t about to rain on anyone’s second chance, but—”

Remission?I look at Archer, but he avoids my eyes. What’s she talking about?

“It’s been a year, Archer,” Arie growls. “So, buck up and stop playing the I-don’t-have-a-future card.”

“I wasn’t playing any card,” Archer says through gritted teeth.

“You were definitely playing that gorgeous woman!”

“Playing is relative,” Archer replies. “And frankly, none of your business.”

“Then don’t do it at my restaurant!” Arie barks. “And you!” Her finger flies into my face again. “Did you seriously fall for his live-life-to-the-fullest-because-you-might-die-tomorrow bullshit?”

“Might die—?” I look at Archer, confused. “Remission?”

“Really?” Arie hisses. “He wrapped you into this and he didn’t even play the cancer card on you?”

“You have cancer?” I ask, and Archer’s eyes darken.

“Had,” he corrects.

“Exactly,had,” Arie echoes angrily. “As in past tense. As in you still work here and aren’t licking the grim reaper’s asshole. So, stop trying to fuck up my restaurant and get me shut down! I like you, Archer. You’re a good employee. But this stops, right now!”

“Yes, Ma’am,” Archer replies, only there’s a back hand to his tone that makes me certain Arie’s going to use the spike of her stiletto to stab him.

“It won’t happen again,” I say, trying to cut the tension, but Arie’s finger is in my face again.

“Question two,” she hisses. “And don’t fuck this one up, Finn.”

I swallow hard and bump into the generator to my left.

“Do youwanther to be your girlfriend?”

My eyes get wide. “W-what?” I stutter, looking desperately between Arie and Archer.

“I said don’t fuck this up! There’s a right answer to this question, Finn, and there’s a wrong one that gets you fired. Don’t look at him.” Her red fingernail flies into Archer’s face like a rogue talon. “Archer has played plenty of bullshit games on my dime, and he’s exhausted his cancer card.” Her eyes snap to him with a whip of fire. “But you, Finn? What are you playing at with that gorgeous woman in there?”

“Becca,” I say softly, and Arie raises her eyebrows mockingly.

“Good,” she sasses. “I’m glad you at least know her name. Now give me one reason not to fire your ass for practically pissing all over her like you need to claim her in front of everybody.”

Shit.

I’m not entirely sure how to play this. Arie’s been dating Connor ever since I started working here, so maybe she’s a romantic. But the rumors are she was the player of players before they got together. Maybe she wants to know that this was a fling, and I’ll never see Becca again. Or maybe this is a women-standing-up-for-women stunt.

“Silence isn’t going to help you, Finn,” Arie grumbles when I don’t answer. “Pleading the fifth is the number one way to guarantee I fire you.”

“It was my idea,” Archer butts in.

“I didn’t ask you,” Arie snaps.

“But I’m the one you should punish,” Archer defends. “I dragged him into it, and obviously I have a pattern, so I’m the one you should—”

“How condescending of you to think your cohort can’t speak for himself and doesn’t have free will,” Arie interrupts. “He can make his own decision. I know what your game is, Archer. The question is, why did he get involved?”

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