Page 34 of Blue Collar Babes

He never deserved it. Not that I do, but he sure as hell doesn’t.

I don’t know why I let Craig get to me. He’s a silver-spoon-fed dickwad who’s been convinced of his superiority since he was old enough to say “I come from money.” I didn’t care about his money when we were kids, and I care even less now. I only care that he won the affection of the girl I fell in love with in kindergarten and he’s been reckless with her heart.

It has been fun watching his irritation over her and I remaining friends. How dare his wife enjoy conversations with a delivery driver. Then again, he’s never been a fan of her chosen profession. She gets too dirty.

He never understood getting dirty is part of her charm.

I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve brought packages to her shop and she’s had soil on her cheek or the tip of her nose. Always in her red polka-dot gardening gloves so she doesn’t risk getting human oils or bacteria on the plants.

She’s most radiant when she’s messy.

I approach the shop, looking around. Her SUV isn’t in the lot. Disappointment seeps through me, but I remind myself to smile despite not seeing the one person I look forward to each day.

Margie and Brielle have their heads together, talking about the latest gossip in the tabloids. They’re an unusual pair. Margie is in her late sixties, conservative with her clothes and silver-bobbed hair, while Brielle, on the other hand, changes her hair color on a whim. Today, she has a rainbow mohawk paired with black lipstick and heart-shaped glasses.

“Oooh, our hottie delivery man is here! I can say that since the boss isn’t around to yell at me.”

Eyes rolling, Margie sighs. “Good afternoon, Ash. What do you have for us today?”

I shrug and turn to Brielle. “With how you behave, I’m surprised the boss left you unattended.”

“Please. Nothing was keeping her here today. She’s finally a free woman.”

“Brielle!” Margie shakes her head.

“What? Don’t pretend you aren’t thrilled she’s no longer shackled to the douche-pickle.”

“I think Margie means you shouldn’t tell other people her business.”

“Please. River may not have told us how you know each other, but it’s obvious you’re close. We’re going to figure it out, though, aren’t we, Margie?”

She’s still shaking her head, but the twinkle in her eyes says she’s down for whatever trouble Brielle can get them into.

I’m leaving before they corner me. If River didn’t tell them who I am, I'm not filling in the blanks. Although, I’m not sure why she’s felt the need to keep our friendship a secret.

Before I can think too long about it, Brielle sidles up next to me, her lips quirked up on one side. “So…” she clucks her tongue, “is it because you’re the hotter younger brother? Is that why he’s so jealous?”

“What? Who? I—”

“Jason Momoa. Is that why I’ve never seen you pictured with him or on the TV at red-carpet events? I knew he had a flaw. He’s mean to his little brother.”

Margie’s sigh could blow over every plant in the shop. All I can do is laugh.

“He’s got nothing but love for me. Best big brother ever.” I wink at Margie before I grab the door handle. “Have a great day, ladies. See you with the next delivery.”

I’m almost out the door when Brielle tosses out, “I hope you’re on your way to see her.”

If only I could.

As much as I want to go straight to her, congratulate her, hug her, say all the things I’ve held back over the years…I can’t. I still have packages in my truck. Customers don’t care that the woman of my dreams got a divorce and I need to check on her.

That’s a lie. I don’t need to check on her. I want to.

I want to pull her into my arms, kiss her until we’re breathless, and beg her to admit she thinks about me as much as I think about her.

If only that were true.

The theme of our story.If onlyI had asked her to prom, maybe Craig wouldn’t have had the chance.If onlyI’d told her I had a crush on her, maybe she wouldn’t have said yes when he asked her out.If onlyI told her the truth about loving her, maybe she wouldn’t have married him.

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