Tulips

The sprouting weeds nestled between plants are missing, and there's a layer of black mulch that makes the greenery pop. Considering the lack of amusement around here and the issue of my parents wondering about my job details, I thought I could start gardening for The Boss.

I enable the alarm on my car and swing my backpack over my shoulder. The front door opens and Pebbles wanders out. He shoves his hand into the front pocket and slouches.

"Hey, Boss." I smile.

"You're early."

"I was going to weed the garden." I glance around. "Looks like someone else beat me to it.

"Do you really want to pull weeds out?" He cocks an eyebrow up.

"Maybe, it's a long story." I shrug.

"Should I make popcorn?" He chuckles.

"Oh no, it's not that interesting. My parents are being weird and I wanted to get out of the house before I end up in their interrogation room."

The Boss tilts his head and frowns.

"They're complaining that I don't come home dirty enough to be a gardener. I'm not sure what they're expecting, though."

"I can have you rip the garden out and re-do it. I'm growing tired of the lavender."

"Oh gosh, no, please don't do that on my account." I gasp.

"How about a pit of dirt?"

"Much better, thank you." I giggle. "Anyway, I should get going otherwise, Austin might suspect I'm bailing on him or something."

"That's why I wanted to speak with you. Austin is taking your shift. Since the cancelation is last minute, I'll still pay you."

"Why is he getting my shift? Is there something wrong? I thought I proved myself."

Pebbles raises his hand and motions for me to come closer. I keep walking until he signals to stop. By that point, we're three feet apart.

His eyes trail over my body and my stomach twists.

"Austin is investigating, and I'd prefer him to handle the situation because I'd hate for your beautiful face to be bruised."

My jaw drops and his chuckling jolts me out of shock.

I straighten my posture and frown. "Thank you for the concern, but I can handle myself."

"I know you're capable of handling yourself, but I don't want you involved."

"Fine," I grumble.

His words dance through my mind as I storm to the car.

A smile threatens to spread across my lips, but I bite the inside of my cheek and slide into the car. He cares about me, or at least I think he does.

I bet he calls all the women who fall into his bed beautiful. My heart sinks; those words aren't special coming from his lips.

I slam the car door and start the engine. Pebbles stands by the house, watching as I reverse. There's something freeing about racing down the road with him behind me.

Was he trying to distract me, or does he actually think that? He's a mystery I might never understand.

* * * * *

"Tikera, is that you, hun?" Mum shouts.

Oh shit, the lunch date with the Sherman's, how could I forget? I glance at the door, then up the stairs.

"Tikera Jamie Copeland, why won't you answer me?"

"Yes." I sigh. "It's me, I just got home. Turns out he arrived earlier than expected."

"That's wonderful news! Quickly change because we're having lunch with the Sherman's today! I bet Marcus will be delighted when he sees you there."

"Yay." I roll my eyes.

"You should wear that beautiful white dress with the golden buttons."

"I was thinking about staying home because I have a cough." I cough to emphasize the lie.

"Get dressed, we're leaving soon!"

I grab ahold of the banister and pull myself up a step. By the second step, the floorboard's creek and that's when I notice Dad standing at the top glaring at me.

"You need to grow up. Marcus could be good for you."

"Fine, I'm going." I roll my eyes.

Mum is looking through my wardrobe. She has the white dress hanging over her arm, along with a pair of nude heels. She picks out matching accessories and places the outfit on my messy bed.

"You should make your bed in the morning."

"I guess I could do that now."

"Tikera," she warns.

"Gee, where's your sense of humour?" I shake my head.

"Please be good. Your father is very nervous, he's on his fourth cup of coffee."

"I think he's on a caffeine high."

"Tikera." She sighs.

"Whatever," I groan. "Can you please leave so I can change? Don't worry, I'll grab duct tape so I don't embarrass anyone during lunch."

"Why can't you, just, hm..." She huffs.

"It's just a joke." I frown. "I've never embarrassed Dad."

"You call Mr. Sherman Mr. Shitman last time." She smiles.

"He called me Tia, then complained about how I was weak. He deserved that comment."

"Mr. Sherman isn't a nice man, but he's your father's boss."

"And my soon to be father-in-law, so it seems. You two aren't subtle when it comes to matchmaking."

"I have no idea what you're talking about." She looks away and laughs.

"Ya, sure." I shake my head. "Oh Marcus, what do you think about Tikera in a white dress, perhaps a wedding dress? A summer wedding would be stunning or perhaps the beach. Do you like the beach?"

"A strapless dress with a long trail would look beautiful on you." She grins.

"Out of my room!" I point to the door.

There's no way I'd marry Marcus, even if there was a gun to my head.

* * * * *

Mrs. Sherman envelops me in a hug and leads me to a free seat beside Marcus. He shakes his head as I take a seat beside him.

"How did they manage to wrangle you into lunch?"

"There was a mix-up with work. Once I was in the entryway, I realised lunch was today and so I couldn't say no. I also love free expensive food."

"Free food is always a positive." He nods. "After we order, I can take you to the gardens to escape. I hear they're lovely plus it's all my mother could talk about on the ride over."

"Anything to kill the time sounds wonderful." I smile.

The waiter hands menus which seems like a waste since there's only three options—chicken, duck and some weird fish I've never heard of.

I order the chicken and a glass of red wine to accompany it. The waiter returns with our drinks which is amazing because our mothers take to staring at us like we're animals in a show.

"Please excuse us, we're going to view the gardens," Marcus says.

"Oh wonderful, enjoy!" Mrs. Sherman smiles.

"Thank you, Mrs. Sherman."

Marcus slides out the chair and offers his hand, which I accept. We move through the bustling restaurant to escape through the side door.

It opens to a deck which leads into the garden. I follow Marcus around the corner to a secluded area that shields us from people sitting inside.

"I'm sorry about this. My father thinks that if I get married, then I'll settle down and take work seriously. I've always hated accounting, a wife isn't going to change that. My mother has always been fond of you, so that doesn't deter her from wild dreams."

"It's okay, my parents are acting the same. Well, my father is. He hates that I'd dropped out of school to be a gardener since it's clearly beneath me."

"Parents are odd." He laughs.

"They say one thing but do another." I shake my head.

"Regardless, they are right about one thing." He smiles.

"The garden is beautiful today! I love the tulips covering the ground, it's a nice pop of colour."

"That, and you do look exquisite today."

"Thanks, Marcus."

"I know you're not interested, but my parents want me to ask you on a date. I can pick you up, we can have food at an expensive restaurant, or whatever you want to do."

"I, um, hm."

"You just told me you love free expensive food."

"Okay, sure."

"Now let's have some fun before we have to go back inside." He sighs.

Marcus grabs a tin from his jacket and pops it open to reveal a joint and a lighter. I glance away, but my attention wanders back.

Marcus places the joint between his lips and lights the end. He puts the lighter and case in his pocket before exhaling a cloud of smoke.

"I didn't realise your Dad was that bad."

"Trust me, he is." Marcus draws a second puff and extending it to me.

The end is subtly burning and the funky smell lingers in the air. He nudges it closer and smiles.

"It'll make lunch bearable."

My hand takes it from him. What am I doing? I don't smoke—I never smoke! Yet, here I am, placing it between my lips. I can't control my body.

"So the good girl has a bad side."

His comment makes me internally laugh. If only he knew the whole truth.

As I take a puff, I splatter through a dry cough. Marcus pats my back as he erupts with laughter.

"Try again, but hold it a little longer otherwise you'll miss it."

I should stop but I try again because this isn't the worst thing I've done. Marcus grins as I inhale a breath and pass it back.

"Let it go."

A cloud of smoke drifts into the air as I cough the tickle away.

"Shoot, give me that." He tosses it onto the ground and stamps it out. The door opens and Mr. Sherman pokes his head outside and frowns.

"The food has been served." He abruptly leaves, the door swinging shut.

"Do you think he saw us?"

Marcus booms with laughter. "I doubt it. He never notices anything I do."

"Oh."

He pockets the joint, then presses his hand on my lower back so he can guide me inside.

We take our seats and Mr. Sherman looks at me. My stomach knots with sickness. Maybe I'm overreacting or it's an effect from the drugs? Ugh, I'm never doing that again.

* * * * *

Do you think Mr. Sherman noticed?