"Oh, I see," I nod, as if that's a good reason. "Well, these flowers aren't going to be loaded if we stand here, chit chatting all afternoon."
"Oh my god, you're right." Sam slaps her leg. "Why didn't I think of that?" She rolls her eyes and turns back toward the storeroom.
My friends are as bad as my mom. I'm basically best friends with a version of her. I'm not exactly sure what that says about me.
Thirty minutes. That's how long it's taken us to get the flowers situated, and not even a quarter of them loaded into the van. It's a slow process for two reasons. One, because the bride has asked us to bring several types of flowers. And two...the rain.
On a normal day, this would have been done by now. But because one of us has to hold an umbrella over the flowers while the other one carefully gets into the van; it's a whole thing and it takes two of us each trip. So, when one duo is loading, the other one is right behind and repeats.
I'm also thrilled I changed because I'm already soaked. The little rain ponchos Kate brought are doing absolutely nothing. We need full on rain suits for this job. But I will not complain. At least I have a job that supports me and David, and puts food on the table. Even if it can be very frustrating.
"Hey Sam," I call to the back. "How many more flowers do we have to load?"
"A lot," she replies. "We may have to take two trips.” That's exactly what we need. Any other day, it wouldn't be a problem. Two trips would take no time at all. Today, however, it's a time suck. And I'm wondering if I'm even going to be able to climb into bed tonight.
I'm preparing for the next trip out to the van when a voice comes from the back door. "Anything I can help with?"
My body freezes. Why is he here?
12
Carlos
From the wayCaroline's entire body stiffens, I don't know if coming over here was my best idea.
"Wh-what are you doing here?" Her voice breaks at the beginning, and I feel bad for making her uncomfortable, and putting her on the spot.
Well, this is awkward. Her friends are crowded behind her, doing a bad job of looking unsuspecting while listening in. "I told you I'd come help."
Her cheeks are turning pink. "You said to call you if we needed help. Not that you'd drop by."
Yep. This was a big mistake. The friendliness we showed each other this morning has vanished. Maybe that's only a side of her I'll see when we're alone. Either way, I miss the camaraderie we had only a few hours ago.
"I'm sorry." I point to where my car is parked. "I can leave. We were just dead at the bar and figured Eric could handle the responsibility while I lent a hand."
"No, don't go," one of her friends, I can't remember her name, calls out as I turn around, "we really could use your help."
Those words stop me. Her friends could be the key to having her open up. To helping not see our arrangement as completely fake.
"Sam," Caroline hisses with her jaw clenched.
"What?" Sam shrugs. "He looks like he has room in his car to put some plants, and we definitely need someone to speed up the process. Even if he just holds the umbrella for us as we walk back and forth."
"You can't just offer up his car." She argues as if I'm not right there, listening in on a conversation that is about me, but obviously doesn't include me.
"But I can," I grin, "I'll do whatever y'all need me to. I only need to be back by eight. I have a feeling once the rain dies down, the bar will be crowded."
"Then why bother helping?" Caroline waves her hands in the air. Why is she so adamant about this?
"Because I want to." I wave her toward me to speak privately. It's raining, but I really need her friends not to overhear us.
She walks slowly toward me. Each step measured and calculated. Not that I blame her. It is raining after all. "Why do you want to help us so much," she whispers.
Her friends are leaning as far out of the door as possible, without getting wet, and I can see why she's lowered her voice. "Firstly, because I want to. Angie wants to give Eric extra work, and this seemed like a good time. Secondly, if we're going to be dating, people are going to have to see us together."
"You have a point." She pulls the hood of the rain poncho tighter over her head. A moment of indecision flashes through her eyes before she reaches down and slides her hand into mine. "Let the charade begin."
It should bug me she uses charade to describe this. But it doesn't because right now, that's all this is to her. I'm definitely going to have my work cut out getting her to have actual feelings for me. Well, more than platonic, that is.