The Ladybug Jinx (13 page)

“I don’t think I have ever said good morning to my employer that way.” Marty grinned.

“It’s about time. Kerri Ann and I talk about how cute you two are together all the time. Plus Hazel Greenlee’s been driving me crazy.”

Sam walked over and shook Marty’s hand. “I hope you don’t mind if I date your daughter.”

“Not at all.” Marty hugged Sam.

“What about me? Don’t I have a say in this?” Celia questioned the two men.

“No,” they said in unison.

Quickly they got the flowers in the Chevy. He had to be in Lexington for the interview and all the arrangements had to be delivered before his radio interview in Lexington.

Sam took the white tulips straight to the west wing room number two. Fall decorations were everywhere, except door number two. Sam knocked.  The old man took the flowers and didn’t look Sam in the eyes.

“Forgiveness.” Sam spoke lightly as the door was shutting in his face.

The man’s eyeball was visible in the crack of the door.

“Yes—forgiveness.” The gentleman’s voice cracked.

He stood face to face with Sam. He wasn’t a fragile old man. He stood tall and thin. He wore jeans, white tee shirt and grey cardigan. A man after Sam’s heart.

“White tulips mean forgiveness.” Sam pointed to the arrangement cradled in the wrinkled hands.

“Yes, I know.” The man lifted the tulips up to his nose, stepped back and shut the door.

Alrighty then
, Sam thought. At least he got the man to speak. But it only peeked his curiosity. Who was sending those flowers, and why do they need his forgiveness?

*

Celia was steaming. She could hardly do any of the upcoming arrangements or even the base to get ready to put the fresh flowers in. She paced the floors with Charlie close on her heels.

“I can not believe this.” Celia looked down at Charlie. She swears he knows what she is staying sometimes. “The nerve of him. I knew he was too good to be true.”

Celia ran to the front door when she heard a door slam.

“It better be him.” She told Charlie.

Celia looked out at the rickety old Chevy taking up too much space in her driveway or was she letting Sam take up too much of her heart?

She stood with her arms crossed just inside the door. She wanted him to instantly see her displeasure.

“I can’t believe you would put my reputation on the line!” Sudden anger lit her eyes.

She completely caught Sam off guard. He put his hands up to protect himself in case she hit him. “Where are they?” She stormed out of the shop to search his truck.

“Where’s what?” Sam asked.

Celia couldn’t believe he’d taken her for a fool.

She stopped herself by the tone of his voice. “You are hiding something. I can tell. You forget I was a lawyer and I had a talent of being able to read a liar.” She opened his truck door and began rummaging through the storage behind the torn seat.

At least he stood back and watched helplessly.

The harder she threw stuff around in his truck, the more he laughed. She was done being the one who got stomped on.

“What are you laughing at?” She backed out of the truck with a little dirt on the knees of her black pants and her florist’s apron.

“You.” He pointed to her knees. “I have no clue what you are talking about. But you are one hot lady when you get mad.”

“The-yellow-smiling-face-yellow-roses-boutique! Where is it?” Her words were static and drawn out.

She hoped her eyes were burning a hole in him because they felt like they were on fire.

“Oh those.” Sam’s grin turned down in a frown. His laughter stopped.

“Did you drop them and you were afraid to tell me? Did the hospital not accept them to be delivered?”

Celia searched for any type of sign he had a good reason to not deliver the flowers. She could see pain in his eyes. But why? What was he hiding after all of these weeks?

“I gave them to someone else.” Sam quietly said.

Celia stormed up the cobblestone walkway. “You’re fired!” She screamed without turning around. “You’re fired!”

It was louder the second time. She wanted to make sure he heard her. She didn’t hear Charlie’s paws following her.

She looked back and Charlie was sitting at Sam’s feet.

“Charlie, come on.” Charlie stared at her and didn’t budge.

“Celia, let me explain.” Sam and Charlie started towards the shop.

Celia took off inside and began to strip and clip the stems at an alarming rate. She didn’t want to hear what he had to say. She was angry—at herself for letting emotions get in the way of business.

“You don’t realize what it costs me. Cost the shop.” Celia was already strapped for cash and to give a refund was not good business. She pointed her bottle nosed tweezers at him. “I have to give them a refund or make another one. It’s my name on the line. Do you know anything about a brand or a name? My name! Not Sam Reynolds, wanderer!”

“I couldn’t do it.” Sam braced himself against the farm table and stared at her. “She looked at me.”

Celia’s body began to soften. His voice was sincere and kind, making it hard for her to be mad. She was more accepting of what he was going to say. “She was really sick. When she spoke it was soft, gentle like.”

Before he turned away from her, she swore she saw a tear in his eye.

“I’m listening.” Celia was still.

“I couldn’t deliver flowers that mean joyful when she was not joyful. She reminded me of Bianca.” Sam looked up. Celia’s heart was sad. “It’s too fresh for me. I’m sorry. I ran and handed them off.”

Celia didn’t know what to say. She had just experienced an emotional break through with him and didn’t want to rock the boat any more. Sure she was angry with him, but she understands agony. Especially when her grandfather died. She can still feel the pain.

“I understand, Sam. I just don’t understand why you couldn’t tell me or leave the flowers with the front desk.” Celia wanted an answer. She didn’t want to let him off scot-free.

“I didn’t think. I was unable to think.” Sam shook his head like he was confused.

“I did send another arrangement. This time I had my dad do it.” She acted like his story didn’t affect her. “I’m going to have to dock your pay for the whole sale price of the items.”

She hated to reprimand, but she needed the cash.

“So, we are good then?” Sam cleared his throat.

“Yes.” Celia put her supplies away. “Let’s get to the radio station before we are late.”

She wanted to put this in the past—along with his. The sooner he healed, the quicker he’d be hers.

*

The drive to the radio station involved several deliveries, lots of hand holding and a lot about Celia’s dreams.

“I’ve always loved flowers. As you know, my grandfather was a great influence on me.” Sam delighted in her little girl excitement. “He told me all about his trip to England and the English florist. All though I’ve never been, I did a lot of research to make my shop a mock English florist.”

Sam took great pleasure in hearing about her dreams and aspirations. It was reassuring to hear other people’s dreams and how exciting it is to work towards those dreams. Sam never knew how hard to work to achieve his goals. He was told from a very young age, “you are going to be a star.” He doesn’t even remember his first commercial, pushing baby food.

*

It felt as if he had always lived here with her in her community. The wee voice in the back of mind knew he couldn’t live with the secret forever. Eventually he would have to tell her who he really was.

“Thank you, Sam, for being here.” The radio host spoke into the microphone.

“You’re welcome.” Sam looked over at Celia who had stars in her eyes.

She couldn’t stop telling him how natural he was answering questions and revealing answers about flowers she didn’t even know.

“Sam we have to know before you go, how do you know so much about flowers? Come on you’re a hunky guy.” The woman’s eye’s burned with desire.

“Let’s say I’ve always had great female influences in my life.” He flashed his million dollar smile. The girls in the studio were falling all over themselves trying to get a glimpse of the romantic hunk that was sensitive.

*

“You were great.” She leaned over and kissed his scruffy cheek. “All those girls wish they were me. But you’re mine.”

“Yes, baby, I’m yours.” He rubbed he thumb down her cheek and across her lips. “Hey, I meant to tell you that delivery at the retirement home. He talked to me. I said tulips means forgiveness and he said yes.”

“That’s all?” Celia questioned.

“Yep. I wonder who needs his forgiveness?” Sam keeps his eyes on the road. “He seems like a nice old man.”

“I hope they don’t do it soon.” Celia said with no sadness. “I’m so proud of you. You have really started to put roots down here.”

Celia’s right,
Sam thought. Her hand felt soft against his fingers. He needed to call his agent and tell him he’s not coming back anytime soon, if at all.

“Aren’t you staying?” Celia looked confused and hurt when Sam didn’t get out of the truck.

“No. I have a few things to take care of. But I might be back later tonight.” He didn’t like disappointing her, but he had to take care of business if he wanted a future with her.

It was time to call Bart, his agent. Bart Grandy was the most sought agent in Los Angeles. Only the elite were his clients, and Sam was at the top.

When he turned on his phone, his Blackberry registered twenty messages. Sam was getting good at ignoring the blinking light.

“Bart.” Sam spoke calmly.

“Where are you?” Bart frantically asked. “Don’t worry about a thing. I will take care of everything. Just let me know where you are and we will get you home—quietly.”

“I’m not coming back. At least for a while.” Sam didn’t make a quiver. It was time to stand his ground.

“Oh no you won’t. You have obligations. Your new movie starts shooting in three weeks.” Bart ranted on. “Sam, remember the hoops I had to jump through so they would cast you over George Pitt?” He pleaded for Sam to listen to reason.

“Pitt can have it.” Sam was tired of the rat race. He was tired of kissing butt to get a role.

“Where are you Sam?” Bart demanded to know.

“I’m not telling you.” Sam didn’t like to be strong armed. Especially since he had a taste of freedom over the past few weeks.

“Are you on drugs?”

“No. You know I don’t touch that junk.” Sam had always taken pride in the fact he never went down that Los Angeles route. He stayed clear of drugs and the actors that did them.

“I think you’re crazy.” Bart crossed the line. “Okay, sorry for that, but you really need help. And I can’t help you if I don’t know where you are.”

“I don’t need your help.” Sam was about to let him in on a secret. “I have someone helping me.”