Page 131 of Save the Date
“‘Hi. I’ll come by the shop tomorrow to pick up my paycheck for ten hours worked. I’m assuming you won’t be taking out taxes or social security? Sincerely, Virginia Best.’”
Cara’s fingertips flew over the keyboard.
Hi Ginny. The bill for the emergency after-hours vet clinic for treating Poppy for heat stroke and deyhydration came to four hundred and fifty dollars. How about we call it even and you never come near here again? Otherwise you won’t have to worry about a dog attacking you. I’ll bite you my ownself. Sincerely, Cara Kryzik.
She read it aloud for Poppy’s approval. “What do you think, girl?”
The dog’s eyes were half closed. Her tail switched, and emitted a short, noxious blast of gas.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” Cara hit the Send button.
53
Poppy seemed good as new by Friday morning. Cara took her out for a brief early-morning stroll at 7:30, taking a cautionary interest in her urine output, as the vet tech had suggested. All was well.
Except that she was running a one-woman show again. Reluctantly concluding that there was no way she could do it all, Cara referred phone and email orders to another downtown florist, and even paid the florist to deliver the few arrangements Ginny Best had finished before her Thursday banishment.
Cara was working on placing the Trapnell order with her California shipper when the office phone rang. She grabbed the receiver.
“Bloom. This is Cara.”
“Hi Cara, it’s Meredith. Have you talked to your bride today?”
“Which bride?”
“Brooke Trapnell. She was supposed to sit for her wedding portrait in my studio today. She’s nearly an hour late.”
Cara squeezed her eyes shut in frustration. “Have you tried to call her?”
“I don’t have her number. I made the arrangements with you, remember?”
“Okay, okay. I’ll call and suggest she get her tiny little heinie over there pronto. Sorry for the hassle.”
She considered her best strategy for contacting Brooke Trapnell. Emails were a waste of time, and phone calls were iffy at best. A text just might get the girl’s attention.
Brooke! Call me ASAP! Very important! Cara
Ten minutes later, when she’d still had no reply, she tried again.
Brooke! Don’t make me call Patricia.
Her phone rang almost as soon as the text sent.
“Very funny,” Brooke said, chuckling. “What’s so important that you had to threaten to bring in the big guns?”
“Do you know what day it is?” Cara asked.
“It’s Friday. Lunchtime. I only know that because everybody else in my office is eating lunch, while I’m still sitting at my desk buried in Georgia code.”
“You’re supposed to be at the photographer’s,” Cara said pointedly.
“Oh hell! I completely forgot. I had a deposition that ran long this morning, and my whole day has been screwed up.”
“You were due there almost an hour ago.”
“I can’t get away now, that’s for sure. Give me her number, and I’ll call and rebook.”
“Do both of us a favor and see that you do, okay? Otherwise your stepmother is going to hound me into an early grave. She wants that wedding portrait as a belated Father’s Day gift for your dad.”
