ME: By the way, who the hell are you?

“There. Done.” I showed them the screen once more before putting my phone away again. “As soon as I get an answer, I’ll let you know.”

“I can’t wait,” Halley drawled. “Are we still going out on Friday?”

“If by going out you mean ordering pizza and vegging on my sofa, yes,” I replied. “Preston feeds the raccoons now. You can have a night off.”

She frowned. “He has a weird friendship with Boris. I caught him searching for a big old branch for him the other day and he refused to speak about it.”

Ava smirked. “Maybe he’s teaching Boris how to be faithful to Betty after the stuffed raccoon incident.”

Halley paused, then shivered. “We will never speak of that again. I still can’t look at the damn thing without getting mental replays of his little ass going like the clappers.”

“Neither can we,” I say dryly. “Since you showed us the videos.”

“Preach that,” Ava muttered.

***

It’d been two days since I’d texted Dick Guy and I’d had no response to me asking who he was.

It was fine.

It wasn’t the end of the world. It was Friday, it was girls’ night, and all I had to do was get through the last few hours of work and I could drink as many margaritas as I wanted because I didn’t have to work tomorrow.

Cue fireworks.

All right, it wasn’t fine.

Realistically, I knew that there was a slim chance our paths could cross in real life. Logic dictated that if he was matching with women who lived in South Carolina, he lived there or thereabouts.

And Creek Falls, South Carolina, was where I happened to live.

Part of me wanted to know who he was, and the rest of me wanted to never speak to him again. Unfortunately for me, the curious part of me was pretty strong and persuasive.

Which was why it was super annoying that he hadn’t replied and told me his name.

I mean, I’d seen his penis.

Erect.

The least he could do was tell me his name.

That was common courtesy.

At least when these images came on the internet, you knew what to call a guy.

I served a huge bouquet of roses to a guy who had ‘I’m About To Propose’ written all over his face. I handed him back his credit card with a few words of encouragement, which seemed to calm him a little.

He was followed by a young woman who screamed ‘Someone Just Died’ who asked for my help in picking an appropriate bouquet for her grieving boss. We picked a selection of lilies, hydrangeas, and a few roses in shades of white and cream, and I packaged them up with an appropriate card for her.

The rest of the day went much the same way. It was a steady stream of people until around half an hour before closing when I made a start on the behind-the-scenes jobs.