The Ladybug Jinx (3 page)

She doesn’t understand why. It’s not like they are the prettiest flower, but the rose is the most expensive. The more they spend, the better they look. If they’d only pick based on meaning alone, they’d never pick the red rose.

He wasn’t from around these parts. She knew everyone in town. Plus the blue Mercedes two door coupe was not the local favorite. That was a Ford truck. Having been a lawyer gave Celia wonderful people reading and observant skills.

“How can I help you?” Celia asked, her mind already creating a bouquet of roses.

He pulled out the newspaper from under this arm. “I am here about the ad.”

“For your son?” They must be new to the area.

“No. For me.”

“Oh, hold on.” Celia started to back into the other room to retrieve the ad from the fax machine.
Damn it, Megan
, Celia thought, what did you do? What did the ad say? Puzzled she picked up the copy.

Wanted: Delivery boy Ladybug Florist, apply in person. Ask for Celia Briggs.

She read it over and over. Nothing special, nothing deceiving. Just the logistics.

“Is the position still open?”

She turned to find him standing in the old doorway. Thank God for these old houses and large door frames.

“Yes it is. I just put the ad out today.”

“Lucky me.” He grinned, almost blinding her with his handsome good looks. “I’ll take it.”

Just like that? Celia didn’t like the cocky attitude. There was no way he was serious. She peeked back at his car. She guffawed.

“You have to be kidding me-right?” She was amused.

“I don’t understand,” he stated without a smile or a smirk. There was a thread of irritation in his voice. “I don’t joke about work. Are you taking applications or not?”

“Yes, but it doesn’t pay well and it’s not full time.” Again she looked at the car. And she confirmed it was a Mercedes.

Celia had planned the applicant to be a teenager or young adult who could make afternoon deliveries. Her father could make early deliveries.

He pointed back to the car. “That’s a loaner until my, er, truck is fixed. I really need a job to help pay for it. I need this job.” He said as he tapped on the newspaper lying down on the white farm table.

Charlie rushed in jumping up on him. He bent down to pat the excited dog.

Celia felt betrayed. Charlie was supposed to be loyal to her, not an arrogant yuppie. Celia took a dog treat out of the dog jar, luring Charlie back on her side.

“I don’t even know your name. And you haven’t even filled out an application.”

Celia had no application, but it bought her some time to get this stranger out of her life.

“Sam Reynolds. I have a great driving record.”

Celia didn’t want to shake the hand he stuck in front of her. But she did. Only to have her hand dropped shortly after he touched it.   She could see physical pain in Sam’s deep brown eyes.

“Can I have an application, please?” Sam looked down at the paper.

Celia was so taken back by his reaction from her touch, her mind had drawn a complete blank. “Um. . .I don’t have an application.” She stammered. Celia felt flush with stupidity. Something she never let a man see.

“Celia?” The bell dinged along with her father’s booming voice. Charlie had not budged. He continued to look at the new stranger in town, as mesmerized by Sam as she was.

“Here you are.” Marty walked into the room. He began to leave once he saw Sam. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you had a customer.”

“I’m not a customer. Sam Reynolds.” They shook hands.

“Marty Briggs, Celia’s father.”

Celia smiled. She could tell by the tone of her father’s voice he wanted Sam to know that he was the only man in her life.

“What can we do for you, Mr. Reynolds?” Marty asked.

“Sam, please.” Sam stood a little taller and stated why he was standing in Celia’s florist. “I’m applying for the job.”

Marty rubbed his hands together, looking pleased as punch. “See, Celia, I told ya we would find someone. And we just put the ad out.”

Celia saw Sam’s eyes light up by the warmer welcome Marty seemed to be giving him.

“Dad, could I see you upstairs please.” She pointed her finger in the way of the steps.

“Excuse us for one minute, Sam.”

She tried to be as polite as her parents had taught her, but the decision to hire Sam was up to her and she needed to stop the hemorrhage her father was creating.

“Come on Charlie.” Celia patted her leg and said before she turned the corner to go up the stairs for a little privacy.

“Dad, it’s my shop.” Celia reminded her father who was right behind her.

Thankfully Celia knew the old house like the back of her hand. The hardwood floors were old and the board just before the steps was loose and always made the worst creek when stepped on.

“See.” Celia pointed down stairs when she heard the noise. “He’s eavesdropping on us right now. We don’t know him dad and the ad is only a few hours old.”

“I know Celia, but he is here to apply and he seems normal.” Marty tried to reason with her.

Celia pulled him into the second floor living quarters she’d made her home. It was the only way she could afford a home and a shop. The three bedrooms one bath has become one bedroom, media room and efficiency kitchen. Only the efficiency kitchen is adorn with stainless steel appliances, granite counter top and island wrapped in wainscoting and two bar stools. The exposed brick made the kitchen inviting and company forget they were above a florist.

“There is something wrong with a grown man, who drives a Mercedes and wants to deliver flowers.” Celia tried to keep her voice down to a high whisper when she shut the media room door behind her.

“Maybe it’s not his car.”

Celia remembered he said something about a Ford, but she can’t recall.

“Dad, if this doesn’t pan out and he’s some kind of serial killer, you…” She pointed her finger at his chest. “You are going to start delivering full time.”

Celia flung her long silky red curls behind her shoulder and gave her father a scowl.

“Okay fine,” Marty said. “Tell him it’s a trial period. Then maybe a few more applicants will apply.”

Celia thought for a moment. She could have him do some of the far away deliveries until she finds a suitable applicant, then just tell him it’s not working out.

“Fine. But you are helping him out.” She opened the door, took a deep breath to collect her thoughts and walked down the stairs.

“I’m sure you heard us discussing your employment, Mr. Reynolds.” Celia felt her eyes narrow. She pointed to the squeaky board. “You weren’t as quiet as you thought you were.”

The red blush across the bridge of his nose and around his cheeks made Celia weak in the knees.

“I. . .” Celia looked away to calm herself, then back at Sam. “This is a paid trial. Something I’m doing with everyone who applies.”

Sam nodded. Celia wanted to smack the smirk off his face. There was something about him that she didn’t like and she couldn’t put her finger on it.

Celia went to the map hanging up. “This is the Grandberry Falls. As you can tell it isn’t very big, but there are outer lying areas that are too rural to put on a map. I will try to MapQuest everything and print it out for you.”

“That won’t be necessary. I have a Garmin.” Sam quickly closed his mouth as Celia’s flew open.

“Who’s Garmin?” Marty questioned.

“A fancy GPS system, Dad.” Celia rolled her eyes in disbelief her father would fall for Sam’s suave ways. His reaction was what she needed to confirm there was something fishy going on with him.

“I’d like to see this Garmin,” Marty said. “Maybe I need one of those.”

“Why? You know all the streets, and the whole purpose of getting another delivery person is because you don’t want to drive.”

Marty’s cheeks flushed and he stepped backwards. Obviously he was embarrassed by his daughter’s ill manners. “You’ll have to excuse Celia. She is talking out of school and wasn’t raised that way.”

Sam looked between the father and daughter. 

“When can you start?” Celia wanted to get him started only to be able to fire him by week’s end.

“Today,” Sam confidently stated.

It was a lot for Celia to take in before her second cup of coffee. Hand holding was not on her to-do list today. But getting started on the day’s orders was.

“It’s already been a long morning and I have a long day of orders to fill.” Looking at Sam, she gave in. “Why don’t you take the day to explore the town and be back tomorrow morning at ten o’clock? I’ll have some easy deliveries ready for you, and when you are done with those, you can ride along with my father and he can show you some of the country roads.”

“I thought the whole idea of hiring a delivery person was to let me stop.” Marty questioned Celia.

“Of course it is, Dad.” Celia was going to get her father back to work one way or the other. “We can’t just throw him into the fire. That wouldn’t be good training.”

“Former lawyer.” Marty pointed at Celia. She could see the pride in his face of her previous life.

Celia was exhausted by day’s end. She had four orders of “get well soon” arrangements going to the Veterans Memorial Hospital in the morning. The hospital was thirty minutes away. She’d give those to Sam to deliver. That way she could kill two birds with one stone, he’d be out of her hair for an hour and all of the orders are in one place. He couldn’t screw that up.

Celia was slowly becoming the confident person she always wanted to be.

“There’s something not right with that Sam.” Celia patted Charlie who was nestled up against the bend of her knee where he sleeps nightly. Charlie wagged his tail just at the mere mention of Sam. She couldn’t shake the notion she knew him from somewhere, but where?

Deep, dark eyes seemed to pierce her soul. She felt that stare or at least seen eyes likes his before.

Though no one can go back and make a brand new start, anyone can start from now and make a brand new

ending.

Carl Bard

4

That wasn’t bad, Sam thought getting back into his car. He was pleased with the fictitious last name he gave himself.

His messy hair, scruffy face, and the fact he has lost weight in the last six months, gave him the “don’t I know you from somewhere” look. Thank God, Celia hadn’t recognized him. She seemed like the movie going type and with Sam Barber cast in several blockbusters over the past ten years, there was no way she hadn’t heard his name before—even in the small community of Grandberry Falls, Kentucky.

The delivery job was perfect for his secret. There was no application which meant no background check, no identification, no figuring out he is a movie star. He could become whoever he wanted for as long as he wanted.

The only problem he figured was he only had the clothes on his back and what little he had in his wallet. Maybe a couple hundred dollars at the most.