“All women want money,” I said. “Just because you haven’t taken mine doesn’t mean they don’t want it.”
His brows jumped up as he got to his feet, his eyes narrowed and his head shaking. “If that’s really what you think, you’re so much more jaded than even I gave you credit for, man. When you really think about it, has this girl ever given you a reason to think she’s just after you for your money?”
Peter didn’t wait for me to answer. He just picked up his toolbox and tapped two fingers against his temple. “Think about it, bro. Once you get your head out of your ass, I hope you’ve got a fucking good apology ready because you’re going to need it.”
Watching him walk away, I took another sip of my coffee and turned everything he’d said over in my head. If I was being honest with myself, Luna never had given me the impression she wanted my money at all.
As hard of a time as I had believing that I may have found the one woman in this city who didn’t want a piece of my bank balance more than they wanted me, I had to admit that Luna seemed different. Like maybe, just maybe, she really didn’t give a fuck about money.
Chapter 19
Luna
A blonde woman with French tips and a salmon-pink dress pranced into my store a short while after I opened it. She had her eyes glued to the screen of her phone but snapped her fingers in the air as if rudely requesting a check from a server.
“I need twenty-four bunches of pearl-white roses for a wedding,” she barked in a clipped tone. “Can you help me?”
Narrowing my eyes as I tried to determine if I’d ever seen her before, I waited until she glanced up from her phone. “Twenty-four, you say? That’s a lot. When is the wedding?”
“A couple of weeks.” She planted both hands, one with her phone still in it, on her hips. “Can you help me or not?”
Something about her made me skeptical. I didn’t know what it was, but it left me feeling uncharacteristically unhelpful. “No, I don’t think so. Pearl white isn’t a common color. An order would have had to be placed weeks ago for the quantity you want.”
If I’d been so inclined, I probably could have helped her. Truth be told, an order of that size, of that species, and on such short notice would have meant making a pretty penny, but I just couldn’t find it in me to agree to do it for her.
Her bright blue eyes became slits as she gave me a sharp glare. “Are you saying you can’t do it?”
I lifted my shoulders on a shrug and pressed my lips together as I shook my head. “I don’t believe I can. Best of luck trying to find someone who can.”
Blood rushed to her face and she turned an unnatural shade of red. “I have money, you know? I can pay whatever it’s going to cost, but I won’t be paying it to you now.”
She stomped a high-heeled foot on the floor like an entitled toddler dressed up in her mother’s clothes and then marched out of the store, slamming the door behind her.
I let out a deep breath, frowned at her retreating back through the window, and went back to the work I was busy with on my computer. Open on the screen was a spreadsheet I’d compiled outlining my loan, repayments, interest, and projected targets for the next few months. In another column, I had the actual targets I’d need to make to be able to keep up with the payments.
Darn it. I shouldn’t have sent her business elsewhere.
There was far too much red on the screen for comfort. If I didn’t exceed my projected target every month—and I’d set them on the higher side of what I could expect to reach as it was—I was in a world of trouble.
Half considering hauling my behind out of the shop and down the street to call the customer back, I was stopped by the bell above the door tinkling again. When I looked up this time, a graying man in an ill-fitted suit stood just inside the shop.
He looked around like he was surprised at what he saw, then cleared his throat when his eyes landed on me. “Ms. Willet?”
“That’s me.” My throat tightened. This guy looked like a lawyer, a banker, or some other profession that could only spell bad news. “What can I do for you?”
“I’m with Capital Finance,” he said and my throat tightened even further. “You took out a loan with us some time ago.”
“Yes,” I practically squeaked as I tried to force my voice through my constricted airways. “Is there a problem?”
His thin lips lifted in a sympathetic smile. “No, not a problem as such. I’m here to make a courtesy call.”
“A courtesy call?” My chin lowered as my shoulders came forward. I had no doubt I looked like a scared little mouse, but I didn’t care. Banks didn’t just make courtesy calls for nothing and I had a feeling I was about to have the carpet yanked out from underneath me.
“Yes.” He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and dabbed at his forehead. “We’re at a point where we have to increase the rate of interest on your loan.”
“What?” I croaked. “Why?”
At least he had the decency to look genuinely sorry. “It’s tough times out there. We all have our parts to play. This is mine.”
“Is there anything I can do to stop this?” Black spots danced in my vision. “I’m barely keeping up as it is. I just can’t afford to pay more.”
He held up a perfectly smooth palm to stop me. “You shouldn’t tell me things like that. I know it’s going to be hard, okay? That’s why we’re going around making these personal courtesy calls. You’ll be able to plan for the hike, and hopefully, that will make things easier.”
“But I—”
“I’m sorry, miss. There really isn’t anything I can do.” He dabbed his brow again and shot me another tight smile. “Good luck, Ms. Willet. This truly is a beautiful store. I hope you do find a way to keep up with the repayments.”
Giving me a shallow bow, he ducked out of the store. I blinked after him, my eyes filling with tears.
Just when I thought my day couldn’t get any worse, Cyrus’s face popped up outside my window and he held up two cups. With a heavy sigh, I wiped at my eyes to make sure he wouldn’t see I was on the verge of crying and frowned when he stepped into the store.
“It’s tea,” he said. “Not coffee.”
“Okay.” Well, as much of a jerk as he could be, I guessed the silver lining was that he’d remembered what my first choice in hot beverages was. “Thanks.”
“What’s wrong?” Concern tightened the corners of his eyes as they swept over the expression on my face. He handed over the tea, taking a step closer to me to do it and then bringing his hand to my shoulder. “What happened?”
“Nothing you need to worry about. Just a bad day. What are you doing here?” My voice was flat, but I couldn’t help it.
Snippets of my conversation with the banker kept playing over and over again in my mind. I could practically see the red notices being slapped against my door right now.
Cyrus kept his vivid green eyes on mine, seemingly warring between pushing me to find out what was really going on and letting it go. Thankfully, he chose the latter.