Planning Bliss (Bliss Series Book 1)

The Bouquet

The Bouquet

Deep breath in... then out... And a couple more times of that... Maybe one more for good luck.

My hand was on the handle of the door, hoping I was ready to face what awaited on the other side. I could simply turn back and hide in my office. There was time yet.

I heard a crash and a shriek beyond the door. Damn. I wondered what broke this time.

I kept the cake box I picked up earlier closer to me with my other hand, and went into my apartment, not looking forward to the ensuing chaos. The mistake was-- and always would be --that I gave my Mother a copy of my apartment key. Whenever they came to the city , they would head straight to my place and make themselves feel at home.

With one foot inside the slightly ajar door, my subconscious told me that they hadn't seen me yet. I had time to leave my place. The city. The state. Head to Canada!

"Oh, finally you're here!" Too late. "Maggie, you're sister's home." My Mom yelled into the kitchen. Her petite body was halfway through it and halfway into the living room. She had a glass of wine in hand. I suspected it was the bottle a grateful client had given me, a vintage Bordeaux. I didn't know much about wine, but Chase told me that that particular one was worth a good amount of money.

I narrowed my eyes to the glass, while slipping inside my place. "Yeah, I had a meeting that ran a little too long." Not completely true. The meeting had been short, but I had kept Chase talking longer after it, knowing full well what was waiting for me here.

"Is that my cake?" Mom tucked the wineglass between her boob and her upper arm, and stretched out her hands for the Divine Delights cake box.

Eddi baked my Mom's cake, a Dulce de Leche cheesecake, every year since I had started working for him. I took the wineglass from her, avoiding any break or spillage, and handed her the box. "Eddi sends his regards." I dumped my gym bag and purse on the floor.

"What a sweet man." She had met him once, and since then, he'd been only known as the 'sweet man'.

I followed her into the kitchen where my sixteen-year old half-sister, Maggie, was lip-locked with a boy named June (His twin sister was called May). "Hey, Mags. You've got something on your face."

Maggie started chuckling while June was still sucking face with her. Oh, young love! When she was finally free, she jumped off June's lap and gave me the tightest hug. "Hey, sis! Ooooh, your hair smells like caramel."

Maggie was a lot taller than me at 5'8". She got her looks from her father, George, blond curly locks, blue eyes with specks of gold in them, and lips that could compete with Angelina Jolie's.

Mags was a sweet, girl. "Not the sharpest tool in the shed," as Mom would tell her, but she worked hard at school, and one day hoped to become a fashion designer. The only problem was that Mags inherited our mother's lack of skills and talent in arts and crafts or any sort of creativity. I got mine from my Dad.

"Same shampoo, Mags," I told her as we let go of each other. "Hey, June. I didn't know you were coming." I shot Maggie and a inquisitive look.

She grinned, walked back to her boyfriend, and draped an arm over his wide shoulders. "You don't mind, do you? He's never been here before." Cue puppy-dog face.

I rolled my eyes. "He can't sleep in the same bed with you." If I wasn't getting any, no one else in this house should! Plus they were both sixteen, and last I heard, Maggie was still a virgin.

"Of course, they're not sleeping in the same bed. June can sleep on the couch," my mother quipped, tilting the vintage bottle and pouring the expensive wine into her glass. Sigh. My mother wasn't usually a drinker except for special occasions: birthdays, anniversaries, holidays, promotions, graduations, etc.