Kidnap My Heart

Chapter One: Emma

So I guess this would be a good thing to state. Copyright and all, you know. The usual. 

Copyright © TheFlamingPopsicle 2013

All Rights Reserved

Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying recording or otherwise) of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

Except no one actually reads the copyright statement because it takes too much effort, so basically, just don't steal the shit I write and everything will be cool.

I watch a lot of TV and Spanish soap operas about drug lords so I could probably get the Russian mafia to hunt you down or something.

Don't say I didn't warn you.

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Kidnap My Heart 

Chapter 1: Emma 

You know how people in movies always seem to know when their lives are about to change? Yeah, that doesn’t happen in real life. You don’t wake up one morning and think, “Oh, my God, I’m going to get kidnapped today.”

The day I got kidnapped, I didn’t wake up with some otherworldly premonition about what was about to happen. I woke up barking orders at the air, still stuck in party-planning mode even when I was half-asleep. I had no idea my life was about to change. If I had, I would’ve run for the hills. I would’ve even been willing to abandon my party-planning. But I didn’t have a premonition, and I didn’t run. I just kept obsessively planning my best friend’s birthday party.

“No, no, no! I said gardenias. First Love gardenias. What is so impossible to understand about that?” I snapped into the phone, cutting the man off every time he tried to speak. He was obviously just your average worker. He was too flustered to be anyone of power. “No! I don’t want to hear talk of tulips! Or lilies! I said gardenias. We want First Love gardenias. No. No!”

People these days were so incompetent. Why would this man even think to suggest tulips or lilies when I was so clear about our desire for gardenias? It was ridiculous.

“Ma’am, you must understand—”

“There’s nothing to understand,” I exclaimed. “My client said she wanted First Love gardenias, and that’s what I’m getting her.  Not tulips. Not lilies. Gardenias.”

My client wasn’t just any client; I wouldn’t have been doing this for any old person. My client just so happened to be my best friend, Taylor Williamson, and this wasn’t just any party. It was her eighteenth birthday party, and it had to be absolutely perfect. Taylor had entrusted me with this job, assuming I would do it to the best of my ability, and that was exactly what I was going to do. No imbecile was going to ruin this for me or for her.

“But we don’t—”

“I don’t care! I’m not asking for some endangered flower from Africa. My request is so simple. Gardenias. We just want gardenias.”

Well, I was definitely never ordering flowers from this business ever again. This was absolutely ridiculous. Horrible service. Just horrible.

“But we don’t have—”

“You are living proof that evolution can go in reverse. Haven’t I made myself more than clear? We. Want. First. Love. Gardenias.”

“Ma’am, I’m sure there are plenty of other very beautiful flowers—”