Roots

Frangipani

Frangipani

Austin's muscles flex as he signs the bottom of the page. He slides the paperwork into the folder and places it in the filing cabinet. He tugs his gaze to meet mine and it causes my stomach to churn.

"Someone will collect the bags. You won't be required to count them, so you should be able to manage that." He smirks. "If not, I can wait until they get here."

"No, I'll be fine." I bite the inside of my cheek to prevent my eyes from rolling.

"Alright." He chuckles.

Austin grabs his bag and turns to me. His eyes trail down my body and it sends a shiver tingling down my spine. I cross my arms and stand tall as he steps around and walks to the ladder.

I wait until the door thuds to walk into the bedroom. The sheets are crinkled and the pillow is falling out of the case. I drop my bag onto the ground and groan.

What did I do to make him hate me? The harvest shift doesn't pay more and he's not been replaced.

I take my backpack to the bench and retrieve the McDonald's bag. At least I can enjoy a semi-good meal before playing cleaner. I slide onto the stool and unpack the contents of the bag.

My stomach rumbles as I unwrap the burger. I swing around and stare at the plants. My head tilts to the side and I peer closer. I slide off the seat and take a bite from the burger as I walk over.

I tug on the leaves and rub it between my fingers. It looks how weed should but then again, I'm not some kind of weed connoisseur.

"You're pretty damn special." I chuckle.

I return to the stool and consume the remainder of the meal. It's still warm—that middle zone where it's good enough. I finish eating and throw the rubbish into the bag and clean my hands with a wipe.

I collect my bag and walk back to the bedroom. I pull the blanket and pillows from their casing and shove the sheets into the laundry basket. I grab a new set of midnight blue sheets and dress the bed.

Once it's done, I remove my shoes and dive under the blankets. Changing the sheets is annoying but I love the crisp feeling of new sheets. As I snuggle into the pillow, I catch a hint of frangipani.

It only takes a couple of minutes until I'm drifting into a peaceful sleep.

* * * * *

"Mm, no, go away," I groan.

Rolling onto my side, I pull the blankets over my head and snuggle into the warmth. Something pokes the blanket and I toss it away.

As I blink away the sleepy daze, black jeans come to view. I jerk upwards and groan as I hit my head on the shelf. My heart races as I look up and nibble on my lower lip.

"How long have you been standing there for?" I raise an eyebrow.

"A couple of minutes."

"What do you want?"

"Your alarm was ringing." Pebbles points to my phone on the desk.

"Yikes, I can't believe I slept through that."

He moves to the end of the bed and crosses his arms.

"Is there something wrong?" I slide under the covers.

"The cycle has completed which is great news for you."

"The fact my poor heart didn't give out is a good thing for you." I place my hand on my heart and glare.

As soon as those words leave my mouth, regret hits me like a damn truck barrelling down a steep hill. What the heck was I thinking?

His face hardens just as my heart quickens—now I really might have a heart attack.

"I mean, you shouldn't sneak around like that." I bite my lower lip to stop myself from trembling.

Pebbles shakes his head.

My fanatic heart slows down as my ego soars through the crystal blue sky. That moment is short-lived because I squirm under his intense gaze. If that doesn't murder me, the painful silence will.

He walks away and I leap to the end of the bed.

"Boss."

What the heck am I doing?

He gazes over his shoulder.

"Uh, I'm, no, uh, did you end up finding the missing bag?"

I don't know Pebbles well enough to gain a sense of what he'd do. I'm sure every criminal mastermind has a certain trademark technique they use to handle issues like theft.

Maybe it's cutting hands off of thieves or pressing their faces against a sander. The last point seems extreme for theft but who knows with Pebbles.

Perhaps he has a fetish for cutting people and being a drug lord is what he does to kick that addiction. I shake those thoughts from my mind—that's a bit off-topic.

"It's still under investigation. You should be careful next time."

"Next time?" I frown. "You mean I'm getting another shot?"

"Unless you think your heart can't handle it?" He chuckles.

I shoot him a glare.

"I promise I can handle it." My voice sounds confident but my hands still shake. "Even if Austin thinks I'm incompetent."

Anger flairs in his blue eyes as his body stiffens.

"It only matters what I think."

I nod—that's a fair and comforting way to look at things. If one of those punks thinks they can steal on my watch, maybe I'll exert some violence.

And by violence, I mean I'll call for Pebbles, because there's no way I can take on three grown men without being beaten within an inch of my life.

"There will be a harvest shift in a couple of weeks."

"Really, that far away?" I sigh. "Is that because I need to pass another test or do you not trust me?"

Pebbles glances over his shoulder, then looks back to me.

"I trust you but the plants won't be ready until then."

"Oh." My cheeks burn.

As soon as the door slams shut, I fall against the bed and smile at the roof.

How could he trust me after those scummy men stole a bag under my watch, literally while I was watching them?

Whatever the reason, I feel happier.

My heart oddly beats but I don't mind it. Pebbles trusts me and that means more than Austin's approval. 

* * * * *