Free Concealed Carry by Hildie McQueen Page B

have hurt too bad Mr. Ruiz, Sir." He gifted the VP with a condescending smile.
    The VP waved off further conversation. "Let's get on with this, I have a flight to catch early in the morning and want to relax this evening. As a matter of fact Wells, how about you and Bernie join me for drinks. We can discuss the new software projects." He gave a flushed Bernie a pointed look.
    Bernie choked on his saliva.
     
    Her mind was spinning from a disastrous day at the office; she trudged into her bedroom to change. Her mother expected her for dinner and she wondered if she had the strength for it. Lisa entered the quiet space and let out a sigh. Hopefully Bernie would escape the after work drinks unscathed and make it to her mother's. He rarely missed Wednesday night dinner.
    The doorbell rang and she looked at her ceiling. Did she owe anyone money? No. Did she expect a solicitor? No. It was too late for someone to attempt to save her soul. They tended to come in the afternoon on Saturdays. "Come In!" she shouted, it was probably Bernie or her neighbor Sheila, who always borrowed soap. Laundry, Dish, or multi-purpose, Sheila never bought any.
    Lisa opened the cabinet under her sink. "I ran out of Mr. Clean."
    "Delivery." She jumped at the deep voice. A man stood in the hallway with a floral arrangement. "Miss Pasqualone?"
    "Yes?"
    "These are for you." He looked at her with expectation. "I need you to sign for them."
    "Right." She didn't move . She searched the countertops for a weapon. Just the night before on her favorite murder show, a fake flower deliveryman killed women and collected for his hand collection. "Umm, put the flowers down over there," She pointed to the dining table. "I'll wait for you outside." She dashed to the doorway and stood outside her apartment.
    The man walked outside and when she moved away from the wall, he yelped. "Ma'am, would you please sign this?" He held the clipboard as far as he could from himself. "I'll be on my way."
    Lisa snatched the board and scribbled her signature never moving her eyes from him. He snatched the item back and jogged to his truck. The truck's logo looked incredibly real, as a matter of fact so did the guys uniform. The lengths murderers went to was just astonishing.
    After peering into her apartment and not seeing anything awry, she went back in. The flowers were beautiful, with a note attached. She pulled it and opened the tiny envelope to find a typed note.
    Sorry About Your Shoe
    Angel
    "Awwww," Lisa said out loud and smiled at the spring bouquet. "Here I thought it was murder."
    Rushing , she threw on shoes and brushed her hair then dashed out the door to the parking lot. She drove for half an hour and parked. She hurried to the front door of the house, hoping not to lose her nerve.
     
    After her second knock a yawning Max opened the door. He wore sweat pants that hung low on his hips, the sleeveless torn t-shirt barely covered his ripped chest and he was barefoot. "Hey." He blinked at her. "What's up?"
    "I came to see if you were going to Mom's for dinner?" Lisa shuffled attempting not to stare at his bared body. "Mom invited you and will be disappointed if you don't come."
    His eyes remained flat, his voice even. "Really?"
    "Look, I'm sorry about this morning. Bernie was putting up a front for some guy...er person that's been harassing him."
    "He grabbed your ass." Max frowned.
    "He's overly dramatic that way," Lisa explained with a weak smile. "It's been a long day. I lost a shoe, I thought a flower delivery guy was there to murder me and I accidentally kicked a VP under the conference table. I shouldn't have come. I guess you are the only person I want to see after a day like this." She slumped forward and adjusted her purse strap. "I better go. Sorry to bother you."
    "Why did you think the flower delivery guy was going to kill you? Who sent you flowers?"
    Of course he'd ask that? Men always wanted to know if they were one-upped and by who. "Angel, my coworker for losing