|
Stuck by a Drummer- The Adventure Continues
The deliveryman standing at the desk was staggering under the weight of the flower arrangement. He kept standing on his tiptoes, trying to see over the mass of roses, lilies, and other exotic lovelies, until he realized that doing so raised the flowers as well.
Steve stood quickly and approached him. "I'll accept that for her."
"And you are....?"
"Her pimp. Now who ordered this arrangement?"
Steve, I knew, was edgy and potentialy explosive after everything we'd been through today, and I feared another scene, with the flowers possibly being used to decorate someone's grave. I stood up and said, "It's all right, I'm KC Payden."
Steve looked concerned but said nothing as I navigated the sofas and coffee tables and approached the front desk. After shooting a nasty glance at Steve, who stiffened in response, the deliveryman laid the arrangement on the counter and took a receipt pad out of his pocket.
"Sign here," he said, marking a line with an x and handing me the pad. "If you want details on where this came from, you'll have to call the shop directly. I just do the deliveries." His last comment was accompanied by a hostile glance at Steve.
I signed, and handed him a tip. He wished me a good day and walked out a little too briskly, likely hoping that the next dropoff would result in a warmer welcome.
Pete strolled over, eyeing the arrangement with snooty interest. "Nice, but I've gotten better."
"Oh, shut up, bitch." While Pete pouted, Steve dug through the fragrant blooms looking for a card. He withdrew a white envelope. While we all watched in silence, he opened it and read the enclosed card aloud.
"Dear KC- hope you love mysteries." He frowned. "No name or anything. We'll have to call the shop and find out where they were sent from."
While we were talking, we were vaguely aware of a small commotion going on in the background, but paid no attention....until a high pitched, insinuating voice called out, "Hey, Burns....don't tell me someone loves you THAT much. Except the plastic surgeons, maybe."
We turned around. Sauntering across the plush carpets toward us, resplendent in a black silk suit and one of his trademark oversized hats, was George O'Dowd... Boy George.
|