“I know,” I said. “But something about her makes me feel different.”
Antonio got into the passenger seat. He was holding a small piece of paper.
“What did she say?” I asked.
He handed me the note with a smile. In neat writing, it said. [Fine. One text. Make it count.]
I couldn’t help but smile.
“Don’t get too excited,” Antonio said. “She also said if you send anything inappropriate, she’ll block your number forever.”
“Got it,” I said. I put the note in my pocket and started the engine.
As I drove back to the office, I felt good about this.
Step one: get her to respond. Complete.
Now for the hard part. Not messing it up.
Ava’s POV
I sat in the break room at Grace’s Closet. I was staring at the text Joseph had given me. His attorney’s contact information was on the screen. I should be grateful. He helped with my legal troubles. I even wrote a thank you text twice, but I deleted both.
My mother’s warning played in my head. “Stay away from powerful Alphas, Ava. They view women as conquests, not equals.”
I sighed and tucked my phone into my purse. Maybe Mom was right. After what happened with Isaac, I wasn’t eager to invite another wolf into my life. Especially not an Alpha with a playboy reputation.
Then came the notes. Actual handwritten notes delivered by a teenager! Was this high school? I couldn’t believe a grown man would do this. An Alpha and CEO passing notes like a nervous freshman. It was ridiculous and infuriating. But somehow it was also intriguing.
When I returned to work after lunch, I pushed through the glass doors of Grace’s Closet. I found what I called “the snake pit” at the front counter.
Cybele was sitting on a stool. She was dabbing at her mascara streaked cheeks. Cynthia and Laura stood around her like vultures pretending to be concerned friends.
“Are you happy now?” Cynthia walked toward me. Her voice was full of accusation. “Isaac broke up with Cybele because of you. He said you two are getting back together because he still has feelings for you. Cybele is absolutely devastated.”
I rolled my eyes. “Fascinating,” I said.
I stepped around her to reach the register. “When he was my boyfriend and I caught this one screwing him, nobody seemed concerned about my feelings.” I nodded toward Cybele.
I gave them a sarcastic smile. “But relax, sluts. I have no intention of getting back with that cheating bastard. He’s all yours. Damaged goods and impotent dick.”
Cybele’s sobs grew louder. “You’re such a bitch, Ava!”
“And you’re a backstabbing slut,” I said calmly. “Glad we’ve established our roles.”
I walked past them and headed for the stockroom.
I added “find new job” to my priority list. Working with this trio of vipers was becoming unbearable.
I put my purse in my locker. My phone buzzed with a text.
[Would you do me the honor of joining me for dinner this week? ]Joseph
I stared at the screen. My thumbs hovered over the keyboard. Part of me wanted to say yes. He was undeniably attractive, and there was something magnetic about him. But another part knew better. The sensible part my mother had taught me.
I typed my response. [My mother always told me not to have dinner with bad boys because they’ll break your heart. I happen to agree. So no, but thanks for your help with the attorney contact.]
I pressed send and let out a breath. There. Firm but polite refusal.
I expected that to be the end of it. Most men wouldn’t take kindly to decline. Especially Alphas with egos the size of Texas. But Joseph Garcia wasn’t most men.
The next day, his nephew Antonio appeared at the store. He was grinning as he handed me a folded note.
“My uncle asked me to deliver this,” he said. He looked both amused and embarrassed.
I opened the paper. [If being bad is what it takes to have your attention, then I’ll be your worst nightmare.]
I smiled despite myself. I wrote back, [Nightmares fade by morning. Try harder.]
This strange communication continued for an entire week. Every day around lunch, Antonio would arrive with notes filled with cheesy pickup lines and flirty comments. And every day, I’d respond with increasingly sarcastic comebacks.
The strangest part? Joseph himself never showed his face. Just these notes, delivered by his increasingly chatty teenage nephew.
By the third day, Antonio and I had become unexpected friends.
“Can I ask you something?” he said while waiting for me to respond to another of Joseph’s notes. “There’s this girl at school.”
I looked up from writing my response. “You need dating advice?”
He nodded. He looked embarrassed. “Uncle J is great with women, but his advice is… well…”
“Terrible?” I said.
“Exactly!” Antonio laughed. “He told me to act disinterested and mysterious.”
I laughed. “Is that why he’s sending notes instead of showing up himself? Playing mystery man?”
“Something like that,” Antonio said. “So what should I do about Mia?”
Our arrangement changed. I’d give Antonio dating advice, and he would keep me updated on his uncle’s moves. It became our little conspiracy against the player himself.
“She loved the bracelet,” Antonio told me a few days later. He was grinning from ear to ear. “Said it was the most thoughtful gift she’d ever received.”
“See? Listening to what she actually likes beats generic flowers any day,” I said. I felt oddly proud of my student.
“Uncle J would have told me to buy her lingerie,” Antonio rolled his eyes.
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