Page 19 of Whispers of Wisteria (The Garden of Eternal Flowers #5)

They didn’t count as friends—not platonic ones.

It was easy to admit, at least sometimes, that whatever this weird relationship was going on between us, it wasn’t the same as good old-fashioned girl-on-girl friendship.

The boys didn’t want to get manicures with me, although Titus did enjoy doing my hair.

And there was also my lingering fear that I might have to admit that Bryce was right about one thing at least. It was becoming dangerous to wear my usual nightclothes around them. Damen, for example, stared in the most unnerving ways.

So soon, slumber parties between us might have to be taken off the table too.

This was just the worst.

“O-okay!” she replied, and the stunned look finally dropped from her open-mouthed expression. She pulled the clipboard to her chest, glancing at me only once before she fidgeted. “Let me just get my stuff.”

Maria sat down across from me, Jack and Coke in hand, as she glared around the room.

I wasn’t going to ask why there was a fully stocked bar here. It was probably normal for shifters. I was still unfamiliar with their biology, but my pirated werewolf comics had theorized that shifters metabolize alcohol and drugs differently than everyone else.

Maybe it wasn’t weird that they drank on the job—they’d probably never gotten drunk ever in their lives.

She narrowed her eyes at a table of three across the way and tossed back her drink.

“You—” I began, shuffling in my seat and lowering my gaze to my cappuccino. “You don’t need to do this.”

She shot me a strange look. “Do what?”

“This,” I explained, gesturing between us.

Maria glanced at another table of two, but responded, “This what? Sitting with you?”

“Y-yeah,” I began, shoulders hunching. “I know Titus made you—”

“You need to stop,” she said, touching her head. “It’s fine to be sensitive; I can roll with that. But you’re stressing yourself out for no reason.”

“But—” I started.

“Titus can’t tell me to do anything I don’t want to do,” she interrupted, gaze steady on mine. “I want to be with you. We’re friends.”

My heart skipped at her words. “Friends?”

Maria crossed her arms as she answered. “Well, duh.” She leaned closer. “Do you think I’d skip work for any other reason?”

“But…” That didn’t make sense. She’d been so annoyed. “You yelled at Titus and called him a butt.”

“Oh.” She leaned back and shrugged. “That’s because he could have just told me he was with you.” She stroked her chin. “But then again, I should have known. Only you or Taken are important enough to keep him out of the office.”

What was Taken?

I didn’t want to ask… yet. There was something else first.

“But…” I bit my lip. “You’re always yelling at him for skipping…”

“He hates meetings.” Maria waved her hand dismissively. “Hates them. He’ll find any reason to hide.”

I gripped my skirt. It made sense. I couldn’t see him being happy discussing budgets all day.

Now…

“What do you mean… Taken?”

Maria’s expression morphed into one of sheer joy, and her eyes lit up.

“Being abducted! He’s gotten kidnapped loads of times—on purpose,” she answered.

Then her grin faltered, and she took a low breath at my questioning stare.

“Bianca, his work is dangerous. He’ll accept the risks that no one else will, and his skills are in high demand, even from those with no connection to our world. That’s how he’s gotten so successful.”

“How can you be kidnapped on purpose?” My pulse raced.

“Undercover work,” Maria mused. “He never tells me when he does these things. That’s why I get so upset when he disappears.”

“Because he might die?” My voice was smaller than I wanted, but it was a difficult question to ask.

“No,” she clarified. “It’s a chance to cut loose and rip people to pieces.”

“And it’s dangerous both physically and legally?” I leaned forward. “That’s why you get worried?”

“I’m not worried.” Maria slammed her fist down, and I jumped back as my coffee splashed over the edge of my mug. “I’m mad! How dare he do all the fun stuff without me? It’s been ages since I’ve killed some degenerates.”

Oh.

That made sense. Maria was a lioness, and very energetic. And I, too, understood the feeling of just wanting to punch something. It could be very gratifying.

She needed an outlet.

“If it helps…” I began, pressing my palms in my lap. “Maybe we could do something together?”

After all, video games were beginning to grow rather dull. I’d hoped that Brayden, at least, might offer up a challenge, but I’d beaten him as easily as Bryce.

I might be able to focus on strategy. I’d rather not get sweaty. Maria, on the other hand, might enjoy physical activity. It was the lioness who hunted and killed, while the male lion remained a useless figurehead.

She could be a fighter, and I, her manager. That might be fun.

We could make so much money. Probably.

She lowered her head and leaned across the table.

“What do you mean?” She was whispering, and my focus stayed on her lips. “What are you thinking? I’m not playing Taken with you.”

“No.” I waved my hand. I didn’t want to get kidnapped. “Bryce is still holding my money hostage. It’s stopping me from making investments and doing things.”

“How is he holding your money hostage?” Maria frowned. “That doesn’t sound like him. He’s a total pushover when it comes to you. It’s almost disgusting, the way he gushes. Just ask him for his credit card.”

“I don’t want to keep using his money.” My pulse began to race. How could I not have come to Maria about this sooner? “He says Mu’s money is tied up, and I, Bianca, am poor.”

“Well, it is tied up.” Maria’s frown deepened, and her voice turned cautious. “Have you just… asked Titus for money. He’s loaded. He wants to buy you stuff.”

“I will not!” I pressed my hand to my chest.

I’d been a freeloader long enough—and every dollar spent on me without repayment was a black mark against my soul. There were so many things on my private wish list, and Damen refused to let me do a single chore.

I had no way to earn everything I wanted. I would be the one to give myself the newest Vogue collection and the Hello Kitty autumn releases.

Everything I needed was slipping through my desperate fingers.

“If you’re so poor, how did you afford those Jimmy Choo’s?” she wondered out loud. “They look good, by the way. Where were they when we first met?”

“It doesn’t matter!” I slapped my hand on the table. Never would I admit that these two hands once scrubbed Finn’s ink-stained blazers. “Do you want to beat up things or not?”

“What are we beating up?” The doubt in her eyes cleared, replaced by an almost terrifying gleam. “Lead the way, and I’m there.”