3 Group Chat

Arden looked over her shoulder and searched the crowd for the sexiest man she'd ever met. There. Cryo Elsin's tall, athletic build made him easy to spot; he stood head-and-shoulders over everyone else.

And what a sweetheart. Kind, intelligent, humble. Never mind the adorable dimples in his cheeks, that way-too-sexy five o'clock shadow, or that deep, rumbly voice. A shiver zipped down her spine. She could've listened to that man talk all night.

Twirling the long-stemmed chocolate tulip between her thumb and pointer finger, Arden groaned. If only she had the tiniest amount of social sophistication. Instead, she'd teased him like she'd known him all her life and flirted with him like the silly country bumpkin she was.

She watched Cryo for a few more moments, then she returned to her office and placed the tulip in the pencil holder on her desk. No one had ever given her a flower before, let alone one made of chocolate. She was acting like a schoolgirl with her first crush.

Logging onto her computer, she got back to work on a balance sheet. No time for daydreams about chocolates and cyborgs.

Two hours later, her phone pinged. A message popped up in her group chat with her twin sisters Katla and Una.

Katla: Did you crash the party?

Arden: It's like something out of a movie.

Katla: What did you wear?

She looked down at her old jeans with holes in the knees, her favorite cropped t-shirt, and faded blue hoodie. No wonder Cryo's mother had sneered at her. She should've thrown on a dress, but Arden had only planned to grab a free drink, stuff her pockets with chocolate, and then hide in her office the rest of the night.

Arden: You don't want to know.

Katla: Even if you looked like you belonged in a pigsty at least you tried to socialize.

True enough. The party had been Arden's first chance to hang out with anyone besides her sisters and the farmhands in a year. When she'd heard the big chocolate company, Criollos, was searching for a place to host their annual party, she'd jumped at the chance to rent them the warehouse, even though they were down to just the one.

A year ago, the original warehouse seated on the far side of the property had burned down to its skeletal remains. Since then, they'd had to use this smaller warehouse for everything from shucking cocoa pods and drying the cocoa beans to packaging and shipping out the product. If their harvest hadn't fallen to a quarter of their normal yield, they never would've managed with just the one warehouse, let alone be able to rent it out the night. But their harvest had been downright pathetic the last few years.

A well-tended cocoa bean tree flourished for about thirty years. Grandma Bish stopped replacing their dying trees four years ago. She'd said she wanted to branch out into livestock. First, she bought a flock of chickens, next a fluffle of rabbits. After that, she rationalized adding goats, pigs, ducks, and even alpacas and sheep to the menagerie. In a few short years, Bish Cocoa Farm had transformed into an insolvent petting zoo—a total money pit.

Looking for any possible revenue stream, Arden had researched starting a petting farm for school field trips and weekend family outings. Arden's cost analysis quickly killed that idea. The animals had to go. And that was going to break her sisters' hearts, and they were already heartbroken over their grandmother.

Arden: How's it going there?

Katla: Grandma's not supposed to last the night. I'm with her now.

Arden: Give her my love.

Two months ago, grandma's doctor told her she had terminal cancer and only weeks to live. Arden had wanted to go with her sisters and grandmother to the oncology hospital in Tactic City, but someone had to stay behind. Arden was that someone. Every freaking time.

She didn't feel sorry for herself. Really, she didn't. At least with her sisters away, she had time to make sense of their finances. Not that there was any sense to make…the farm hadn't turned a profit in years. In fact, they were hemorrhaging money. Grandma's illness had exposed all her bad decisions. Now it was way too late. If Arden had only known sooner…but looking back now, there had been signs. Big, bright flashing ones. And she'd missed them all.

Her phone pinged with another text.

Katla: Una broke her face.

Arden: And by that you mean?

Katla: Faceplanted. Two black eyes and a broken nose.

Arden: She's never met a bone she couldn't break. I told you to bubble wrap her.

Katla: Bubble wrap, my butt. She'd get hurt in a padded cell.

Arden: Not a bad idea.

Katla: You want to bubble wrap my butt?

Arden: Lock Una in a padded cell.

Una chimed in: If anyone belongs in a locked cell it's Katla.

Katla: Don't play. You know you're a disaster.

Una: A beautiful disaster.

Katla: If bruised and broken is the beauty standard now, I'll stay ugly.

Arden: Stop. Fighting.

Una: Yes, mom.

Katla: Yes, mom.

Arden set her phone on her desk.

The twins weren't wrong. Arden acted like a big, overprotective momma bear. But they'd never known their father, and she'd been seven and the twins just three when their mother had died. She felt responsible for them. When their grandmother died, they'd have no family left except Sepi, but their brother was gone—she hoped for good.

The farm failing was Sepi's fault. Their grandma had been funneling their income to pay off Sepi's gambling debts. Grandma had covered for him for as long as she could. Last month their second warehouse caught fire and burned down. They not only lost a third of their crop but most of their processing equipment. A fatal blow, but Arden refused to admit defeat. She still hoped to find a way to save the farm.

This was their livelihood and their home. Without it how would they survive? In another month or two – even if she really stretched things out – they'd be out of options. But she couldn't think like that. She had to find something. There had to be a way to fix things.

Arden hadn't told her sisters the bad news yet. Figured it could wait until after grandma's funeral. One crisis at a time.

Arden texted: You're not funny.

Una: Katla's funny-looking.

Katla: At least I'm not funny-smelling.

Arden: Why are we all such goofballs? We should've been clowns.

Katla: Not too late to join the circus.

Una: Can I be the cute clown?

Katla: No, but you can be the annoying one.

Una: We can't both be the annoying one.

Arden: What kind of clown should I be?

Una: The kind that makes balloon animals.

Katla: You should have freckles. Lots and lots of freckles.

Arden: Clown names?

Una: I want my name to be something romantic like Clown-erella or Little Mer-clown.

Arden laughed at her sisters' antics. No matter how bad things got—and right now they were really, really bad—they could always make her laugh.

Arden: So, I…

Katla: What?

Una: What?

Arden: I met the most beautiful man at the party.

Una: Tell us.

Katla: Now.

Arden: He's the CEO of Criollos Chocolates, the company that rented out our warehouse.

Una: Isn't he a cyborg?

Arden: Yeah.

Katla: You're in love with a cyborg?

Una: Next, she'll tell us she's fallen in love with the weed bot.

Arden: Screw you guys. Cryo is a total sweetheart. Kind of quiet, but he was really nice to me. He even gave me chocolate.

Una: Oh no. How did he know the way to your heart was through chocolate?

Arden: I might have hinted.

Katla: You're crazy.

Arden: Why?

Una: A cyborg? Really?

Katla: Why do you keep saying that? Who cares if he's a cyborg? He was in an accident and had a few parts replaced. So what?

Katla: A lot of parts. Like 99.999999999 percent of his parts.

Una: I wonder if his ding-dong is cybernetic too.

Katla: I just peed myself.

Arden: WTF? If I had an accident and became a cyborg, would you talk shit about me, too?

Katla: We already talk shit about you.

Una: Yeah, you don't need to replace any parts to be laughable.

Arden: Thanks so much.

Una: I just had a thought.

Katla: This is the first in, what, like a month?

Una: Shut up. Here's what I think, Cryo is a cyborg and Arden is like a cyborg. They could be a perfect match.

Arden: Wait. How am I like a cyborg?

Una: When do you sleep? Eat? Have fun?

Katla: Gotta agree. You're a machine. Work. Work. Work.

Not knowing how to respond or what excuse to make for her crazy work ethic this past year, she set down her phone. Her sisters weren't wrong. Lately, she worked more than she slept. She hadn't had a break in months unless you counted her daily nervous breakdowns. Then she'd had lots and lots of breaks—with reality.

Gods, she was exhausted from the tragedy that made up her life and the daily grind that got her nowhere. Her sisters might think she was a cyborg, but she felt all too human. With each new disaster, Arden thought, this is my rock bottom. Tomorrow will be a better day. But tonight, as she rested her head on her desk and looked up at Cryo's flower, dread slipped past her defenses and a shiver of apprehension tormented her.

She abruptly remembered that tulips had been her mother's favorite flower, and the last time Arden had seen a tulip was at the funeral seventeen years ago. She closed her eyes, reliving the torture. Everything had changed for the worse that day. She prayed Cryo's tulip did not portend more devastation.