Everywhere I looked, on every surface of my office, were bouquets of gorgeous flowers. There were a couple dozen roses in various shades, yeah, but there were also arrangements of sunflowers, gerbera daisies, hydrangeas, lilacs, and peonies. It was insane. I dropped my bag on my desk, turning to Gwen.
“Did somebody die?”
“You tell me. They’re for you.”
“Me?” Holy shit!
She sneered in disgust, rolling her eyes, “Yes. You. Read the card.”
I turned back to my desk and saw the small gold envelope propped up against my keyboard. Who would do all this? I picked up the card. My name was written neatly on the front. I lifted the flap and pulled out the white card.
You never gave me your number.
Peter gave me his number instead. I’m not one to fall for grand gestures, but who could ignore an entire room full of flowers? I pulled out my phone and shot him a quick text.
Alex: Subtle.
Ping, ping. He responded right away.
Peter: I don’t do subtle.
That much was obvious.
Peter: Have dinner with me?
Why not go out with him? He was charming, good-looking, and maybe just the distraction I needed to get past the thing with Drew. I mean, it wasn’t like it would lead to anything serious. What could it hurt?
When we went out before, it was just to dinner. Then we met once for coffee, but that was it. He just disappeared. I was going through a lot back then, so I figured he wasn’t interested anymore and let it go. Who knows? We’re older and a bit wiser. Maybe this time we could have some fun and see where things end up.
I was typing out a response when my phone vibrated in my hand. He was calling me? I swiped a finger across the screen to answer.
“Hello.”
“I figured I wouldn’t give you a chance to say no.”
“I could still say no over the phone.”
“True, but you have less time to make up an excuse.”
“Touché.” I giggled.
“So will you, Alex McCabe, grant me the honor of taking you to dinner?”
“When?”
“Wednesday work?”
“No. Actually, I have trivia with Drew and the guys at The Den. It’s our thing. We’re there every week.”
“Okay then. Thursday?”
“Thursday’s good.”
“Great. I will pick you up at seven?”
“I’ll text you the address.”
“‘Til then, Alex.” With that, he hung up. Realizing I never said thank you, I sent a quick text.
Alex: Thank you for the flowers.
Peter: Thank you for saying yes.
On the verge of gushing, I collected myself and set about organizing my desk for the day. Ping, ping. I smiled, ready to playfully scold Peter for bothering me while I was working. I looked at my phone and saw it wasn’t Peter.
Drew: Lunch? I’ll come by your office.
It wasn’t so much a request as a statement. I couldn’t avoid him forever. If I was going to get past this to save our friendship, pushing him away in the process was a bit counterproductive.
Alex: K, one-ish?
Drew: See you then.
I heard someone clear their throat and looked up to see Madeline in the doorway. Gwen pointed a finger at me without looking up from her computer. Way to sell me out. Madeline approached my desk, trying and failing to hide her smile.
“Well, someone seems to have an admirer.”
“I’m sorry, Madeline. I will clear them out.”
“No need, dear. Just disperse them more around the office, if you don’t mind. It’s a bit overwhelming.” She scrunched up her nose, then trailed a finger over a vase of long stem red roses. “Are they from a certain charming gentleman I met the other night?”
“Drew? No, we’re just friends.”
Madeline raised her eyebrows, giving me a pointed look. “Well, it is a lovely gesture all the same.” She gestured to the roses in front of her. “May I?”
“Of course.” I handed her the large vase.
“Lovely.” She admired them and took the bouquet into her office.
I looked over at Gwen, who was radiating hatred in my direction. Great. Today was going to be fun!
We had a minor disaster at one of the construction sites that had the phones ringing off the hook. I hadn’t had a chance to deal with the greenhouse that was my office yet.
I looked up when I heard a knock on the door frame. Drew was standing in the doorway, holding a single rusty pink rose, my favorite. My heart melted. That was so sweet. He looked around to the sea of flowers crowding my office with wide eyes. Shit!
“Uh, I brought you this, but it looks like you are covered.” He looked at me with the million dollar question in his eyes.
“They’re from Peter!” Gwen announced with mock enthusiasm.
I shot her a glare. She smiled, knowing exactly what she did.
Drew furrowed his brow. “Russell sent you these?”
“They’re going out Thursday night,” she added.
To his credit, Drew shot her a glare. I, however, was plotting her slow and painful death. Maybe I could hang her upside down and smother her with her own breasts.
Drew turned back to me and raised his eyebrows. I nodded. He looked at me with a strange expression—hurt, or maybe sadness—then quickly blinked it away.
“You ready for lunch?” His smile seemed forced. I nodded and grabbed my bag. He thrust the rose at me as he turned to head out. I was a bit stunned. He was pissed. That much was obvious, but was he jealous?
I brought the rose to my face and inhaled the sweet scent with a smile, then followed him out the door. I didn’t care that my office was filled with every flower within five miles. This was the one I wanted.
***
We ended up at the Mexican place just up the street. Drew didn’t say a word to me the entire walk there. By the time we placed our orders with the waiter, I was fuming. What the hell was his problem? I could date whoever I wanted. I’m a big girl. He had no right to make me feel bad for going out with Peter.
He was tearing his straw wrapper into little pieces, refusing to make eye contact with me. That’s it!
“What the hell is wrong with you?” I demanded, a little louder than I intended.
He snapped his head up. “What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing is wrong with me,” I said, my voice wavering.
“Bullshit, Red!” He threw the rest of the straw wrapper down on the table and sat back in his chair. “You show up at the park looking like you haven’t slept. You avoided me all day yesterday, claiming some crap with work. I come to take you to lunch so we can talk and find out that you are dating Peter fucking Russell.”
I didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t wrong. I looked at my hands, fighting the tears that were trying to force their way out. I couldn’t tell him the truth, even though his eyes were begging me to come clean.