Page 66 of Romance with Mr. Bossy Pants

On my way down to the lobby, I knock on Chloe’s door one last time. As expected, she doesn’t open. After standing there in silence for one minute, I hear someone shuffling around, so I take a chance and speak with my forehead pressed up against the door. “I’m going to go get something to eat. I know I’m a jerk, but we should talk. I’ll be at Cafe la Viv.”

I take a couple of steps away from Chloe’s door and say, “I hope you join me, Chloe.”

Dragging my feet, I head down to Cafe la Viv. Thankfully, the joint is empty, which is perfect. I slide into a booth, recalling saving Chloe from that loser that catfished her. I should’ve realized how much I cared about her that day, not parade my bossiness and ego around.

I order a club sandwich and a soda. The food is ready in no time, but I just push it around the plate instead of eating it.

I keep glancing at the door, hoping it’ll swing open, and Chloe will come in. But the door stays as still as a statue, and the clock just keeps ticking.

Two hours slip by like sand through my fingers. I’ve cleared my plate, and it’s as clear as day that Chloe isn’t coming. My heart sinks to my shoes, and I toss some cash on the table. The server gives me a nod.

Stepping outside, I’m about to head back to the office when something across the street catches my eye. It’s a flower shop. Has it always been there? I don’t know exactly why, but I make a beeline for it.

Once I step inside, a wave of floral scents hits me. The place is a riot of colors, as each bloom fights for the spotlight.

The cheerful attendant beams at me once her eyes land on me. She zeroes in on me once I get close enough.

“I’ve got just the thing,” the attendant says before I even tell her anything.

She moves through the shop and selects stems with purpose. She returns with a bouquet that even I can’t deny blow my mind.

It’s perfect—somehow both bold and delicate, just like Chloe.

“How did you know?”

“I read faces. Look at you. You’re guarded, but your face is an open book, and honey, it’s a sad story. Those lines and your puppy dog eyes,” she points. “You look like you’ve thrown your last Hail Mary pass, and now you’re waiting to see if it’ll be caught.”

“Yeah,” I sigh.

“You came to the right place then. Flowers are a peace offering when words just don’t cut it.”

“So, you think this will do the trick?” I take the flowers from her gently.

“It’s a shot in the dark, but darling, sometimes the longest shots make the best stories. This bouquet will be your white flag, your ‘I’m sorry,’ your ‘let’s start over.’’

“And if it doesn’t work?”

“Then, at least you know you’ve played your hand. But remember, it’s not just about the flowers. It’s about the heart behind them.”

“Thanks,” I say. “I guess it’s now or never.”

She winks. “Go get her. And don’t forget, it’s not over until the final curtain falls.”

I pay the woman and thank her, even though a part of me knows that’s all just a savvy marketing strategy. But, if it works, it works.

I’m halfway back to the office when my phone buzzes. It’s a text from Chloe.

Chloe: We need to talk.

My stomach does a nosedive, and I quicken my pace. Bursting through the office door, I meet a sight that stops me dead in my tracks. Chloe is perched on the edge of my desk like a bird ready to take flight. She’s decked out in the most eye-popping dress I’ve ever seen her wear, covered in a garden’s worth of flowers. Her makeup is just the right amount, and her hair is a sleek bun.

Wow. Talk about eye candy.

“I brought my official resignation,” Chloe says, handing me a letter.

When did paper get this heavy?

“Chloe, wait—” I start, but Chloe cuts me off with a raised hand.

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