Page 38 of Petals and Fangs

I must remain professional in the building, but it is too late now. There is something about her that lures me in, body and soul.

“Get it together, Ethan. We have work to do,” I whisper to myself, rubbing my eyes.

As I open my laptop, I quickly realize that the dating forum's tab is still open. There is no reply to my previous rude message, except for my recent message sent earlier this morning.

For some reason, I needed to know what the best breakfast a human woman would prefer was.

“Hey there! I would say go for something cute and simple like pancakes with fresh berries and whipped cream. It's easy and delicious. But given your last not-so-friendly message, I am only assuming your arrogant self is a bit over-demanding. I am also assuming you are the type of person who likes to go beyond and do something extra, but not in a good way. There are plenty of breakfast ideas on the internet, so I don't know why you would look for that in a dating blog, but it is the internet after all, so a lot of things happen here. Anyway, scrambled eggs with avocado and a little fruit salad on the side will do the job just fine. Not just any fruits, though. Make it something that will catch her eye. Make it exotic and colorful. Also, don't forget the coffee. Coffee works best when it is black. No sugar. Oh, and make sure you add a little touch of magic in there, but that is not something I need to remind you of since you do seem like you would go beyond your boundaries to please whoever you need this information for, and that is something we both know you cannot do. PS: coconut and mangos make for the perfect breakfast fruit.”

I reread the message several times. Something about it feels off and I can’t figure it out just yet.

“What? What the hell did I just read?” I ask myself. My fingers are on the keys, ready to type back.

There is a part of me that is angry with this comment, and another part that is thinking about the breakfast mentioned in the comment.

“Coconut and mango? Isn't that-“ I am soon interrupted by a call from my attorney, Perry.

I stand up, leaving my chair and laptop behind. My hands are sweating, and I can feel my thoughts racing. It is as if I can hear the chaos occurring inside my head.

“Yes, Perry? Good morning.”

“Morning, Mr. Rothschild. We need to talk.”

“We need to. Do you have any updates?” I ask, placing my hand in my pocket.

“Not yet, but I am working on it. I wanted to ask if we could meet up sometime today to resume our meeting.”

“Yeah, that will be fine. What time?”

“Is lunchtime alright?”

I walk to my chair again; my eyes and thoughts are focused on the message on the screen. Everything about it feels so familiar. This message is exactly like her. Like Lily. She is behind this. Lily is behind this. Is that possible?

“Lunch is fine. I'll see you then. Thank you, Perry,” I say and hang up.

I place the phone on the desk and look back at the message again. If anyone loves a coconut and mango fruit salad, then it is Lily herself. I know her more than anyone else. I still remember every detail about her.

“How can I forget this?” I say to myself, shaking my head.

I can't take it anymore. I must see her. Perhaps the look on her face can tell me something.

I slowly walk toward Alfred's office. As I get closer, I can feel her sweet scent lingering in the air. My eyes are closed and the memory of her in my arms is flooding my mind.

“There you are,” I hiss at Lily. She doesn't look surprised to me. She looks as if she has been waiting for the very moment to see me.

“I've been waiting for you.”

“That makes the two of us.”

“I thought you were going to see me sooner. I have done a better job in Alfred's office than in yours,” she says, as she looks around her.

She is not wrong. The office looks like an entirely different place. It is colorful, and there is not a single piece of paper on the desk. It is a vast improvement, I can tell.

“I bet. But that is not why I'm here,” I tell her. My mind is so full of thoughts. I can ask her a million questions right now.

“What is it then?”

“I-” I begin, but soon feel powerless. I can't get mad at her. I want to ask her so many things, but the way she looks at me makes me weak.

---