Page 37 of Holiday Hoax

42 blooms for every day I’ve been falling for you.

Ian

“Oh my god,” I whisper as I look at the arrangement of red roses.

“Let me see that.” Mason plucks the card from my fingers. His eyebrows climb his forehead as he reads it. “Holy shit.” He hands it over to Sylvia.

“That’s incredibly romantic.” She looks over at me. “What are you going to do?”

“Thank him, obviously.”

“Bitch, if you don’t, I will.” Mason stares at the flowers with a look of awe. “I think I’m swooning.”

I open the drawer and pull out my phone.

Thank you so much for the flowers

They’re beautiful

You’re welcome, I’m glad you like them

I love them

I search my mind for something else to say, but I can’t think of anything. Everything I come up with seems empty. It’s not just that he gave me flowers, it's the sentiment behind him. Counting how many days it’s been since all this started is deeply thoughtful. If it were any other man, I’d assume it was his assistant’s idea, but I know that this is all Ian. It’s who he is.

Soon after our text exchange, the door opens again, but with a client this time. The rest of the day stays busy. I don’t have time to focus on Ian, but every time I look at the flowers on the front desk, I think of him and butterflies fill my stomach.

The last thing I’m expecting at the end of the day is to walk out of my bedroom and find my brother sitting on the couch with two pizza boxes and a six pack of beer on the coffee table. I’m startled but not upset. That doesn’t mean I won’t give him shit, though.

“There’s a thing called a phone. You use it to communicate and let people know your plans instead of just letting yourself into their apartment while they’re showering.”

“Huh.” Nico scratches his jaw as he stands to come hug me. “Never heard of it.”

I give him a tight hug, happy to see him after months of him working in California. “Remind me to take your key back.”

“I’ll give you the one I used right now.”

“Because you have ten others lying around?”

“Bingo. You know me so well. It’s like you love your favorite brother or something.” He taps his chest.

“You’re my only brother.” I roll my eyes and lift the lid of one of the boxes to see what he got. “Where’s Stella at?”

“Dinner with her mom.” He grimaces. “Who sent the flowers? I looked for a card but didn’t see anything.”

“Maybe I bought them for myself.”

“Or maybe the owner of the Yale hoodie you’re wearing sent them.”

I glance down, realizing I put on the sweatshirt I wore home from Ian’s house. “I thrifted it.”

A pang of guilt hits me. I’ve never lied to Nico, even about something minor. He and I have always been the closest and beyond being my brother, he’s my best friend.

Nico’s eyes narrow as he watches me grab a slice of pizza and take a bite. “I don’t believe you.”

I shrug and take another bite.

“How are Mom and Dad?” he asks.

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