Page 1 of Be-Leaf in Love

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VIOLET

Ilove strolling down the street with a large arrangement of beautiful, fresh flowers. Strangers smile at me as if it’s my birthday, even though I’m just the delivery girl.

Well…not officially. Our family plant store has a delivery guy with a van. I just like going for a walk once a day to do a nearby delivery. Fresh air, a bit of exercise, plus I get to see someone’s face light up.

My sisters and I work our butts off in the shop, and I think it’s important to get real feedback from customers out in the world, you know?

I reach the tall office tower, where the mirrored elevator is super quick as it whisks me up. I use the time to take one last, energizing whiff of the pink and peach roses mixed with Peruvian lilies and lilies of the valley.

I can’t help but wish that I had a boyfriend who would do something this sweet for me. I know: I shouldn’t be in a hurry. Twenty-one is still very young, and I have my entire life ahead of me. It’s just the thought of having a special someone to think about all the time… I love it. Or, Iwantto love it, as soon as it happens. What can I say? I just love the thought of love.

English Investments is on the thirty-fourth floor. I’ve been here many times – Melati, the receptionist, often orders small arrangements to celebrate employees’ big life events…engagements, weddings, birth announcements. I wish they’d start placing a weekly order for something for the front reception desk to add some life to the almost clinical waiting area. All they have is an ultramodern polished steel sculpture.

Melati’s eyes grow huge when she sees me, and she stands up as I approach. “Violet – sorry, there must be some mistake. I didn’t order anything for today.”

Grinning, I come around to the side of her desk to set the arrangement down. “Read the card.”

I was the one who took the order and using my best penmanship wrote, “My Darling Melati – wishing you a birthday as wonderful as you. Hope this brightens your space. Can’t wait for dinner tonight, baby.”

A flash of almost-jealousy had run through me as I was writing it. I’ve dreamed of having a man call me “baby” for what seems like forever.

She reads the card, then reads it again, then blinks at me with misty eyes. “This is the first truly romantic thing Pete has ever done.”

“Maybe it’s a sign of things to come.” I smile warmly. “Happy birthday! Hope you have a wonderful dinner tonight.”

Her hands are trembling as she walks her fingertips around the edge of a rose petal. “Thanks, Violet. You always have the best flowers, but these are just gorgeous.”

Flashing her another smile, I turn to leave, then hear a clatter and a gasp. I spin to see that Melati knocked over her water glass as she was sitting back down. She jumps up again, water all over her skirt. “Oh no!”

I rush back over. “Quick – go grab some paper towels. If anyone calls, I’ll just put them on hold.” The phone hasn’t rung once since I’ve been here, so I figure that’s pretty safe.

Sure enough, the second she dashes to the ladies’ room, it rings. Fortunately, it’s the same make as the phone we have in the shop. Fancier, but the buttons look the same.

“Good morning, English Investments. Please hold.” A man in a light gray suit walks by and mutters, “Good morning” without even looking at me. The phone rings again. And again. By the time Melati returns with a mostly sponged-off skirt, four people are on hold.

“Thanks, Violet.” She drops into her seat and begins fielding calls left and right without missing a beat. Watching her immediately fall into the zone is kind of inspirational, actually.

I pull the flower arrangement slightly out of her way so she has more room to take notes, then am turning back toward the elevator to leave when the doors ding open and a tall, broad-shouldered man in an immaculate black suit steps out.

He’s on his phone as he nods toward the reception desk. “Coffee. Quickly please. I only have five minutes.”

Although I only get a look at the side of his face, the man is beyond stunning. I don’t think Melati even hears him, since every time she manages to put a call through, the phone rings again.

He said he was in a hurry. I don’t want her to get in trouble. And since he didn’t even look up to see who was on reception, he probably won’t notice who hands him a coffee. Right?

Nobody looks up from their work as I scurry down the hallway, following my nose to the breakroom. Luckily, the large pot of coffee smells freshly brewed, so I fill a bright green mug and tiptoe down the long corridor. Past the cubicles is a row of offices. The doors are frosted glass, so it’s easy to see which are occupied.

At the end of the hallway is a large empty spot of wall right beside a long stretch of window.Wow, that would be the perfect place for some greenery.

The door to the office at the end of the row is open, and I can see the tall man pacing around a large desk. Wow – his office ishuge. Plus he has a stunning view of the skyline. His silvery-steel watch flashes in the sunlight as he gestures while speaking.

He pauses mid-pace with his back to the door, giving me the opportunity to sneak in and set the mug on the desk. I’ve almost escaped unnoticed when he ends his call and a deep voice barks, “Who are you?”

“Nobody. I mean… Melati was chained to the phone. I’m just the flower girl.”

He steps closer.Oh my.This man isgorgeous. From a distance, his dark hair and outdoorsy tan were already arresting. Now that I’m staring into his warm brown eyes, I feel totally lost.

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