Page 119 of Keep Your Friends Close and Your… Work Enemy Closer?

Flowers? From who? "Sure. Thank you."

I paced as I waited, wondering if Max had sent them, the only possible person. Or maybe one of my sisters. But that would be odd since there was no special occasion to celebrate. It'd have to be one of those just because moments, which was rare.

Minutes later, a porter knocked softly, and I opened the door to find a stunning arrangement of white lilies and peonies. I thanked and tipped him, then carefully took the vase, inhaling the blooms' delicate fragrance as I set it on my kitchen island, backlit by the summer sun streaming through the windows.

Rifling through the greenery, I found a small card to accompany the sinking feeling in my gut. With trembling fingers, I tore it open and read the note.

"Day one of my hopeful redemption arc. Since you're not answering phone calls or texts, I've resorted to flower bribery. Peonies because they're your favorite, and lilies that symbolize rebirth. And maybe second chances?"

Was he joking? He thought he could send me a nice bouquet of flowers and I'd forgive him just like that?

I was tempted to grab a hammer and smash the vase to pieces as well as the flowers. But theywerereally pretty, and it seemed like a waste to do something like that.

So instead, I ripped the card up into little pieces, then placed the remains inside an envelope. I'd arrange for a courier to deliver my "response" to him tomorrow at his office. And that would hopefully be the end of it.

How had he known that peonies were my favorite? I'd never told him that.

The man was a good detective. I'd give him that.

I spent the rest of the day working on the Venus project and making up a plan and timeline to hand off my other jobs. I hated this. It was a terrible feeling like I was abandoning authors mid-stream and not following through on my commitments, but there was nothing I could do about it.

By the following week, I'd successfully shifted everything and everyone except Venus over to others, and I'd also taken the step of announcing my real self to my former co-workers, wanting tojust completely come clean. If Veronica and Max didn't like that I'd told people, well, that was their problem.

I was done with all things Cordelia, and most certainly done with anything to do withDee.

The flowers kept coming, though, filling my entire living space. It was too much. And every note, I did the same thing, cut it up and sent it back to him. But did that stop him? No. Stubborn asshole.

If he was still sending them this week, I'd have to find a way to donate them to a hospital because I couldn't take this any longer.

The flowers I couldn't have cared less about, but the notes... even though I'd destroyed them all, the words lived on in my head.

Sweet words like"I'm not stopping until I see your gorgeous smile again," or funny things like "If I could go back in time, I'd fire myself instead. But since I can't, here's yet another please-forgive-my-stupid-ass bouquet."

And with each message from him, I felt my resolve chip away just a little before I could build it back up again into a fortified wall.

But on Monday, he switched from flowers to something else entirely, something that shocked me as well as threatened my carefully built defenses. That afternoon, the doorman called up, and I expected the usual floral arrangement, fully ready to pass it on to a worthy cause.

But there were no flowers, just an elegant envelope with my name scrawled on the outside in a confident script. My curiosity piqued, despite myself, I opened it quickly and read the handwritten note.

Since I know you're not a fan of alliteration, I'm moving on to another literary device. Let's see if you can figure it out for week two of my apology tour.

A is for amazing, because every little thing you do amazes me.

Was he going to do the whole damn alphabet?

Placing his note to the side, I pulled out another note card from the envelope, this one professionally printed on rich and sturdy paper.

A donation has been made in your honor to Literacy for All, a nonprofit dedicated to advancing literacy for underserved communities. Thank you for helping us share the gift of reading.

A reluctant smile tugged at the corners of my mouth before I forced my frown back into place, determined to tear up this note as well. I made a short rip then stopped.

This was actually incredibly thoughtful of him. And I'd never admit it to another soul but this one got me. Between the personal note and the donation, Max had shown how well he knew me.

Flowers would never win me over, even if he sent them for a solid year. But this kind of thing?

Fuck. This could spell trouble.

Thirty-Two

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