Page 24 of Sending Nudes to My Boss

“What’s wrong? Did something happen after I left?”

“No,” Dot says. “It’s stupid. I’m sorry. I’m not trying to be ungrateful…”

“But?”

She looks at me with those earthy blue-green eyes with a pained expression.

“I told you, I’ve got baggage,” she says. “It’s not your fault. I can see your heart was in the right place and I appreciate that.”

“Dot, if you don’t tell me what’s going on, I’m going to use your real first name again.”

Her eyes narrow.

“Don’t you dare!”

“Then tell me what’s up. We said honesty, right? What’s the baggage?”

She waves me inside the studio. I follow her into the kitchen. The memory of eating her out at that kitchen table is probably permanently burned into my brain, but I’m too focused on getting to the bottom of this flower situation to be too distracted by the table and chairs in the corner.

I watch as she carefully retrieves an old water pitcher from one of the cabinets and fills it with water, gently inserting the rose stems into the pitcher. Then she exhales, bringing them to the center of the kitchen table and setting them down.

“Okay,” she sighs. “Roses are what my dad would always bring my mother after a work trip. I always wondered why he did it. He never put much effort into birthdays, anniversaries, or Valentines Day. But whenever he got back from a work trip, it was always red roses and chocolates and all the usual cliche romantic gestures.”

Fuck.I think I know where this is going.

“I thought it was just their thing. His way of saying he missed her while he was traveling. Now I know.”

“Those work trips weren’t actually for work, were they?”

My girl shakes her head and I can see she’s fighting for her life trying to contain the emotions inside. I wish she wouldn’t. She has no reason to put up a wall when she’s with me. I’m with her, every step of the way.

“I guess he felt guilty or something. Or maybe just overcompensating so my mom wouldn’t be suspicious. Either way, once the truth about his infidelity came out, I realized every time I’d ever seen my dad come through the door with roses, it meant he’d just cheated on my mom. Every. Single. Time.”

She looks at me.

“You’re gonna think I’m crazy. But when I saw you with these roses just now, my first thought was ‘He cheated on you.’”

“I would never betray you, Dot.”

I go to the roses on the table, picking up the water pitcher and going towards the trash.

“What are you doing!?” she gasps, yanking on my arm.

“Dumping the roses,” I growl. “Anything that makes you feel that way isn’t welcome in your presence. Don’t worry. I’ll replace them with something else.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Dot insists. “And please don’t throw those away! That’s so wasteful. We can donate them to a hospital or a retirement home, or something.”

Reluctantly, I abandon the kitchen trash can and return the cursed roses to the kitchen table. Then I sit down and pull Dot into my lap, wrapping my arms around her and inhaling the fresh scent of her hair the way I’ve wanted to do since I last left this building.

“I wanted to get you a gift,” I murmur in her ear.

“I know. I appreciate the intention, even if it didn’t turn out how you’d hoped. The fact that you thought of me is more than enough.”

But it isn’t.

“What’s your favorite flower, baby?” I whisper into her ear, pulling her hair back to expose her delicate neck. “It’s obviously not roses. Or do you dislike getting any kind of flowers from men? I can work with that. No more flowers. I can buy you one of thoseEdible Arrangements.Do you like fruit? If not, I’ll make you a bouquet out of chicken nuggets or…or…”

Dot is belly laughing now and I’m relieved that she’s feeling better. The last thing I ever want is to be the reason Dot is sad. I’ll always be the man to wipe her tears, but I don’t ever want to be the reason for them in the first place.

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