Page 24 of The One I Need
“I am, and you’re coming with me. No sense in you being here if I’m gone.”
Her eyes go wide as she looks at me, toward the elevator, then back to me. “You can’t leave yet.”
Oh this girl really needs to work on her stealth. “And why is that?”
“Well,” she begins. “It’s…well…it’s not five o’clock.”
“I’m aware,” I say. “I also know that I’m pretty sure I’m allowed to leave a few minutes early occasionally.”
“Of course you are. I didn’t mean it like that. I was just saying, well, what I meant was…”
I’m about to tell her to spit out whatever she wants to tell me when the sound of the elevator grabs both of our attentions. Stepping out of it is some sort of delivery person, but I can’t see his face because it’s covered by an insane amount of pink and white flowers coming from a vase. Flowers that look suspiciously like the ones I’ve been getting delivered every day this week.
“Delivery for Izzy McCall.”
I’m not counting, but there has to be two dozen flowers. The colors range from white to a hot pink and every shade in between. The second I’m handed the vase, my senses are overloaded in the best way with their sweet scent.
I shoot a look to Jules. “I take it you knew about this?”
She looks everywhere but me as she gathers her things. “Don’t know what you mean, boss. See you tomorrow!”
I laugh as Jules makes a beeline for the elevator. I set the vase down and grab the card, wondering what this one will say.
Shockingly, it only has two things written on it—a phone number and Oliver’s name.
Well played, sir…well played.
Chapter9
Oliver
I have been knownto pull some crazy shit over the years when it comes to women. In my defense, all have been in the name of love. Or at least what I thought was love at the time.
There was the time a girlfriend said she loved a certain band. Not only did I get her two tickets to see said band—floor seats, of course—I arranged a backstage meeting.
She broke up with me the day after the concert.
Another woman I dated sold clothing and jewelry over social media. I was so into her I was her assistant on her live videos. She broke up with me because she said she needed to “grow into her girl boss self” and a relationship would just get in the way. I think she was just mad that I sold more of those weird-looking leggings than she did.
And I know prom-posals are all the rage these days with the kids, but I invented that shit. True story. I don’t know of another high school senior back in 2006 taking a girl to a candlelit picnic where you had the words “Go to prom with me?” written on a pizza.
Then there’s that whole I’ve proposed thirty-three times over the course of my life—thirty-four if you count the one from the wedding with Izzy.
So in the grand scheme of things, the gifts and lengths I went to this week probably don’t crack the top five of most elaborate things I’ve ever done, but it does stick out in one major way—it’s for a woman I’m not yet dating. Who wants nothing to do with dating me.
I was raised by a single mom who had three sisters. If there was one thing I grew up learning is that when a woman says no, she means it. For my entire life, if I asked a woman out and she declined, I went about my way.
Until Izzy came into my life.
Each day that I sent her a package, the knot in my stomach just kept getting tighter with nerves. Even my first graders were wondering if I was okay. Bailey asked if I needed to “frow up.”
Was this the right thing to do? Did I make up how I felt that night? Does she think I’m certifiable with each passing day? Would I have had a chance if I would have just asked her out again like normal, but now because I went balls out so soon I don’t have a chance?
I fall back on my couch, bringing a pillow up to cover my face before I scream into it.
I haven’t looked at the clock in two minutes, so I’m guessing it’s still around six-thirty. She got my delivery two hours ago. I didn’t expect a call right away, but I was hoping for at least a text to put me out of my misery.
Or maybe she won’t message me at all because she hated everything.
