Page 108 of Guys Can't Write Romance
So who else could have sent them? Not Ava, whose idea of emotional support was offering practical advice and legal resources for dealing with estate matters. And not Chloe, who would have added a bottle of tequila and signed her name with at least three exclamation points.
That left Ethan.
At that moment, the phone in her purse buzzed with an incoming text. She pulled it out and saw that it was from Ethan.
‘Good morning, Daisy. I know we’ve had our differences lately, but I’ve been thinking about you. Would you consider joining me at the Peterson merger celebration tonight? CEO’s house in Bel Air, 8 PM. We should talk about things. Miss you.’
Daisy stared at the phone, then back at the flowers, a softness spreading through her chest. Despite what she considered to be a tentative breakup, despite his single-minded focus on New York, he’d remembered what today meant to her. Maybe he wasn’t as emotionally oblivious as she’d thought.
She quickly texted him back:
‘They’re beautiful. Thank you for remembering what today means to me.’
There was an oddly long pause before the typing indicator appeared on Ethan’s end. Then came his response:
‘Yes, of course I remembered. I know how important today is.’
No mention of the flowers. Nothing specific about what today meant to her. Something felt off. Before she could text back, another text came from him.
‘So, tonight? I’d love to see you.’
Daisy bit her lip, staring at the message. The thought of a fancy party, of making small talk with Ethan’s colleagues while pretending everything was fine between them, made her want to crawl back into bed. She quickly texted back:
‘I don’t know, Ethan. I’m not really in a party mood.’
His reply came almost instantly.
‘Please? Everyone’s been asking about you. And we need to talk about New York.’
Daisy’s fingers hovered over the keyboard. The mention of New York sent another wave of anxiety through her. That, combined with the confusion over her growing feelings for Chad, made everything feel impossibly complicated. She texted back:
‘I just thought I’d stay in tonight. Maybe watch a movie.’
‘Daisy, please. This is important. And you shouldn’t be alone today.’
She sighed. He had a point about being alone, even if the person she wanted to spend time with wasn’t him. She looked again at the flowers. It was such a beautiful, meaningful gesture. And not just any flowers — he had remembered her favorites. Maybe she had been too hasty in writing him off. Maybe underneath that buttoned-up exterior, he was more attuned to her feelings than she’d given him credit for.
She took a slight breath and texted back:
‘Okay. What time?’
His response came within seconds:
‘Excellent. I’ll pick you up at 7:30. Looking forward to seeing you.’
As she clicked off her phone, Daisy couldn’t help noticing there was still no mention of the flowers; or acknowledgment of what they meant to her today.
Chapter twenty-eight
Mansion Parties and Stepford Wives
The Peterson estate sprawled across three acres in Bel Air, a Mediterranean-inspired mansion with manicured gardens and a circular driveway currently lined with luxury cars. Valets in crisp uniforms stood at attention as Ethan’s BMW pulled up to the entrance.
“Remember,” Ethan murmured as the valet opened Daisy’s door, “Peterson appreciates people who understand their place in the hierarchy. Most of these people will be partners or on the partner track.”
“And what’s my place in the hierarchy?” Daisy asked, smoothing the unfamiliar silk of her dress as she stepped out.
Ethan placed his hand at the small of her back, guiding her toward the grand entrance. “You’re with me,” he said, as if that explained everything.
