揌e抯 ripped and loaded. Just bat your eyes and go along with it. Hell, maybe push for an extra performance bonus. Do you have any clue how many ladies in this office would love to be in your position for free??Anna says sweetly.
Heat throbs under my face. I bury my head in my hands, willing myself to disappear before I open my eyes again.
Didn抰 work.
I抦 still here, being tormented by people who are supposed to be on my side.
揟hat抯 enough, you two,?I say, trying to lay down the law. 揑 have my reasons for not wanting to be a standin bride. We抮e just not interested and I棓
My desk phone rings, grabbing my attention.
I pick it up with a heavy sigh.
揕incoln Burns, CEO, this is Miss Poe speaking. How can I help you??I say with rehearsed politeness.
揗iss Poe, this is security. I抳e got a delivery with your name on it. Should I send it up??
揥hat is it??I freeze in my seat, grateful Anna and Cheryl have at least gone back to chattering among themselves.
揅an抰 tell, but it抯 pretty long. Light weight. Came in a box. You want me to open it??
Oof, yeah, as long as it抯 not a bomb.
揝ure, open it and then send it up,?I say.
A few minutes later when the elevator opens, a guy wearing a building security uniform steps out with a bulging bouquet of puffy purple hydrangeas. 揇akota Poe??
Oh, no.
He stops and glances around. A few heavy seconds pass while I抦 frozen in my seat before I finally clear my throat enough to say, 揜ight here. That抯 me.?
Unfortunately.
He storms over and shoves the flowers in my face. 揅an I put these down??
揢m, sure.?I start rearranging stuff on my desk to make space like I抦 trying to bury my own shame.
I gesture and he sets the flowers down in the empty space I cleared. I have one good guess who they抮e from and it抯 already making my stomach heave.
揙hhh, gorgeous! Just the splash of color you need, Dakota. Who are they from??Cheryl asks, her eyes wide with excitement.
I try not to cringe. I should抳e known it was hopeless, hiding my anti-gift from one of the office big mouths.
揑 haven抰 read the card yet,?I lie. I find it buried between the flowers and pluck it out, unsure if the lead weight in my belly is mostly anger or dread.
Anna giggles obnoxiously. 揥e know who they抮e from! I think that抯 his way of saying he抯 game for a little marketing magic.?
Desperation, thy name is Anna Patel.
揧ou do, huh??I flip the card open only because I want to prove her wrong.
揃ossman has an eye for lavish gifts,?Cheryl says.
揑 wish,?I mutter.
And I actually do wish Lincoln was my secret admirer when I read the blocky words scrawled inside the card.
Can we talk? stares up at me, along with a new number.
Anna can抰 see the name. I抦 starting to believe she really thinks it抯 from Lincoln with the way she giggles. It抯 just incredible how the boss might be the least annoying person here today.
揥hat抯 going on out here??Speak of the devil. His voice drops low as he comes around my desk. 揊lowers? Who are they from??
揕ike you don抰 know,?Anna says, giving him an exaggerated eye roll. 揑 knew you抎 come around. That email you sent the other day about scouting talent with the model agency was a dead giveaway.?
He glares at her.
I think a full thirty seconds passes where Lincoln抯 dark eyes flick back and forth. It抯 like I can see him contemplating her termination.
揙h, well...maybe he doesn抰 know. Sorry for assuming,?Anna squeaks, then grabs Cheryl抯 arm. 揥e抣l get out of your hair, Mr. Burns. Lots of campaigns to polish up. Later!?
They both scurry to the elevator like fleeing rats.
It抯 so ridiculous it takes the edge off, and I almost laugh.
Then Lincoln抯 intense gaze lands on me and lingers until the elevator dings shut.
揥ho are they from??he asks, his voice low thunder.
I hold my hands up, trying to find the words.
揇akota? You have a hot new date or what??
Holy hell. The look on his face is one long silent scream of jealousy that makes me shudder.
揥hy do you care??I say with a shrug. 揟hey came from somebody back home.?
A little white lie painted purple. That抯 all I抳e got.
Even if we抳e been on better terms lately, I抦 not about to explain that my stalker ex keeps sending me unwanted flowers. For all I know, Lincoln might be ludicrous enough to follow through on his threats梩hough having Jay wrecked right now is very, very tempting.
揑 don抰 care, Nevermore. Just curious.?He rolls his big shoulders, a tension pulling through him like a cord.
揇on抰 waste the mental energy. They抮e for charity,?I say, refusing to meet his eyes.
揊or such a bad liar, you抮e bold,?he rumbles, leaning over me.
My heart skips a beat as I look up, defiantly meeting his swirling brown eyes.
揥hat? Why would I lie about this? It would be cooler if they were for me.?I know I抦 playing with fire, strumming his jealousy strings.
揅ool. Right. Whoever they抮e from has trash taste. Hydrangeas are overplayed and barely remarkable. They shout friend zone, not romance,?he says, and I抦 surprised he talks like he knows his flowers.
I bite my tongue so I don抰 laugh. Also, he isn抰 wrong.
揑 told you. They抮e just for charity. Down, boy,?I say playfully.
揅harity? Only because you don抰 like them, and you know I抦 right. Whoever sends this shit to a girl wants to make her drier than the Sonoran desert.?
The anger in his voice, his stance, has me feeling something and it抯 far from dry.
I swallow thickly before I say, 揧eah, well, why are you hating on my flowers so much? What抯 not to like??
He glares at me and then looks away as if I抳e touched some nerve.
Weird.
揟hey don抰 strike me as Poe flowers,?he says.
揚oe flowers? Do I even want to know what that means??I squint at him.
揘ot bold. Not you. I抎 have picked a dozen red roses with their thorns still on the stems,?he growls confidently.
I push back into my chair.
Whoa. Am I that obvious? I hate that he has me pegged, but not as much as I hate wanting flowers from a man like Lincoln Burns.
揃ecause roses aren抰 overdone or anything,?I bite off, trying to save face.
揧ou prefer something more exotic? Fine. Maybe something dark blue and fragrant from a rainforest in Bolivia. Regardless, I don抰 see light purple being your thing.?
I look at him, my brow pushing down.
揑t抯 not intense enough,?he explains, his jaw tightening with a hot look that cuts right through me. 揧ou抮e all bold color, Nevermore. Not washed-out pastels.?
My heart stops like a stuck clock. I抦 horrified because that might be the nicest compliment any man has ever given me.
揟hey抮e just flowers, dude,?I whisper. I can抰 even fake being angry. 揥ho wants to go blind looking at a little splash of color??
Again, a lump lodges in my throat as he gives me the heaviest look ever.
揧ou,?he says. No hesitation.
Oh my God.
揥hatever, Dishonest Abe,?I say, snapping my face to the side and rubbing my cheek, wishing I could wipe away blushes.
He chuckles. 揤ery on point today with the banter, sweetheart.?
I look back at him with an annoyed blink.
揇id you just call me sweetheart??
He shrugs both shoulders, a brash portrait of a man with no regrets.
揥hy shouldn抰 I? I know you better than the little gnat who sent those,?he tells me.
Crap. If only he were wrong.
How did I almost marry that loser, anyway? Jay never said anything half as sweet as Lincoln.
Granted, I was young and stupid and stuck in a pretty narrow dating pool. Too young for the big moody hero-men in town, who always had their sights set on some other lucky girl.
Maybe I dodged a legit bullet when the asshat didn抰 show up at the church.
I抦 still up in my head and slow to react when Lincoln grabs the bouquet off my desk.
揌ey! What do you think you抮e doing??I snap.
揝ince they抮e for charity, I抣l handle these for you. Unless you had a specific charity in mind to give them a new home??His eyes drill into me, knowing damned well I don抰.