“Did you really want him, Sandra?”
She shrugged. “Who wouldn’t? But he’s very clearly not into me. He’s into you. In a big way.”
I frowned. “What makes you say that? We were just talking normally. Actually, we didn’t even speak to each other that much. I was busy with the arrangement and he just watched me.”
“Watched?” she scoffed. “Are you kidding me? He devoured you with his eyes.”
“He did not,” I breathed.
“Hell, the way he looked at you, I thought he was going to pounce on you and do the deed right there on the table. And you, you couldn’t even look him in the eye. I’ve never seen you like that. You always look everyone in the eye. Plus, the proximity? It was like you were old lovers or something.” She paused. “There was so much sexual tension between you two that I could have sliced through it with a knife.”
“Now, you’re just being dramatic. If he was that interested, why didn’t he give me his number? A guy like that, living at the address he lives at, is definitely not shy.” I took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly. My assessment of him was correct and what Sandra must have picked up on was the sexual tension I was putting out, not him.
“So,” I carried on, “there’s no way I’m calling him. In fact, I’m going to delete his number.”
“He knows you have it,” she said, folding her arms. “So not contacting him will just be rude. The message he’s going to receive is you can’t even be bothered to be civil. He’ll never be able to come back here with his head held high, and we will lose an obviously wealthy customer. That’s not very smart, is it? And if my aunt asks how the shop is going after she approved your bank loan, I’m not lying for you. I’ll let her know, and that’s not a threat, it is a fucking promise.”
I tried to laugh at the Mafia talk, but the laughter died in my throat at the expression in her eyes. She turned around haughtily and returned to her desk. The phone in my hand suddenly seemed to weigh a ton. I put it down and began to clear the table. It was a slow day and I let Sandra leave early.
I stayed alone in the shop with my flowers. They had always given me great joy. Just being around them made my heart glad. I went over to the bucket of daylilies. “What do you think? Should I call him?” The flowers remained silent. “Easy for you,” I muttered and continued to pace the shop floor. By the end of the work day, I was exhausted with thinking about the new number stored in my phone.
I’d thought to call, but my throat had tightened with so much anxiety that I was scared that when the time came to speak, my mouth would stop working. When I got home, I made myself a quick pasta, but had no appetite to eat it. I switched on the TV and stared at it blankly. I scolded myself for being such a little coward.
Finally, I picked up my phone and typed out a message to him. Deleted it, and retyped it again. Took a deep breath and deleted that. Thought about it. Wrote another couple of lines. Nope, that would be forward. Tried again, from another angle. Nope, too pathetic. Went for something simple. Delete. Too simple. After countless efforts, I went back to the original message. And before I could think anymore about it, I hit send.
Then I buried my face in my pillow. My heart was beating so fast I could hear it.
12
Caleb
I was going through the Annual Reports of the company I was interested in acquiring, when the message arrived on my phone. I knew instantly it was her. I snatched up my phone and stared at the words half in shock, half in disbelief.
Hello. This is Willow … from the flower shop.
My heart slammed against my chest with the surge of intense joy. I had made contact. I had finally cut a direct path through a forest of thorns to her. I read the message over and over again. As I stared at the sweet words, another text came in from her.
I’m sorry I didn’t give you a response to your question back at the shop. I was a bit taken aback. If the offer is still valid, I would like to take you up on it. Dinner sounds awesome. Again, I apologize for not responding immediately. I tend to be shy sometimes. Have a great night.
I launched myself into the air. It felt as though my chest was on fire and fiery currents of wild excitement were buzzing through my veins. I gave a whoop of joy and punched the air.