I made a show of gathering my things, signaling my departure was non-negotiable but framing it as a positive outcome of his brilliant “mentorship.”
Garrett’s jaw remained tight for a beat, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. He was clearly annoyed, but my flattery had left him with little room to argue without looking like a possessive jerk. “Alright, Beth,” he finally conceded, his voice a little too smooth. “I’ll let you go. But I’m holding you to that follow-up. We can’t lose this momentum.”
“Absolutely,” I said, already backing away toward the door. “Set something up for tomorrow at the office. I’ll be there.” I gave him a final, quick wave. “Rain check!”
I didn’t just walk, I practically fled from O’Malley’s, the cool evening air a welcome relief. The creepy vibes from Garrett still lingered, a greasy film I couldn’t wait to wash away. But the thought of my dinner date with Sean was enough to make my skin tingle in a much better way.
After a quick shower, I stood wrapped in a towel before my cramped closet. “What does one wear for a casual Italian dinner with their incredibly hot... boyfriend?” The word felt strange on my tongue, both terrifying and thrilling. The thought of the gala, and officially taking him as my date, made my stomach do a nervous little flip.
Just as I finished touching up my lipstick, someone knocked at the door. I frowned, checking my phone. It was too early for Sean.
A delivery man stood there holding an enormous bouquet of red roses. “Delivery for Elisabeth MacLeod?”
“That’s me,” I said, surprised. They were stunning—at least two dozen. A small card nestled among the blooms read: “Your beauty puts these roses to shame. They pale in comparison to your radiance.” No signature. A wave of unease washed over me. It felt too intense, too possessive. It wasn’t Sean’s style; his gestures were more thoughtful, less generic. I arranged them in a water pitcher, the sweet scent suddenly feeling cloying.
I was still staring at them, trying to shake the creepy feeling, when another knock came. This time, Sean’s handsome grin greeted me.
“Hey beautiful,” he said, pulling me into a kiss that momentarily erased every other thought.
“Someone’s trying to woo me,” I murmured against his lips, trying to sound playful. “I just got a massive bouquet of roses delivered.”
Sean pulled back, his brow furrowing. “Flowers?” He followed my gaze to the bouquet. His face fell, his jaw clenching. “Beth... I didn’t send any flowers.”
“Oh.” The word came out small and awkward. “I just… I mean, there was no name…”
“I should have thought to send you flowers,” Sean said quickly, frustration warring with something else in his eyes. “That would have been… I wanted to, I just…”
“No, no, it’s fine,” I rushed to reassure him, hating the look on his face.
Sean’s eyes narrowed, his gaze sharp as he flicked it between me and the roses. “Who else would be sending you flowers, Beth? Is there something I should know?” His voice was controlled, but I could hear the dangerous edge underneath.
“I honestly don’t know,” I stammered, feeling like a heel. “Maybe it was a mistake?”
“A mistake?” Sean’s laugh was sharp, humorless. “Two dozen red roses delivered to your exact address isn’t a mistake. Someone knows where you live, Beth.”
The romantic gesture was now officially a threat. Goosebumps rippled across my skin. I remembered Garrett’s intense stare, the way his fingers had gripped my wrist. But no. He couldn’t know where I lived. Could he?
“I swear I have no idea who sent them,” I said, my voice rising with a panic that was no longer just about Sean’s jealousy.
He rubbed the back of his neck. “Look, I know we haven’t officially defined... this,” he gestured between us, “but I thought we were on the same page.”
“We are!” I protested.
The hard lines around Sean’s expression eased slightly, but his gaze remained serious. “I believe you,” he said, his expression hardening again as he looked at the roses. “But I don’t like this. I don’t like some weirdo knowing where you live. We need to figure out who sent these.”
I bit my lip, hating that this shadow had fallen over our evening. “Please, don’t let this ruin our night.”
Sean studied me for a moment, then nodded, his focus returning to me. “Alright. Nothing can ruin being with you. But I want to make sure you’re safe, okay?”
“Yes, let’s go,” I said quickly, grabbing my purse. But as we left the apartment, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was being watched. Again.
CHAPTER TWENTY
SEAN
I’d been sittingfor an eternity, staring at my laptop screen, the words blurring as my mind wandered to last night’s dinner with Beth.
The hotel suite’s living room was quiet, but my thoughts were loud as hell. The document I’d been trying to edit for the past hour might as well have been written in Sanskrit for all the attention I was giving it.
