In my defense,it wasn’t aplan.
It was a vague romantic impulse involving roses, a reusable tote bag, and a last-minute decision to surprise my husband. It’s what romance writers do, right?
I stepped off the elevator at Croft Enterprises and smiled at the new receptionist, who looked up from her keyboard with the expression of someone about to cancel Christmas.
“Oh! Hi,” I said, immediately intimidated by her half-lidded gaze. I held out the flowers like a peace offering. “Is Cal free? I thought I’d drop these off.”
She hesitated. “Mr. Croft is out at lunch.”
“Oh.” I blinked. “He didn’t mention that this morning.”
“It was a last-minute thing. He’s with Mr. Chambers.”
Of course he was.
Hal.
Freaking.
Chambers.
“Right,” I said, too brightly. “Of course he is.”
“And you are?”
“I’m Matt. Cal’s husband.”
“Oh.” The receptionist began filing a nail. “Awks.”
Before I could crash -and -burn into a silent jealous monologue about Hal’s symmetrical face and Swiss bank accounts, a familiar voice cut in from the hallway.
“Why are you holding those flowers like you just got dumped onThe Bachelor?”
Rashida swept into view, wielding an iPad in one hand and a pen in the other like an Amazon gladiator in the form of a PA.She raised one eyebrow and gave me a look that said,“Whatever emotional tornado you’re caught in, I’m not getting pulled into it without snacks.”
“I thought I’d surprise Cal,” I said feebly.
She took the flowers from my hand like I was no longer qualified to handle them. “Come on. You’re not going to stand out here like a jilted prom date. Let’s find some water before these poor flowers start wilting faster than your self-esteem.”
She led me into Cal’s office. It was all glass and walnut and quiet confidence—spacious without being showy, elegant without trying too hard. Everything had clean lines and purpose… just like my husband.
Rashida vanished into the en-suite bathroom and re-emerged with a tall glass vase. She started arranging the roses with practiced hands. She adjusted one stem, then another, stepping back to survey her work. “There, that’s better. They just needed a drink and someone to notice. Don’t we all?”
As she continued to perfect her flower sculpture, she didn’t even look up as she said, “Okay, first of all—don’t be jealous.”
“About what?” I tried to sound clueless. I was usually pretty good at that, but not today.
Rashida glanced up and rolled her eyes. “About you-know-who.”
I feigned laughter… badly. “Oh, Hal? I’m not jealous of Hal.”
“Mm-hmm.” She gave a rose a precise twist. “You broughtflowers to a man who didn’t tell you he had lunch plans. That’s jealousy with petals.”
I sighed. “Okay, okay, maybe I’m a little jealous.”
“Of what? Hal’s annoying. He’s so obnoxious. What’s there to be jealous of?”
“I don’t know. The way he and Cal talk money and laugh about the good old days and reminisce about their rowing team—it’s likeThe Social Network, but with less coding and more rowing.”
