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I hurried into the cabin but froze almost instantly. There on my desk was a small gift box. My stomach sank at the sight of it.
Adam. My first thought was Adam.
In the beginning, Adam's gifts had been sweet; the flowers, the chocolates, the generic gifts. The problem was that it didn't take me long to figure out that he wasn't giving me gifts to make me feel happy, but grateful. If I wasn’t grateful enough, he would get upset.
The gifts would be trotted out on a conveyor belt of material affection as if a bouquet bought him a blow job. Adam had keptthe conveyor belt running long after we’d broken up, despite me asking for it to stop.
But Adam hadn't sent me anything in months and after a moment of studying the box, I realised with relief that this gift wasn't from him. Adam's gifts always came in a gaudy red box, this one was pale grey with a black velvet bow.
Curious, I loosened the bow, lifted the lid, and gasped when I found my phone inside.
Had Riley done this? Mr Tell didn't seem like the type to give a shit about me getting my phone back.
I switched it on and a message pinged through from Keira, asking me to have lunch with her today. I replied immediately with a yes. Lunch with my best friend was exactly what I needed.
Clutching my phone with relief, I switched on the old desk computer and waited while it booted itself into gear. I checked my emails first like always.
Still nothing.Every year for the last four years, I'd applied to study garden design at The London College. I'd sent in my fifth application months ago and every time my inbox pinged, my heart pinged right along with it. I was hoping that this year would finally be my year, but I wasn't holding out much hope.
The London College had been my dream since I was a child. It had been my mum's too. We'd talked about it a thousand times, and after she died the dream only became more important. Now it was fading away, and every rejection reminded me that I would probably never achieve it.
I glanced around the cabin, at the filing cabinets, the contents of which I knew like the back of my hand. At Mark's desk littered with his designs, at my own desk littered with supply orders and other grunt work. I loved Rosie's, but I hated the feeling that I was going to be a grunt worker for the rest of my life.
I was interrupted from my wallowing by the shrill ring of my desk phone. I cleared my throat, which had thickened with frustrated tears, and answered.
"Good Morning, Rosie's Botanical Boutique and Nursery."
"Miss O'Connell." His voice hit me with a visceral intensity that stole my breath away.
It washim.
I slammed the phone down and then stared at it in shock.
I'd just hung up on the CEO of one of the biggest companies in the world. What the hell was wrong with me? Why couldn't I just behave like a normal, professional person?
I almost jumped out of my skin when the phone rang again.
Jesus, Lola. Get a grip!
I picked up the phone as calmly as possible.
"Good Morning, Rosie's?—"
"That was impolite," he said with a calm tone that sent a shiver up my spine.
"What can I do for you, Mr Tell?" I asked, putting as much nerve into my voice as possible. I could hear voices in the background and I wondered where he was right now. I pictured him somewhere fancy, drinking scotch and smoking a cigar.
"Did you receive your phone? It should have been delivered by now."
"You sent it?" I was surprised. I looked down at my phone and the pretty box it came in and I couldn't help wondering what this act of kindness was going to cost me. Then I damned Adam for putting that paranoia in my head. "Yes I got it, thank you.”
"You're welcome." We lapsed into an awkward silence. I played absent-mindedly with the black velvet ribbon and waited for him to speak, but I had a feeling he was playing the same game.
I drummed my fingers on my desk.
I refused to break first.
I refused.