Page 74
Story: Resisting the Billionaire
I follow her into the back, holding a plant in place as she wrestles it into a decorative pot, adding fresh soil until it’ll stand on its own.
“This is beautiful. I’ve never seen it here before.”
“It’s a canna lily. I randomly had two different people ask about it last week, so I decided to stock it.”
“So business is picking up then?”
“Thanks to you. I swear half the orders I’ve had lately are your clients needing flowers too.”
“That’s great.” I move to the sink to wash my hands as she wipes the loose dirt from her palms into the trash can.
“Listen, I wanted to apologize if I came on a little strong yesterday,” she says in a soft voice.
“It’s okay-”
“No, I promise I’m not accusing you of anything. You’re allowed to be friends with a guy. And if his fiancee is cool with it, I especially don’t have any right to poke my nose in where it doesn’t belong.”
I roll my lips between my teeth, my insides doing a weird flip as guilt settles over me.
“It’s just… when my dad had that affair-”
“I know.” It basically imploded her whole family. He ended up moving away, deeding the flower shop to her in an attempt to make up for all the hurt he caused.
“Anyway, I know you’re not like that. And I’m sorry if I implied it.”
The guilt intensifies. No, Gabriel and I didn’t touch each other, but would she see it the same? Would Serena? Mr. Bishop?
The urge to confess it all is strong, but I don’t want my image tarnished in her eyes. She’s my closest friend. Plus, there’s that non-disclosure agreement I signed. I’m not supposed to discuss any private details regarding the Bishops for time indefinite.
And I’m fairly sure last night falls under the category ofprivate.
“You have nothing to apologize for,” I tell her, wanting this conversation over with already. She’s the type to consider a lie of omission still a lie. “How about I order in dinner for us? My treat. Business is picking up for me too.”
“Ooh, how about Thai food? I’ve been craving pad thai lately.”
“Done.”
We eat an early dinner in my office, making plans to go out one night later this week, and it almost feels like it used to. Back when I was only working for Denise, unaware of the stress I’d soon be putting on myself breaking away to start my own company. Back when I only worked forty hours and could plan a girl’s night out anytime with Diana.
Back when I might go out on a date every once in a while with a guy, very few sparking any real interest, and none with any lasting potential. I never found myself in over my head. Life was full of optimism then. Hope.
My working life is my personal life now, the two indelibly intertwined. And if one gets screwed up, so does the other.
What am I going to do about last night?
Okay, calm down. Yes, it was amazing, but it was a one-time event. Not happening again, despite Gabriel’s hinting at doing something like it soon.
Anything else is skirting the line too much, getting too far in. He’s engaged, even if it really isn’t cheating.
I try to settle back into work after we clean up our takeout containers, restless, and breathe out a sigh of relief for something to focus on when an email comes in asking about my availability to put together an event for a couple’s engagement.
I’m just finishing up crafting a response when my phone rings. It’s… Serena.
“Hello?” I answer tentatively. Usually I’m the one calling her.
“Hi, do you have a moment to talk?”
“Sure.” I shift in my chair, something about her tone not quite right. Maybe she feels bad about canceling that final dress fitting.
“This is beautiful. I’ve never seen it here before.”
“It’s a canna lily. I randomly had two different people ask about it last week, so I decided to stock it.”
“So business is picking up then?”
“Thanks to you. I swear half the orders I’ve had lately are your clients needing flowers too.”
“That’s great.” I move to the sink to wash my hands as she wipes the loose dirt from her palms into the trash can.
“Listen, I wanted to apologize if I came on a little strong yesterday,” she says in a soft voice.
“It’s okay-”
“No, I promise I’m not accusing you of anything. You’re allowed to be friends with a guy. And if his fiancee is cool with it, I especially don’t have any right to poke my nose in where it doesn’t belong.”
I roll my lips between my teeth, my insides doing a weird flip as guilt settles over me.
“It’s just… when my dad had that affair-”
“I know.” It basically imploded her whole family. He ended up moving away, deeding the flower shop to her in an attempt to make up for all the hurt he caused.
“Anyway, I know you’re not like that. And I’m sorry if I implied it.”
The guilt intensifies. No, Gabriel and I didn’t touch each other, but would she see it the same? Would Serena? Mr. Bishop?
The urge to confess it all is strong, but I don’t want my image tarnished in her eyes. She’s my closest friend. Plus, there’s that non-disclosure agreement I signed. I’m not supposed to discuss any private details regarding the Bishops for time indefinite.
And I’m fairly sure last night falls under the category ofprivate.
“You have nothing to apologize for,” I tell her, wanting this conversation over with already. She’s the type to consider a lie of omission still a lie. “How about I order in dinner for us? My treat. Business is picking up for me too.”
“Ooh, how about Thai food? I’ve been craving pad thai lately.”
“Done.”
We eat an early dinner in my office, making plans to go out one night later this week, and it almost feels like it used to. Back when I was only working for Denise, unaware of the stress I’d soon be putting on myself breaking away to start my own company. Back when I only worked forty hours and could plan a girl’s night out anytime with Diana.
Back when I might go out on a date every once in a while with a guy, very few sparking any real interest, and none with any lasting potential. I never found myself in over my head. Life was full of optimism then. Hope.
My working life is my personal life now, the two indelibly intertwined. And if one gets screwed up, so does the other.
What am I going to do about last night?
Okay, calm down. Yes, it was amazing, but it was a one-time event. Not happening again, despite Gabriel’s hinting at doing something like it soon.
Anything else is skirting the line too much, getting too far in. He’s engaged, even if it really isn’t cheating.
I try to settle back into work after we clean up our takeout containers, restless, and breathe out a sigh of relief for something to focus on when an email comes in asking about my availability to put together an event for a couple’s engagement.
I’m just finishing up crafting a response when my phone rings. It’s… Serena.
“Hello?” I answer tentatively. Usually I’m the one calling her.
“Hi, do you have a moment to talk?”
“Sure.” I shift in my chair, something about her tone not quite right. Maybe she feels bad about canceling that final dress fitting.
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