An explosion of flowers, muffin baskets, chocolates, stuffed animals, and balloons spill in all directions. It looks like a freaking floral shop decided to take up residence in our wing. It feels like wet concrete is slowing my stride as I notice that the gift cascade seems to be stemming from my cube. There might as well be a guilty finger pointing right at me from that general vicinity. I’d have a better estimate of the originating source if I could actually see my beloved corner.
Three sectional panels create a rectangular space that I share with Olivia. Those partitions are flimsy on a good day. Now? Our so-called walls are warping toward an imminent collapse. All that separates our stations is a countertop scrap, so what’s hers tends to overflow into mine, especially in this case.
Speaking of my cube mate, Olivia is waiting for me as I approach. She’s tapping her foot on the off chance I miss the exasperation pinching her features. “It’s about time you strolled in. What the hell is all this?”
“Looks like you’ve snagged a new boy to worship you. He’s a winner in the presents department. For your sake, I hope he’s not compensating for something with all this.” I toss out a forced cringe on the last part for her benefit.
This chick’s track record for attracting stage five clingers is embarrassing. No sane man would go to such extreme lengths to please a girl, even by my whimsical standards. I can almost appreciate how this sappy display resembles a romantic comedy clip. Only in the movies would this be considered cute.
“This is all for you.” She waves her arms in a wild circle. Her tone isn’t trying to hide the bitter edge.
A scoff escapes me at her accusation. Last I checked, my prospects were zero. I’m confident that the championship title for worst date ever will be mine soon enough, though. “That’s not possible, but nice try.”
“Think again.” She juts her chin at a balloon that has ‘Savannah’ plastered across the middle.
Well, that answers that.
This couldn’t be more deliberate if Landon smacked me on the ass. His name is smeared across every seemingly thoughtful item. The asshole gets credit for being creative. I didn’t see this coming.
A tiny sliver buried in my lonely heart preens at the sentiment—fake and diabolical though it might be. If only a guy would send me flowers with genuine intentions. Prince Charming won’t come within ten miles of me with a villain of Landon’s caliber circling too close. All I’m left with is a bitter taste in my mouth from this atrocious prank. He’s mocking the system.
Olivia wrinkles her pointy nose at an oversized teddy bear. “You need to clear the aisle immediately. This mess is disrupting our productive environment, not to mention breaking fire code. And I’ll need access to my desk at your earliest convenience. My clients are waiting.”
“Thanks, Captain Obvious.” As if it’s that easy. Where the heck does she expect me to stash this loot? I’ll need an entire storage unit. There must be a local organization willing to accept these as charitable donations. “How about you give me a minute? I literally just walked in the door.”
Talk about a buzzkill.
She cocks her hip. “Not my problem.”
“I didn’t ask for this.” I whip a frantic hand at the disaster that’s occupying our cubicle.
“Actions speak louder than words. You must give mind-blowing head.” Her grin is all taunt.
“Don’t be a twat waffle,” I retort.
“Real mature,” she snips.
“You’re being a hypocrite.” My voice has a cheery lilt that I’m sure is successful in ratcheting her frustration.
On cue, Olivia rolls her eyes. “I’m late for a meeting. This better be gone when I get back. If I were you, I’d get busy finding a scoop shovel. Vince is furious.”
I falter at the mention of our boss. It’s a miracle he hasn’t ripped me a new one yet. “Quit with the third degree. I don’t require an interrogation. It’s not like I’m responsible for sending the stuff to myself.”
But I damn well know who is.
“Whatever.” She huffs and stomps away.
The urge to flip her the bird is hard to resist. I curl my hand into a fist and yank my gaze off her retreating form. More than a few people toss me a stink-eye as they struggle to pass. I wiggle my fingers, encouraging them to move along. The colorful pile redecorating our carpet is a great distraction from their grumbling.
This collection must’ve cost Landon at least a grand. Maybe more. That amount is a slight drop in the bucket to him. With a loud scoff, I rip a note from a nearby bouquet.
You wanted me to tell Vince. Now you can do the honors.
A hiss escapes me as I grab another one.
Is this committed enough for you?
The bastard is using my words against me. Real clever.
I snap a picture and send it to Landon, attaching an appropriate caption.
Me: Desperate much?
Lannie: I’ve never had any complaints.
I gag to avoid choking on his arrogance.
Me: I find that hard to believe since I’m literally complaining with this message.
Lannie: For the wrong reasons.
Me: There’s nothing right about this. You’re giving gentlemen a bad name.
Lannie: That’s their own fault for being mushy losers.
Me: You’re just jealous.
Lannie: And you’re picturing me naked.
I wrinkle my nose as the visual assaults me. Scrubbing my brain with bleach is in my near future.
Me: In your dreams, Lannie.
Lannie: You’re reusing phrases. Get fresh material, sugar.
I tamp down a scream. Even his texts make me stabby. I might need to reevaluate my objectives for this revenge scheme. Convincing Landon to fall in love was a lofty goal to begin with. Each combative interaction makes the odds tip farther toward highly unlikely. At this rate, getting him to catch a single feeling seems like a mighty feat. Knocking him down a peg or five will have to suffice.
Me: Repetition will get the memo through your thick skull faster. Don’t be intimidated by your shortcomings. I’m here to help, remember?
Lannie: This has been captivating—really—but I have actual problems to deal with. Enjoy cleaning your mess.
I’m busy cursing his existence when a stern voice slices into the chaos.
“Vannah, can I see you in my office?”
Static crackles in the air as I turn to address my boss. Shit. I pocket my phone and tuck tail toward Vince. “Yes, of course.”
He motions to a chair. “Quite a hectic morning, huh?”
I sit down with a fake nonchalance like the professional I am. “Yes, it seems everyone is in a tizzy.”
His eyebrows lower to scolding levels. “Let’s not beat around the bush.”
“Excellent idea, sir. Efficiency is always best.” It takes great effort to squash the old habit of fidgeting under his intimidating scowl. I’m a boss bitch, dammit. This is just a minor obstacle in my otherwise pristine career.
“I’m all for love and displaying affection, but this is over the top.” He points to the offending area.
“I couldn’t agree more. It’s a terrible distraction.” If I reveal who’s behind the delivery, there’s a shot at escaping this lecture. It’s probably slim and definitely not in my favor.