At lunch, Jordan hung around the small rec room in the back of the building, stirring his cup of noodles while he listened to his coworkers talk about how one of their spouses had ruined her birthday by not mentioning it until nearly eleven o’clock that night. Lydia brushed a strand of blonde hair behind her ear and turned to Jordan.
“What do you think, Jordan? Should Felicia forgive him for what he did?”
He didn’t know these two ladies all that well, but not wanting to seem standoffish, he said, “I’d probably give him the silent treatment for a few days.”
“That’s what I’m saying,” Lydia exclaimed. “Remind him why you deserved to have a good birthday. If he actually cares about you, he’ll find some way to make it up to you.”
Felicia sighed and picked at her microwavable fettuccini. “I guess. I’m just worried that if I do anything too harsh, he’ll be the one upset with me.”
“Men are trash that way,” Lydia conceded.
Lydia had no idea how deeply Jordan related to that sentiment. Were he closer with these ladies, he probably would’ve commiserated with them about all their relationship woes, but because he still felt new to the team, he remained relatively quiet, nodding when appropriate and keeping up with their conversation from a distance.
“So, Jordan, why did you pick Snapdragon? Most of our staff here is a bit older. Doesn’t really seem like something a younger guy would be interested in,” Felicia said, turning to him.
“Honestly? I needed the money and couldn’t afford to be picky,” he said, cracking a smile that the other two women mirrored. “Also, I’m pretty good with older people. Sometimes I like them a lot more than guys my age.”
“Ugh, an old soul. I love that,” Lydia said, reaching out to pat his shoulder. “I think it’ll be a nice change of pace to see a guy out in the front of the office. Especially one so handsome.”
Jordan glanced at the wedding ring on her finger, then back up at her with curiosity. When she followed his line of sight, she blushed. “Don’t tell my wife I said that, okay? God, do you remember the last time Shauna came up here when she thought I was stepping out on her?”
This launched another ten-minute conversation about Lydia’s marriage, and thankfully, it put him at ease. The last thing he needed when dealing with a broken heart was a smitten coworker and an even angrier wife barging through the lobby doors.
After they finished their food, Jordan returned to his desk and flipped through a book he’d brought with him. It felt weird reading something other than a book about lusty maidens and mafia dons with uncomfortably high sex drives, but he wanted to branch out. Test out other genres and see what else was out there besides the books he’d been obsessed with since he was a kid.
Jordan was so engrossed in the domestic thriller that he almost didn’t notice the front doors open when someone entered the lobby carrying the largest rose bouquet he’d ever seen. The person approached the desk, clearly unable to see, but when they plopped it down, they stuck their head out from the side of the roses, and Jordan nearly died on the spot.
No fucking way.
“Delivery for Jordan Collins,” the older Black woman said, pushing the bridge of her ruby red glasses higher on her broad nose. She smiled at him like she knew he knew exactly who she was.
“P-Patricia?”
“Jordan?”
“Yes, yes. Oh my god, yes. What are you doing here? Is this real?” Jordan was sure he’d slipped and hit his head in the shower, and this was all a long, elaborate fantasy. There was no other explanation as to why Patricia thee Hayes was standing in front of him holding an oversized floral arrangement.
“This is very real,” she chuckled.
“Okay, but why?” He didn’t mean to be rude, but the excitement in his stomach overrode his manners. Were Sherleen around, she would surely pop him in the mouth and tell him to show some damn respect. “Sorry, I’m just— I don’t—”
“That’s okay, don’t apologize. I think if you read that letter right there, it might all make a little more sense.” Patricia pointed one perfectly-shaped white oval nail at the tiny pink envelope nestled in the stems of the roses.
Almost too stunned to comprehend what she was not-so-subtly hinting at, Jordan snapped out of it long enough to reach forward and grab the envelope. Inside, he found a letter written in a tall, scratchy script that he recognized. Only Rex could have such a pretty face and such ugly penmanship.
“You said don’t come back, so I sent someone else in my place. I’m not done apologizing. Ask Patricia what’s next.”
It was cryptic and left Jordan both restless and eager to know what the hell they were going to do next. The pride in him wanted to tear the card up and tell Rex to shove all twelve roses up his ass, but somehow, some way, Rex had sent him flowers delivered by the one person in his life he loved more than his grandmother.
Whatever kind of black magic Rex had done to get this woman here, Jordan wasn’t going to let it go to waste. Not with Patricia standing in front of him, smiling knowingly.
“Um… What’s next?” he asked, doing exactly as Rex’s note said.
“Well, there’s a car waiting outside for both of us. I’m not allowed to tell you where it’s going, but I can say that you probably won’t want to miss it. Will you ride with me, Jordan?”
Hearing his favorite author say his name was nearly enough to make Jordan faint right there, but he kept his composure and nodded, practically jumping from his seat. “I have to ask my boss if I can leave early.”
“Don’t bother. Rex already called him this morning. All you have to do is ride with me.”
Every last word she spoke came out so eloquently, so perfect that Jordan was more than willing to sit there and listen to her read the phonebook, or even just the incredibly dull emails sitting in his boss’s inbox. Instead, he grabbed his jacket and pulled it on, snagging the large vase of flowers as well. Suddenly, he stopped in his place and turned to her.
“Can I hug you? If not, I understand, I just—”
Patricia’s hug shut him right up. She squeezed her arms around him and filled his nose with the smell of her rose and vanilla lotion. Right then and there, he decided that no hug would ever come close to this.
Nobody in the world could hold a candle to Patricia, and he was willing to throw himself on the sword to protect her.
“You’re so cute, you know that?” she asked, stepping back to cup his cheek. “C’mon. We don’t want to keep this Rex fellow waiting any longer than we already have. Something tells me every second we’re gone is eating him alive.”
“Between you and me, let him squirm.”
Her thin brows went up. “Ooh, someone in the dog house?”
“He’s sleeping on the couch in the dog house,” he laughed.
“You’re gonna have to tell me everything on the way there,” she replied, walking to the door. Jordan hurried after to her, speeding up to get the door for her. When they made it to the street, a simple black Honda sat waiting for them. The driver nodded as the two of them climbed inside.
“Take us to…” Patricia’s gaze slid to Jordan, and she smiled conspiratorially. “Take us to this address, please.” She typed something on her phone and turned it to the driver, and he nodded.