Chapter 12
12
JACK
S ome people dread Mondays. I’ve always been neutral on them. On the weekends, I don’t know what to do with myself, other than golf with business associates. At the office, I have a list of work as long as my arm, either to delegate or attend to myself. There’s always more research, more information to cram into my brain, so I can make better judgement calls.
Now none of that feels nearly as important as driving Violet to work and making plans to see her after she’s done.
The entire day flies by, since I need to get enough work done that I can leave early to get to Violet.
I should’ve known not make exact plans, since a series of calls leading up to five o’clock has been scheduled. Luckily, my precious girl knows that work comes first.
Hey, gorgeous. Sorry, I’m running late. Hoping to be done by six.
Violet: No problem. I have another plant station ready. Can we deliver it around 5:30? Then I can hang out at reception and sketch.
Sounds good. Thank you, lovely flower girl.
I normally pace when I’m on the phone. At five-forty, I pace a bit further, out of my office and down the hall to see Violet chatting brightly with a few employees.
She really does bring life to the place. Even though I’m concentrating on the droning in my ear about financial forecasts, I’m also eavesdropping a little. Violet is explaining to two women that overwatering is the number one killer of houseplants and showing them how to check the soil and keep the roots healthy. Apparently too much water in the soil for a long time means the roots can’t absorb oxygen properly. They essentially drown. Who knew.
“Having wet feet for days would put you in a bad mood, right?” Violet laughs. “Plants are just the same.”
The new plant station looks amazing. Three small round black tables hold large gray speckled pots. One has trailing leaves that drape over the edges. Another is quite chunky and fluffy. The third looks like a tall feather tree. The different textures and shades of green work together perfectly to create a charming natural spot, right here in a boring office setting.
Violet sees me and gives a small wave. I wave back, beaming. There’s no sense in hiding my feelings for her. My entire company is going to find out soon enough. I’m already imagining my sweet girl excitedly choosing the flowers for our wedding.
I turn to walk back to my office, then come toe to toe with the one man in the area who is not smiling at Violet.
“I’m sorry everyone, we’ll have to continue this tomorrow.” I abruptly end my call and pull off my headset, then stare at a stockier, angrier, meaner version of myself. “Dad. This is a surprise. What are you doing here?”
His face holds no expression, but his eyes dart to his left. Violet is wearing a peach-colored floral dress and pointing to the tallest tree while explaining something to the now four people crowded around.
“Heard you’ve been running around with some hippie chick.” His booming voice echoes through the space like a gunshot, causing every head to snap toward us. “That her? You must’ve lost your fucking mind. How do you think that looks to clients?”
Grabbing him roughly by the arm, I march him down the hallway and practically fling him into my office. His frame might be wider than mine, but I am pure muscle and I’ve got three inches on him. Dad staggers against the door and looks up at me, shocked. “What the hell was that for?”
“You will watch how you speak about her.” I’m so furious that my eyeballs feel tense. My hands clench into fists. I might possibly use them. “Better yet, do not speak about her.”
He laughs loudly, right in my face. “Whatever. I guess I should have taught you to be discreet when you have the few inevitable affairs with flaky chicks. Should have explained how to pick a proper woman, too – someone old enough for you, for a start.”
“Close the door.”
“Hell no,” he snaps. “What – you don’t want your precious staff to know that you’ve been prancing around with a goddamned?—”
My hand claps over his mouth with a harsh slap. “I swear to God, if you say one more negative word about her, I will call security and have you thrown out on your ass. Or your head. They are remarkably similar.”
Pure rage flares in his eyes. Finally he moves over so that I can kick the door shut.
I release him, then take a slow breath, trying to control myself. “What are you doing here?”
“Checking to see if the rumors are true that you’ve been allowing someone to make huge changes to the office. It’s completely disruptive.”
“I fail to see how adding a few plants is disruptive.” As he glares daggers at me, I consider that he only responds to cold, hard facts, never opinions. “NASA has done studies on how plants clean the air, Dad. More oxygen and fresher air mean the employees will be able to focus better for longer periods of time. They’ll also enjoy being here if it’s more pleasant. Which means less employee turnover.”
Dad blinks. “Really?”
“Yes. Not that it’s any of your business. What makes you think that you can just stroll in here whenever you want without an appointment, anyway?”
He smirks. “Because half the people here think I’m the one who’s actually in charge?”
“I’ll go out of my way right now to make it abundantly clear that you’re not.” I open the door again. “Please, let me walk you out. You will never get past reception again without an appointment. Or I’ll have you banned from the building.”
“You can’t?—”
I lean in with a glare that could strip paint off metal. “ Watch me. ”
I don’t even look at the new plant station as I march my father out to reception and straight onto the elevator. He doesn’t say another word, thank goodness.
Once he’s gone, I rush to apologize to Violet, although I don’t even know where to start. I’m not sure how much she heard. And she’s sensitive – I know she’ll take this personally, and I don’t know how to apologize, or if I can even promise her that it won’t happen again.
But she’s gone.