Chapter 11
Eleven
I awoke the next morning with a renewed sense of energy, as if my unconscious brain had turned over my worries for me whilst I slept and sorted through them, deciding that they weren't such a big deal after all. I'd kissed Alfie Tell—so the hell what?
In a pale blue tea dress and yellow sunglasses, I blasted the radio on my way to work. I was determined to drown Mr Tell out of my thoughts and it worked. By the time I got to work, I was completely cleansed of him. Mostly.
I skipped into the cabin but once again, came to an abrupt stop at the sight of another gift on my desk. This time, there wasn't a doubt in my mind who the flowers were from. My good mood balloon slowly deflated.
I so don’t want to deal with this yet.
I stepped right back out of the door and slammed it shut, earning me a raised brow from Rosie who was passing by. I waved an apology and headed to the cafe. I needed a latte and a blueberry muffin before I was ready to deal with Alfie Tell again.
Ten minutes later, I sat at my desk, swallowing down a mouthful of muffin while I admired the vase of bleeding hearts. They were pink, interspersed with pale pink roses and baby's breath.
I reached for them and touched them tentatively. These little flowers held so much power for me. I'd told Alfie about them on the rooftop at Harrington House. My heart fluttered. He'd remembered.
I leaned down, breathed them in, and was instantly transported to my mum's arms. That was the power that flowers held for me. For some it was books, others music or art. For me, it was plants.
There was a small card attached and I opened it with a twinge of excitement.
Lola,
How long do you think it will take for you to come once I'm inside you?
Alfie.
My core clenched, a heat sweeping over me so powerful I sank into my chair. The visceral images in my mind played on a 3D screen, complete with surround sound. Mr Tell fucking me. Not loving me tenderly, fucking me.
I stared at the elegant scrawl that no doubt belonged to him. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, then opened them again. The heat in my core cooled as I stared at the pink flowers.
Apparently, he didn't understand the significance of the bleeding hearts as well as I’d thought.
My desk phone rang and I reached for it, reluctantly admiring the beauty of the flowers and wishing like hell that they'd come with less sordid intentions.
"Good morning, Rosie's Botanical Boutique."
"Good morning, Lola." His husky voice poured through the phone like silken honey.
My throat went dry. "What do you want?"
"We have to talk about last night." His tone was clipped.
"No, we don't. Last night should never have happened and?—"
"I disagree. Do you like the flowers?" His abrupt change of subject threw me for a moment. I couldn't keep up.
It wasn't simply a polite question. He seemed to genuinely care if I liked them. My heart twisted for a moment but then I wondered, did he really care? Or was he just pretending?
"Honestly, I wish you hadn't sent them. Bleeding hearts mean something to me and I think you know that. It isn't right to use them as a cheap trick to get me into bed."
"I don't need to send you flowers to get you into my bed, O'Connell." I bristled at his arrogance. He'd avoided the point. "So, what's the answer?"
"The answer to what?"
"Just how long do you think it'll take for you to come once I'm inside you?"
My throat closed up and I slammed the phone down, feeling stupid for letting him get the better of me. There was no way to compete with that level of seduction—I'd have been done for. I hated that arrogant, condescending…
My phone chirped, cutting off my internal rant.
I have to see you again.
A.
I shot back a reply.
Not going to happen.
Rejecting him was so much easier when I couldn't see or hear him.
Yes it is, Lola. It's inevitable. You're overwhelmed, it's natural to want to run, but I won't allow it. Meet me tonight.
A.
No. I pressed send and his reply was immediate.
Infuriating woman. Why the fuck not?
A.
Why not? Could he really be this dense? I sat back in my chair, trying to decide how honest I should be. I figured bluntness was the way to go, he didn't seem like a subtle kind of man.
Because I actually don't like you very much. You're arrogant, entitled, and have a complete disregard for other people's feelings. People like you aren't people I want to spend time with.
Long minutes ticked by before I got a response and I was starting to worry that I was being too harsh. It hadn't occurred to me that he would care what I thought of him.
People like me? You'll notice that I haven't judged you because of your financial or social status which I think we can both agree is far beneath my own. You don't know me, O'Connell, but you want to. You don't like me, but you want me. You're conflicted but you will agree to see me again.
A.
I fumed at my phone screen, wishing I could reach through it and throttle him. Beneath him, was I? Beneath him is where he wanted me and the man was willing to say anything to get me there.
Mr Tell, if I am going to work for you as you said last night then dating of any kind would be unprofessional. I'm simply not interested in jeopardizing my job for someone like you. In other words, back the hell off.
I sent the text with a slam of my thumb. The bright pink beauty of the bleeding hearts gleamed at me, showing off their amorous charm. I fought the urge to throw them in the bin.
I notice you still haven't answered my original question.
Sooner or later I'll find out for myself.
I'm going to fuck you, O'Connell. Not today and probably not tomorrow, but it's going to happen and when it does, I'll pound you until your knees buckle and your voice gives out from screaming in pleasure.
And when I'm done, you'll beg me to take you again.
And I will, because deep down, I think I could be a good man.
I'll be seeing you very soon.
A.
Oh sweet Jesus.
I gulped, reading the message over and over. This was getting way out of hand.
My head shot up at the knock on my door and Rosie blustered in. She wore her usual outfit of various layers of brightly coloured fabrics. Her beaded bracelets jangled on her wrists as she moved. Daisy lumbered in after her.
"Darling! Good morning! You're looking very well today, such colour in your cheeks! How flushed you are! Now, I just came to see if you'd heard anything about Harrington House yet?"
I knotted my trembling hands together and tried to keep my voice steady as I answered her.
"Not yet. I’m finishing the supply plan today and I'll email it to Mark to check over. Really there's not much I can do without him, everything needs his go ahead.”
She sighed and drummed her soil-covered fingers on the filing cabinet. "Yes, it's all very bad timing. Oh, those are just lovely!" she exclaimed, falling on my flowers and breathing them in. "Who are they from?"
"Just a friend."
"Alright alright, you keep your secrets." She winked at me. "How was your meeting with Mr Fitzpatrick?"
How exactly was I supposed to tell her that the meeting with Mr Fitzpatrick was actually with Mr Tell and it wasn't so much of a meeting as it was a make-out session?
“It was interesting."
"Good, good." She continued fussing with the flowers, and my fingers twitched with the urge to slap her hands away from them. I felt oddly possessive over them.
"Oh, I spoke to Mark again this morning. He wants you to go over in a day or two and give him a run down of everything. Also, he mentioned that it's the opening of the Serenity Gardens this week? I'd completely forgotten about it!"
I hadn't. The Serenity Gardens had been a massive project for us. It was an open botanical garden designed by the eccentric and brilliant Patrick Ferguson. The publicity for us would be huge and Mark’s expertise had been instrumental in its creation.
I only wished I could have been more involved in the designing of it.
"Yes, it's on Saturday, right?" I asked, as if I didn't already know.
"That's right. Anyway, Mark was invited of course but he won't be able to go now, so perhaps you ought to go in his place. You know I hate those sorts of things and we do need a representative for the business. Would you go for us, darling?"
"Sure, I'd love to go!"
"Wonderful! Wonderful! Ta!" she called and wandered out of the cabin as if she hadn’t just handed me a huge opportunity.
After doing a little happy dance in my chair, I opened the order system and began reviewing stock and supply orders.
It was tedious business and by mid-morning, the phone calls started pouring in.
I dealt with them in my usual efficient manner, but my heart wasn't in it.
It was still buried in the garden at Harrington House and what I would turn it into if the offer was still on the table.
By lunch, I'd just finished up with the thousandth inquiry that morning. I needed coffee again, and badly. I groaned as the phone rang for the millionth time.
"Good Morning, Rosie's Botanical Boutique," I answered as cheerfully as I could whilst wrestling my purse out of my bag, hoping I had enough change for another muffin.
"Have dinner with me tonight." My heart lurched at the sound of his voice. Did this guy never give up? "I'm sending Elliot for you after work."
"Mr Tell, I'm not having dinner with you and I'm afraid I have to get back to work. Enjoy the rest of your day." I hung up, and my mobile rang almost instantly, his name flashing up on my screen. I rejected the call and threw the phone in my bag.
I'd slipped up last night by letting him kiss me, but I wasn't going to do that again. I looked at the card he’d sent, re-reading it.
This was why he wanted me. Not because he liked me, but because he wanted to sleep with me.
I'd turned him down, challenged him, and now it was all just a game to him. I was just a game.
My phone chirped and I cautiously pulled it out of my bag.
I won't lay a finger on you at dinner. I promise.
A.
Did that make a difference? I huffed and started typing, but instead of texting him, I texted Keira.
I have a problem.
Within moments I had a reply.
Lunch?
Damn, I loved that girl.