Sent: February 13, 7:02 a.m.
Wes,
Here’s the 411: Anyone can pick out roses. They’re predictable. Better options to tell someone what you think of them: lilies （classy）， sunflowers （bold）， dahlias （unique）， ranunculus （soft and girly, but still something different）， tulips （cheery）， and peonies （they smell awesome）。 Does that help?
I wasn’t sure if he’d responded, since I’d stashed my phone before the meeting. I didn’t know how to feel about the relief that washed over me when he said he didn’t have a valentine, so I tried to ignore it and focus on the meeting. Tackling Body FTW hadn’t lessened the rest of my work, and I had an inbox full of tasks to get through, from reviewing drafts to following up with other departments. I made a quick to-do list on my notes, thinking through what I might write next. I was deciding between a few ideas, but I turned the page when Maricela said my name and asked me to work with the art team on an upcoming photo shoot. Her tone and question were casual, like she asked me to do things like that all the time. I caught Claire’s stunned expression in my periphery. “Sure. I’d love to!”
After that, the mental dance routine continued, because everything was coming up Britta, and I allowed my thoughts to wander to Wes being single.
14
PEARL LOOKED POINTEDLY at her watch. “You needed to leave five minutes ago.”
I pretended to be engrossed in the to-do list I’d made during my last conversation with Aaron. “I know.”
“If that were true, you would have left five minutes ago. Cord told me you might do this.”
“Since when do you and Cord talk about my appointments?”
She ignored my question and grabbed my messenger bag, snatching my phone and slipping it in. “The car is downstairs.”
“Cord should mind his own business,” I muttered, pushing to my feet.
“Talk to your best friend about that.” I expected her to return to her desk once she’d dragged me from my office, but she stepped onto the elevator with me. “You’re a flight risk.”
Rolling my eyes, I leaned against the wall of the elevator like a sullen teenager. “Where are we meeting?”
“Margo’s. A diner on the South Side.”
I clenched my fist at my side. I was familiar with Margo’s. Kelsey had picked the location of our first date as well as our last date for our lunch meeting. I thought about canceling on principle alone.
“Who is this woman, Wes?”
I stepped from the elevator and took quick strides across the polished marble floor of the lobby. “The head of HottrYou.”
“Yes, of that I’m aware.” She kept up with me effortlessly, tall heels clacking. “Who is she to you?”
Pearl nodded her head to the black sedan parked fifty feet up the street. Even before opening the outer doors, the chill of the winter day crept over me. It was the cold, or the physical manifestation of how much I didn’t want to go to this meeting.
“I’m surprised Cord didn’t give you a full report while debriefing you on my schedule.” I pushed open the door and stepped into the frigid February day. “She’s my ex-girlfriend.”
Pearl called after me, “Next time I’ll remind Cord to get to the good stuff first.”
I sat in the back seat and tapped my fingers against my leg before pulling out my phone as we inched through traffic. Out the window, a man in a heavy gray coat loaded flowers and balloons into the back of a florist delivery van. Red and pink bouquets provided a sharp contrast to the blustery, colorless day. Thinking about B and her flower recommendations, I snapped a photo of the open trunk and attached it to a message.
From: FitMiCoachWes1
To: Bmoney34
Sent: February 14, 11:55 a.m.
B,
Lots of roses in this pic. Are you sure about your recommendations? I hope you’re having a good day.
Wes
Even as I hit send, I knew I shouldn’t. I’d set up the coaching program to avoid impropriety and keep communication professional. I set my phone aside, because I felt myself pulled to break my own rules and I didn’t like it. There was something about B that made me not only ignore the voice of reason in my head but permanently mute it.
From: Bmoney34
To: FitMiCoachWes1
Sent: February 14, 11:58 a.m.
Wes,
Amateurs. I wouldn’t lead you astray. I hope you haven’t bought boxes of fiber-loaded, fat-free, sugar-free, flavor-free carob for your friends and loved ones today.
B
P.S. Your weather looks as bad as mine. Where in the country are you? Can I ask that?