The Outlaw Prince's Captive - Holly Rayner Page 0,65
years later, here she was. Twenty-nine years old and already a has-been, the best times in her life behind her, working for a man who treated her as if she was a resource instead of a person.
She hated it here.
The day dragged, dull and monotonous. When the time for Naomi’s usual morning break came, she decided to forego it. She sensed that Rick was watching her, and she didn’t want to provoke disciplinary action. It was infuriating.
I’m entitled to my breaks, she thought angrily. Even though she didn’t particularly need a break, it bothered her to acquiesce to Rick’s unreasonable demands.
Finally, as the day was drawing to a close, Betty came back up to the front desk to visit her.
“I hope you didn’t get into any trouble for the muffin,” she said anxiously.
“No trouble,” Naomi assured her. “And it was delicious. Thank you for thinking of me. You made my morning a little bit nicer.”
“Oh, don’t mention it,” Betty said, waving a hand at her. “You’re my favorite person in this office, you know that.”
“Don’t let the others hear you saying that,” Naomi said with a smile.
A knocking on the office doors interrupted them. Naomi looked over and saw a deliveryman standing outside holding a bunch of flowers. He noticed her looking, waved, and pointed at the bouquet in his hand.
“I’ll get it,” Betty said. Ordinarily, it would have been Naomi’s responsibility to answer the door, but it wasn’t uncommon for other members of the staff to do so if they were in the area.
Betty let the man in and he approached the reception desk, holding out the flowers.
“Delivery?” Naomi asked him.
“Yes, ma’am.” He grinned toothily at her.
“What’s the name?”
“Naomi West.”
She was momentarily stunned. “Me?”
“That’s what it says on the shipping label,” the deliveryman said. “You’re Naomi West?”
“Yes,” she said.
“Sign here, then,” he said and placed a clipboard on the desk.
Naomi took it, signed, and accepted the flowers. “Thank you,” she said as he turned to go.
He lifted a hand in farewell. “Whoever your admirer is, he picked a nice bouquet for you.”
When the deliveryman was gone, Betty turned excitedly to Naomi. “You have an admirer! What’s going on? Are you dating someone?”
“No,” Naomi said. She was utterly mystified. “I haven’t even seen my best friends in weeks.” In the months since her mother’s death, she just hadn’t felt like being social, and she spent most evenings at home by herself. “I don’t know who could have sent these.”
“Maybe your sister?” Betty suggested.
“Maybe,” Naomi said doubtfully. “But it isn’t really the kind of thing Sarah would do. We get along just fine, but we’re not close or anything.”
“And it’s not your birthday or anything, is it?” Betty asked.
“No,” Naomi said. “It’s no occasion at all. This is completely out of the blue, as far as I can tell.”
“See if there’s a card,” Betty said.
Naomi began to poke among the blooms. After several moments, she unearthed a little plastic stick that held the kind of greeting card often found in flower shops. About the size of a business card, it was enclosed in a small pink envelope, “Naomi West” written on the front.
Naomi showed the card to Betty.
“Don’t keep me in suspense,” Betty said, gesturing to Naomi to keep going. “Open it. Let’s see what it says.”
“Are you two ladies gossiping on company time?” Rick’s voice cut in.
God. He had the capacity to ruin everything without even trying.
“We’re not gossiping,” Betty said. “These flowers were just delivered for Naomi, and she was about to open the card to see who sent them.”
“You really shouldn’t take personal deliveries at work,” Rick said. “It’s unprofessional.”
Naomi frowned. She knew for a fact that Rick had his subscriptions to several automotive magazines delivered to the office, but there was no way to point that out without being contentious.
“It’s not her fault,” Betty said. “She doesn’t even know who the flowers are from.”
“Then open the card and let’s see,” Rick said.
Naomi really didn’t want to do that with him standing there, but she didn’t see any other choice. She slit the envelope open and pulled out the card.
To Naomi West, from one of your all-time biggest fans. I’m sure you get this all the time—but a Starlight Boy can dream.
Call me?
Petr
Intrigued, she turned the card over and saw that a phone number was written on the back.
“Petr,” Betty said. “Who is Petr?”
“I don’t know,” Naomi admitted. “I’ve never met him, whoever he is.”
“This message is gibberish,” Rick said, leaning over Betty’s shoulder to read it. “A Starlight Boy can dream? What does he mean by that?”
Naomi didn’t answer. She had never been under any illusions about the fact that Rick wasn’t aware of her prior fame, and she’d never made any attempt to tell him about it. She was sure he would ruin it, the way he ruined everything, by making her feel somehow unworthy of it.
“Are you going to call him?” Betty asked.
“If you do, do it on your own time,” Rick said. “I don’t want any more company minutes wasted on your love life, Naomi.” He gave the flowers such a withering look that Naomi was surprised their leaves didn’t turn brown. “Make sure you take those home with you when you go. I don’t want them cluttering up the office.”
Much to Naomi’s relief, he turned and walked away again.
“You’re going to call this guy, right?” Betty prodded her. “You need to get out, Naomi.”
“I don’t know,” Naomi said. “Something about this feels sketchy.”
But she slid the card into her pocket anyway. There was no need to make up her mind right now.
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