enough, slapping the door-close button, watching through the shrinking gap between the doors for any sign of an intruder. My mind is playing tricks on me. Nobody is sneakily following me upstairs.
To my utter relief, when the elevator dings, I step out to see a cheery Michelle waiting for me.
“Good morning, Marlena. Are you ready to get started?” She asks in a chipper voice that leaves my earlier paranoia forgotten.
“Absolutely!” I reply, trying to match her level of alertness. As she leads me to my desk, I let my mind wander to thoughts of more coffee. I’ll need the extra caffeine if I have any hopes of keeping up with her today.
My first morning on the job passed by swiftly; Michelle kept me busy with answering phones, filing papers, and copying documents. Basic office work, but it helped me to familiarize myself with the surroundings. I met an intern working for another attorney down the hall while I was making copies. The firm employs eight attorneys, not including the two partners, Preston Brooks and Donald Boulder, and several support staff.
At eleven o’clock, I’m interrupted from typing up a transcription by a delivery man holding an arrangement of sunflowers.
“Are you Marlena?” he drones, clearly bored with his job.
“Yes, can I help you?” I ask, eyeing the cheery bouquet. Those can’t be for me. Flowers aren’t Carly’s style, and I don’t know anybody else who would send me flowers here.
“These are for you.” He sets the flowers down on my desk and leaves without another word while I stare dumbfounded at my new desk accessory.
They are beautiful. Sunflowers are my favorite, but who would know that?
Travis knew that.
Oh God, if he is sending me flowers at work, they are going straight in the trash, doesn’t matter how beautiful they are. I search through the stems and flowers, but I can’t find a note. Why isn’t there a note? My fingers twitch around the vase with indecision about trashing them.
My phone buzzes from my desk drawer, and I use it to distract me from my hesitancy.
Dinner tonight. I’ll pick you up at five. Meet me in the lobby. –E
Holy shit. My fingers shake as I type a reply. How did you get my number?
His reply comes immediately. Your friend was more than eager to share it with me. –E
Arg! Carly! I’m going to strangle her the next time I see her. Her heart is in the right place, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to easily forgive her. He could be a crazy person for all she knew.
I’m busy tonight, I lie.
My hands tremble as I reread our conversation. Blood pulses rapidly through my head, roaring in my ears. No, no no. No! There was a reason I left him at the club Friday night.
Dancing with him was an exception, but it was only to throw Travis off me. If he thought I had moved on, he’d possibly leave me alone. Travis didn’t merely ruin me; he shattered me. And I’ve barely begun to pick up the pieces.
My heart still aches for him. The comfort he brought me when times were good, and the familiarity of our relationship. But I can’t admit that, not to anybody, especially not Elias. Because I should be over Travis after what he did to me.
Walking in on him sinking his dick into that blonde whore should be enough reason for anybody to move on, but it wasn’t enough for me. And if cheating wasn’t enough, the fact he laid his hands on me not once, but twice, should be more than enough reason. But I was lost, lonely, desperate. No family to turn to and a few friends he rarely let me see. Three years with him made me weak. He was controlling, possessive, powerful. I lost myself in his control, and it took all my strength to walk away. I don’t have any strength left to try it all over again. Not yet, anyways.
My phone buzzes with another reply. Did you get my flowers? –E So he ignores my response and tries to change the subject? Two can play that game. I may not admit it to him, but I can’t deny the way my heart flutters reading his text. I’ve never received flowers before. The gesture is… thoughtful. Sweet. Although, Elias doesn’t strike me as a sweet kind of guy.
I tuck my phone back into my desk. He can stew on my lack of response. Maybe he’ll take the hint. Or if he doesn’t, maybe