isn’t until I’m a few feet from the stockpile that what’s blocking the path finally comes into view.
An explosion of flowers, muffin baskets, chocolates, stuffed animals, and balloons spill in all directions. It looks like a freaking floral shop decided to take up residence in our wing. It feels like wet concrete is slowing my stride as I notice that the gift cascade seems to be stemming from my cube. There might as well be a guilty finger pointing right at me from that general vicinity. I’d have a better estimate of the originating source if I could actually see my beloved corner.
Three sectional panels create a rectangular space that I share with Olivia. Those partitions are flimsy on a good day. Now? Our so-called walls are warping toward an imminent collapse. All that separates our stations is a countertop scrap, so what’s hers tends to overflow into mine, especially in this case.
Speaking of my cube mate, Olivia is waiting for me as I approach. She’s tapping her foot on the off chance I miss the exasperation pinching her features. “It’s about time you strolled in. What the hell is all this?”
“Looks like you’ve snagged a new boy to worship you. He’s a winner in the presents department. For your sake, I hope he’s not compensating for something with all this.” I toss out a forced cringe on the last part for her benefit.
This chick’s track record for attracting stage five clingers is embarrassing. No sane man would go to such extreme lengths to please a girl, even by my whimsical standards. I can almost appreciate how this sappy display resembles a romantic comedy clip. Only in the movies would this be considered cute.
“This is all for you.” She waves her arms in a wild circle. Her tone isn’t trying to hide the bitter edge.
A scoff escapes me at her accusation. Last I checked, my prospects were zero. I’m confident that the championship title for worst date ever will be mine soon enough, though. “That’s not possible, but nice try.”
“Think again.” She juts her chin at a balloon that has ‘Savannah’ plastered across the middle.
Well, that answers that.
This couldn’t be more deliberate if Landon smacked me on the ass. His name is smeared across every seemingly thoughtful item. The asshole gets credit for being creative. I didn’t see this coming.
A tiny sliver buried in my lonely heart preens at the sentiment—fake and diabolical though it might be. If only a guy would send me flowers with genuine intentions. Prince Charming won’t come within ten miles of me with a villain of Landon’s caliber circling too close. All I’m left with is a bitter taste in my mouth from this atrocious prank. He’s mocking the system.
Olivia wrinkles her pointy nose at an oversized teddy bear. “You need to clear the aisle immediately. This mess is disrupting our productive environment, not to mention breaking fire code. And I’ll need access to my desk at your earliest convenience. My clients are waiting.”
“Thanks, Captain Obvious.” As if it’s that easy. Where the heck does she expect me to stash this loot? I’ll need an entire storage unit. There must be a local organization willing to accept these as charitable donations. “How about you give me a minute? I literally just walked in the door.”
Talk about a buzzkill.
She cocks her hip. “Not my problem.”
“I didn’t ask for this.” I whip a frantic hand at the disaster that’s occupying our cubicle.
“Actions speak louder than words. You must give mind-blowing head.” Her grin is all taunt.
“Don’t be a twat waffle,” I retort.
“Real mature,” she snips.
“You’re being a hypocrite.” My voice has a cheery lilt that I’m sure is successful in ratcheting her frustration.
On cue, Olivia rolls her eyes. “I’m late for a meeting. This better be gone when I get back. If I were you, I’d get busy finding a scoop shovel. Vince is furious.”
I falter at the mention of our boss. It’s a miracle he hasn’t ripped me a new one yet. “Quit with the third degree. I don’t require an interrogation. It’s not like I’m responsible for sending the stuff to myself.”
But I damn well know who is.
“Whatever.” She huffs and stomps away.
The urge to flip her the bird is hard to resist. I curl my hand into a fist and yank my gaze off her retreating form. More than a few people toss me a stink-eye as they struggle to pass. I wiggle my fingers, encouraging them to move along. The colorful pile redecorating