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After selecting the flowers, she expertly arranges them on a wooden bench and cuts the stems with precision. She weaves them together to create a stunning bouquet that looks more beautiful than any I’d seen before.
When she's finished, she hands over the flowers with a warm smile. “These are chrysanthemums. The red ones symbolize love,” she explains. “The white ones mean loyalty and devotion.”
I'm stunned by her explanation. My grip on the flowers tightens as I suddenly feel like I have made a mistake. I am not about to profess my love to her—I'm about to proposition her for my personal gain.
If this woman knew my intention behind getting these flowers, I doubt she would still be smiling warmly at me.
“I hope that your lover deeply appreciates them,” she says with a smile.
“Thank you so much.” After paying her and dropping a tip, I leave the flower shop with a heavy heart.
Now that I am parked in front of her apartment, doubts begin to creep into my mind. My grip on the steering wheel tightens as my mind spirals with different worst-case scenarios.
What if she was just joking? What if she throws the flowers in my face, and I end up looking like a fool?
The mere thought of her rejecting me is almost too much to bear. I am not a coward. I'm not going to back out now that I'm already here. Whatever happens, I will know I tried my best.
I take a few deep breaths and leave my car. As I enter the elevator, my mind rehearses the right words I will say to her. Hi Gianna, does your offer still stand? Hi, Gianna, I brought you flowers. Can I kiss you?
Fuck. Everything seems so pathetic.
Frustration creeps up on me as I struggle to find the right combination of words that will adequately convey my intention without sounding like a jerk.
As soon as the elevator opens, my nerves have grown more frayed. I step out and take a deep breath.
Chris, what's wrong with you? Why are you acting like a teenager asking his crush to prom? This is just a simple adult proposal, nothing else. Act like the man you are.
With a newfound confidence, I press the doorbell twice before the door opens.
My mouth goes agape as I stare at the beautiful woman in front of me.
She's wearing a red satin night robe which barely reaches the top of her knee. Her hair is packed up in a messy bun, and her eyes are adorned with reading glasses. She looks so cute and sexy at the same time. I almost forgot what I was here for.
“What are you doing here?” she asks, frowning.
There's no malice in her voice, just surprise.
“Uhm, I—” Damn it. Everything I rehearsed has gone down the drain, and I, Chris White, am speechless before a woman.
All I have to do is snap a finger and pick one, but now it's different. I've gone through the trouble of getting flowers just because I want to get in her pants one more time. I'm so pathetic. I’ve gotten rusty.
Her eyes fall on the flowers in my hand, and her frown deepens. I recover myself.
“I, um, got you flowers,” I stammer.
She gives me an incredulous look and adjusts her glasses. “Why?”
“I wanted to apologize for my behavior last night.”
“You didn't have to get me flowers to apologize, but I appreciate it. Come in.”
She takes the flowers from me and opens the door widely for me to enter. I quickly recover from the shock of her acceptance and step in, catching a whiff of her strawberry shampoo.
“Please have a seat.” She points to a sofa in the living room. The same sofa we made out on several days ago. I wonder if she remembers.
“Can I get you anything?” she asks.
She's being strangely warm and welcoming. If she was rude and impossible, I would know how to handle her, but I don't know how to handle this warm Gianna.
