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“She’s right,” Roxie nodded.

I plucked the note out from where it was nestled in the flowers. It wasn’t the little envelope that normally came with flowers. This was Hallmark card-sized. My name was on it, in nice cursive writing.

I frowned. Graham never wrote in script. He always printed in capital letters. Maybe this was written by the florist. Weird.

I opened the envelope and pulled out a thick ivory note card with silver edges.

I got goosebumps. This wasn’t from Graham. I just knew it.

Hell, I didn’t even want to be touching the damn note. It seemed creepy. I looked up at Roxie and Ava.

“What?” Roxie asked.

“Read it,” Ava practically begged.

I sucked in a deep breath, then read the note.

My beautiful Joy,

From the moment I saw you, I knew you were mine. Fate made you just for me.

I first noticed how your smile shines brighter for me than anyone else.

I saw the way your head tilted toward me as you laughed, like there was no one else in the room.

I watched your eyes follow me when you thought no one else was looking.

You want me almost as much as I want you, even though that is not possible.

You make the blood in my veins boil.

You make me want to sing or fly or destroy anything that threatens to take you away from me.

I will prove myself to you, and when I do, you will know the depth of my love.

Until we are together, believe in me. Believe in us. There is no other choice.

Yours. Always. Forever.

Bile burned the back of my throat. My hands went numb, my breath locked in my chest. The card slipped from my nerveless fingers like it had burned me.

“Who delivered this?” My voice was shaky.

“Some kid from one of the fancy flower shops downtown,” Ava said. “I signed for it, so let me see.” She rifled through some papers on her desk. “Are you saying they aren’t from Graham?”

Roxie picked up the card and scanned it. “You’re right. There isn’t a chance in hell Graham wrote this.”

“Exactly,” I agreed softly. “Ava, can you call the florist and see who bought these?”

“Joy, before I do that, don’t you think you should confirm they’re not from Graham? Has he ever sent you something?” Ava asked. “Maybe his written communication is different than how he speaks.”

“I don’t have to, it was written by a madman,” I mumbled. I was trembling. But she was right. I needed to talk to Graham. I pulled out my phone and pressed in Graham’s number. He answered on the second ring.

“Hi, Doll, thanks for calling. I always like to know that you made it to work okay.” I could hear the warm smile in Graham’s voice.

“Yeah,” I said, as I struggled to keep the quaver out of my voice. “I have to ask you a question.”

“Are you okay?”