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“Delivery for a Miss Atticus Finch.”
We all turn to the front door to find a man holding a gigantic bouquet of red roses.
“Wait, those are for Addy? Are you sure?” Rebecca gets up and sashays toward the man. “There’s no way she got flowers. No one even acknowledges her. Probably a mistake. Let me see the card.”
She tries to grab for it, but the delivery man pulls back. “Sorry, I was instructed to give these directly to an Atticus Finch.”
“I—I’m Atticus Finch, well…Addy.” My cheeks flush.
“Here ya go.” Walking over, he hands them to me, then leaves. They weigh a ton. There has to be a few dozen in the bouquet.
“Okay, Addy. Now we’re all on the edge of our seats. Who are the flowers from?”
“I’m going with Grandma,” Bill blurts out.
“I’m going with she sent them to herself,” Rebecca says, getting a good laugh out of the other two.
Justin clicks his tongue, rubbing his chin. “I don’t know. I think they’re from her boy toy from last night. Those two were quite chummy. If I’m not mistaken, our Addy here may be taking a page out of Rebecca’s book.”
Rebecca scoffs and throws her pen at Justin. “Yeah, right. No one would go for that,” she says, flinging her hand in my direction.
My shoulders droop at her direct insult. I’m used to them poking fun at me, how I’m not socially outgoing or dazzling in brand names and perfect makeup like Rebecca. I can barely have a normal conversation without putting my foot in my mouth and embarrassing myself. I set the flowers on my desk and straighten my posture on my ball.
“If you don’t mind, I have work to do.” Just as I reopen my laptop, Rebecca dashes forward and snags the card from the flowers. “Hey! Give that back!”
“No way. We’re solving this mystery.” She opens the small envelope, and my heart slams against my ribcage. I have no idea who they’re from, but it’s not my dead grandmother, and I’m too poor to send myself lunch, let alone what looks like half the city’s rose supply.
Addy,
Sorry I couldn’t stay last night and finish devouring every inch of you. Let me make it up to you. Lunch? It’s the least I can do as your boyfriend.
PS: Sorry about ripping your dress off. I just couldn’t help myself.
Logan
Four jaws drag along the floor by the time Rebecca finishes reading the card. Mine included. How did he get into my place? How bad did he rip the dress? Will Macy’s believe me when I say it came that way? Bad stitching—
“No way. You wrote this.” Rebecca tosses the card at me and throws her head back, expelling a screeching laugh. “Nice try, Addy. Pathetic if you ask me. Sending yourself flowers and pretending you have a boyfriend? Please. Give me a—”
“Excuse me.”
We all turn to the door.
All eyes widen at the gigantic piece of man meat standing in the doorway.
“Holy shit, who is that?” Rebecca whispers, frozen at the sight. I’m just as frozen, but my reasoning is because I think he might be here to finish me off to stay quiet. “Well, hello there. Are you here to see me? I’m Rebecca Haines. Why don’t we go into the conference—”
“Here for Addy,” Logan Justice says, his searing eyes, a mix of sex appeal and trouble, claiming hold of mine.
Rebecca’s mouth falls open as she turns toward me. Logan doesn’t skip a beat and walks in as if he’s done it a million times, stopping in front of me.
“Baby, you ready to go?”
Is anyone ever ready to walk to their own death? Probably not. “Um…I really have some work to do here—okay!” I change routes as he scoops me up. Rebecca’s mouth is still hanging open as Logan bends forward and latches his lips to mine, giving me an Oscar-worthy kiss for our viewers. When he finally pulls away, I sway on my feet and don’t feel as bad about my pending doom.
“You ready now?” he murmurs into my ear.
Who can say no to a death warrant when their Grim Reaper looks and kisses like that? “Lead the way, honey boo.” Okay, I’m walking straight to death’s door, and I still can’t be smooth?
Logan chuckles and plants my feet back on the ground. He snatches my hand and shoulder-bumps Justin out of the way. “Let your boss know she’s taking a long lunch.”
I turn back as Logan drags me out of the office. Bill nods. Justin nods. Rebecca still looks broken, her mouth catching flies. Which, may I add, is not the best look on her.
As Logan pushes open the glass door, the summer heat hits me, and reality sets back in. I tug at my arm, but Logan doesn’t release me. “Where are we going? I told you I won’t say anything. You didn’t have to send me those flowers. They had to cost you a fortune. I can pay you back…it might be a while…’cause…well, I’m broke—and did you have to tear my dress? I was planning on—”
