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Mara sees it at the same time I do. “Oooh. Secret admirer?” she squeals.
“I don’t know.”
I move closer, curious. It can’t be from David. He wouldn’t send me more flowers, would he? The only other option, the one that makes my pulse quicken, is Caleb.
Maybe he feels terrible for how he treated me, and this is his way of apologizing.
I look over at Vicki. “Did you see who delivered this?”
She’s still typing up a storm, without pause. “I got here at seven. No one delivered anything while I was here.”
I lift the cover, expecting a gorgeous display, but instead, there’s just a pile of petals and flower pieces, wilted black.
Cut to shreds.
I recoil, chilled.
“How romantic,” Mara remarks, looking over my shoulder. “Who sent them to you?”
I shiver goes down my back as I root around for a card. But there isn’t one. I wrack my brain over who could have sent me such a grotesque gift. “Do you… Do you think it’s David?” I ask. He’s the only guy I’ve kind of broken up with recently.
Mara shakes her head. “He doesn’t seem like the type to go all Fatal Attraction on a girl.”
“No, you’re right,” I say. David’s too level-headed to do something so sick.
“Maybe someone delivered them last week, and they wilted?” she suggests.
I lift a handful of petals out. No. It’s angry, vile, more like someone slashed them. A threat.
I quickly slam the cover back on and toss it in the garbage. “Probably just a mix-up at the florist!” I say brightly, pretending I’m not rattled by the gift. “Or Olivia meant to send them to Caleb.”
Mara laughs. “That seems more likely. See you later!”
She heads out, and I turn to my computer, but I can’t help shooting glances at the roses in the trash. A name lingering in my head.
Nero Barretti.
Isn’t this the way the mafia operates? I don’t know why he would be sending me gifts like this. What’s his point? Is he scaring me so that I convince Caleb to cooperate?
Is this a warning, somehow?
Whatever it is, it needs to end. I have no control over Caleb. I hold no sway over what he does or doesn’t do. Threatening me is worthless.
He’s made it clear that he doesn’t care what happens to me.
I haven’t even settledin to work when the man himself comes striding in.
He immediately barks orders, sending Vicki scurrying, and he turns his attention to me.
I don’t look. Can’t look. Instead, I stare straight at my computer, even though it’s still booting. But I can feel his gaze on me.
“Juliet.”
Reluctantly, I swing my head toward him. As usual, all the air leaves my lungs and I’m caught breathless, just from the sight of his annoyingly perfect face.
He hooks a finger, steely. “Come here.”
Then he disappears into his office.
