AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“And why have you brought me wildflowers?”
She steadied herself with a deep breath as she opened the leather portfolio, pulled out her proposal and laid it on his desk, resisting the temptation to take a giant step back. His tan fingers rested on the top page, but he didn’t read it. His gaze stayed fixed on her face.
“You’re courting new clients to sign on with the Pearson Group.”
Not a flicker of emotion, not a single facial tic. The frozen expression, handsome as it was, made her unexpectedly sad. There had been a time when his face had shown her his every thought, from a joyful smile as he’d savored the simple pleasure of a glass of lemonade on a scorching summer’s day to soul-wrenching heartbreak as she’d turned her back on him.
“What led you to that conclusion?”
“Rumor has it that you’re hosting several events in two weeks’ time, events to impress potential clients.” She tapped the paper, making sure their fingers didn’t touch. “I can help you do that.”
“Aside from my curiosity about who would be so indiscreet as to share details of my private affairs, how will your collection of weeds help me convince clients with millions to billions of dollars to invest with the Pearson Group?”
“Flower arrangements at corporate events have been proven to increase guest perception of a space, the event they’re attending and even the host themselves,” she said, her voice firming as she warmed to the topic she’d pursued professionally. “Having fresh flowers can increase attendance, the attention span of your guests and demonstrate that you’re investing in your prospective clients.” She laid a gentle touch on a cluster of pale purple blossoms. “Given that you’ve recently moved here from Los Angeles, including a unique native flower along with the state flower of New York is a subtle but explicit gesture that you care about the small details, that you’re not just moving here to make a quick buck before jetting off to your next destination.”
“And you think the wealthiest of New York’s residents will know the difference between a hyssop and a daffodil?”
“They will with the customized cards I include for events such as these that explain the meaning of the flowers in the arrangements.”
Or they will, if you hire me, she added as she mentally crossed her fingers.
No one had yet given her the chance to make her grandest ideas come to life.
His eyes shifted to where her hand rested, his lips thinning. Her fingers trembled slightly as she removed her hand and let her arms fall to her sides, resisting the urge to cross them over her stomach.
“How long has your shop been open?”
“Six months.”
He snorted. “What can you do that a more established shop can’t?”
She pulled the proposal from beneath his fingers, taking care not to touch him, flipped the page and set it back in front of him. “I offer very competitive rates. I have five years of training with some of the top florists on the East Coast. And, most of all, I don’t do the usual arrangements.”
“Yes, I can see that.”
Whether the words were meant as a compliment or an insult, she had no idea. And she didn’t care, she realized with surprise and a small degree of pride. The arrangement was one of her best ones to date.
“The Flower Bell would be pleased to provide arrangements for your upcoming events, Mr. Santos. My phone number is on the card your secretary provided to you if you have any further questions.”
Grant looked down at the paper and she took the opportunity to turn once more and head for the door. She’d tried and now her five minutes were more than up. He hadn’t called security, hadn’t yelled at her or called her names. Really, she consoled herself, it had gone better than she could have hoped for. At least she’d gotten good practice for the next time she made a pitch to a prospective client.
“Why should I hire you, Miss Waldsworth, after the way our last association ended?”
She nearly tripped over her own feet as her heartbeat stuttered. The question, she had no doubt, had been crafted to inflict as much pain as possible. But it was a fair one. She’d ruined his life once. Not that she had a snowball’s chance in hell of him hiring her regardless, but she couldn’t bear to hurt him again.
She turned and faced him the way she should have all those years ago.
“I’m good at my job, Mr. Santos. My business has excellent reviews. But I understand your concerns given the way things ended between us. If our previous history would impede what you’re trying to accomplish, then I’m not the best choice. Thank you for your time.”
She made it out the door and let it close behind her before he could say anything else. Her feet guided her down the hall, around the corner and to the elevator. Jessica was seated at a black desk, looking up to give a brief nod before resuming a phone call, allowing Alexandra to escape into the elevator.
The doors closed. The car whooshed down. Alexandra collapsed against the wall, keeping her gaze averted from the mirrors surrounding her and the chandelier gently swinging overhead. She bit down on her lower lip, the tiny burst of pain enabling her to keep her sorrow locked in her chest.
Of all the people to agree to hear her pitch, it had to be Grant Santos. The first, and only, man she’d ever given herself to. The one man she’d loved, and who had loved her in turn, until she’d been so weak and allowed her father to ruin their chances at a happily-ever-after.
The man who had fathered her child, a child she’d found out about and lost just weeks after she’d cut Grant from her life.
She scrunched her eyes shut, willed herself to stand straight as the elevator neared the first floor. If she’d entertained any possibilities of Grant booking The Flower Bell, those hopes had been dashed by his razor-sharp query.
