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I stare at the flowers, overwhelmed. No one has ever sent me flowers before. Well, that's not true. Veronica sends me flowers on my birthday every year. But these are…wow. Bright pink and purple lilies, carnations, and roses mix with white sinuata statice, leatherleaf fern, and lemon leaf in a stunning display. A small card nestles between the blooms. Like Mallory said, my name is scrawled across the front.
I pluck it from the arrangement with shaking hands and tear open the envelope.
Jamie,
I'm the world's biggest asshole. I'm sorry.
-J
Jonas Michaud sent me flowers to apologize. For what? Kissing me? Calling me his enemy? My mind spins through the possibilities. And then I see his phone number scrawled across the bottom of the card.
I hesitate for a split second before I grab my phone and type it in. And then I hesitate again, not sure what to text him or if he even put his number there for me to use. Maybe it's there for the flower shop in case they have questions?
Screw it.
Me: Thank you for the flowers. They're beautiful.
His reply comes so quickly I nearly jump out of my seat.
Jonas: They don't even compare to you in that dress last night, angel.
Jonas: Can I call you?
Me: I'm at work.
Jonas: When do you get off?
I glance at the clock on my computer, checking the time. It's only two in the afternoon. This day is dragging by…mostly because I've been avoiding the arena all dang day. I put in anappearance outside of Theo's house earlier in the morning, but I didn't stick around long. It was a madhouse out there. And I've been following the Predators for long enough to know that Theo Kline isn't going to stroll out and have a chat with the paparazzi lined up outside his gates. They're wasting their time.
Besides, Kelsey Lane, the team publicist, and Camila Gomes, Theo's personal publicist, released statements this morning about the photos. And I now know for sure that the woman in them is Charlotte. They didn't release her name, but the statements called her the love of Theo's life. All I had to do was look up her social media to confirm she's the same girl from the photos.
The race is officially on to find her name, and so far, I'm the only one who seems to know it. I can't sit on it forever. If someone releases it before I do, Darren will lose his mind, and I lose my job. But I'm sitting on it anyway. Because I know the second I release it, I prove to Jonas that he was right about me all along. Iamthe enemy.
Jonas: Jamie?
Me: I get off at five.
Jonas: Have dinner with me.
Jonas: Please.
Me: Um, are you sure that's a good idea?
Jonas: I think it's the best idea I've had since I kissed you last night.
Me: I don't know about that. The flowers are beautiful…
Jonas: I want to apologize in person. Please?
Me: What are you apologizing for, exactly?
Jonas: Calling you the enemy. It was a shitty thing to say. I want to make it up to you.
My stomach clenches. He isn't sending me flowers and inviting me to dinner because he feels the same way I do abouthim. Of course he doesn't. To him, I'll always be the annoying reporter who dishes on gossip and asks too many questions. He's trying to smooth it over so I don't tell the world he was in a sex club last night.
Me: It's fine, really. Thanks for the invitation and the flowers, but I don't think dinner is a good idea.
Me: And don't worry. Your secret is safe with me. You can relax.
