Murderous Intent

8. Hand-Me-Down

Any decent person would have made their way downstairs to formally thank the individual who went out of their way to give them a dozen roses with a semi-romantic card attached to the vase it came in. They would hug, probably kiss, maybe even do more with the person to show their gratitude like take them out to dinner, go out for coffee or even pull down their pants...

Not I.

I ignored Bryan, his Alpha male douchebag antics and continued working.

Deena called out to me, her voice getting lower each time as realization that I wasn't going to acknowledge her until she got the hint, shared the hint with the bigheaded prick downstairs then, finally, came back up with a different topic up for discussion. I stopped typing to watch her click clack her way out of my office. I didn't want to be rude to Deena, she's one of my favorite workers and a hard working secretary, but she made light of the situation when, in reality, the moves Bryan were making behind my back was intimidating. He had approached Joseph, inconspicuously, then staked his claim like I was some dog he's readying to put on a leash, knowing how I felt towards the man in which he spoke to then sent me roses.

Now, I don't regret ghosting him after dinner all those months ago.

On the other hand, it's my fault for leading him on and then to his bed. It probably confused him and I'll take ownership and blame for that confusion. Hopefully Deena letting him know that I threw away the roses she quickly plucked from the trash for her desk will make him understand since me ignoring his calls and texts didn't give an obvious message.

"Tulips and white roses?" I had taken out my headphones, smiling at the bouquet on the kitchen counter, the small box of chocolate covered berries to eat right next to it. "What's the occasion?" I smiled at my mom.

There was hesitation on her small face, brown eyes weary on the decorative addition and fruit added to our kitchen. There was no card or invitation to a party attached to it, my mind wondering to it possibly being sent here from my grandmother in Ukraine. She loved sending my mom, her daughter, flowers for her birthday.

Her birthday isn't for another 2 months...

I frowned.

"Your dad..." I was so tempted to place my earbuds back in and hop back into my car to head back to school after those words alone. Despite the silliness that was going to be her explanation as to why the flowers and berries are here, I didn't do just that because I respected my mother. She always listened to me and my ridiculous rants about pointless things such as One Direction splitting up that I could at least hear her out.

"He wanted to apologize," her eyes was shining as she said that. The darkness of her eyes were reflecting the lights of our kitchen, she looked so happy and hopeful. "He wanted to apologize for his actions and take me out."

I knew it was too good to be true when dad had a limo come pick mom up and take her to a restaurant across town. A limo. Driving through the narrow streets of New York where the pedestrians hardly care if you are driving and will walk right in front of you without warning in hopes that you are rich and will pay for their hospital bills and rent for the next year. He had gotten Jared, his limo driver, to take her to a nice restaurant in Manhattan.