Hey There, Delilah

100 Roses

Song: moody autumn playlist by poeticamente

Ambrose blinked. "What is this?"

Caius' honey hued eyes slid from the bulky man in front of him to the bouquet of flowers he'd just placed on the desk. "Well, it would appear to be a bouquet of one hundred roses, sir."

Ambrose frowned, careful to keep his distance as he took a few steps back from the abomination before him. His skin was already itchy just looking at it and for a moment he swore his eyes were beginning to water.

Who the fuck sends roses to someone that's allergic to roses? he thought bitterly.

"Who sent them?" he asked, rolling his greasy black gloves back on to reduce any chances of the flowers touching his skin. Caius plucked the card from the holder, tilting it so that he could read the golden calligraphy. "Carmichael."

Ambrose sighed, annoyed by the sight of the surname alone as the short woman and her running mouth came to mind. What had it been, two, maybe three days since they last met at the cafe? He couldn't fathom why she'd be sending him flowers. Especially when he so clearly stated that she needed to keep her money to herself.

While Ambrose glared at the offending bouquet, Caius flipped open the card, curious. He scanned the apology, broad nose twitching, causing his wiry, black glasses to shift.

"What does the card say?"

"Miss Carmichael states her regret. She's sorry for insulting your shop and interfering with Cameron." Caius closed the card, setting it down on the desk. A cold breeze tickled the back of his neck as the door to the shop opened. Caius shoved his thin hands into the pockets of his tan trench coat and turned to look at the newcomer.

It was an older man, probably around his uncle's age. He was wearing the same dark overalls as Ambrose except his were tighter around the belly. Beer gut, if Caius had to guess. And he had a salt and pepper beard to match his salt and pepper hair.

Ambrose groaned once he saw John's chapped lipped smirk. He knew what that look meant.

"She's back again, isn't she?"

John nodded eagerly, chuckling at his boss's uncomfortable body language. "Brought the car in complaining about something under the hood needing to be looked at. I've got Timmy looking right now. But we both know that he ain't the one she's looking for and that is not the hood she wants to be looked at."

Ambrose cleared his throat loudly. He yanked his sleeves down to cover his arms as he rounded the desk, careful to keep a healthy distance from the roses. "Alright, John. That's enough. I'll be out in a second."

John nodded, a cheery smile on his aged face. He always found it funny to watch Ambrose dance around the flirty customers. Most were smoking hot women that, if given the chance, John would snap up in a second. He could never understand how Ambrose could so easily turn down such easy and casual sex. A man had needs, after all!

His plain blue eyes finally took notice of Caius. The younger man was unimpressed. Or bored, he couldn't tell with his expressionless face. When Caius checked the time on what looked like an old rolex, John whistled. "Nice watch."

Caius tugged his sleeve lower to cover the silver watch, clocking the flicker of interest in the old man's eyes. "Thanks."

"How much was it?"

Caius shrugged, disinterested and not keen on discussing money. "No clue," he lied. "It's a family heirloom."

One of the Carmichael grandfathers from way way back had a hobby of buying watches and fixing them up. They'd been passed down to the current generation of grandkids. Him and Kiki wore theirs daily. Lilah and Lonnie weren't fans of watches so they rarely wore theirs. Sylvie died before she was old enough to inherit hers.