Flower Girl | h.s.

55.

June 25th.

Harry

"We're going to take a closer look at the sales margins for those specific titles next week, but we're just going to close out this meeting for today since it's Friday and I know that a lot of you want to get out of here. So, have a good weekend, everyone! Enjoy the weather."

I shut the notebook that sat on the long conference table in front of me. The shuffling of the chairs and people filing out of the room was quick as I became a part of the masses trying to get out of the office on a Friday afternoon.

"Hey, Harry," My head turns towards a woman's voice next to me as I tuck my notebook under my arm and my coffee in my good hand.

The woman speaking is named Carrie, and her desk sat close to mine. Her eyes were deep brown, her hair was solidly blonde, and her blazer sat correctly on her shape as she presented a smile to me. The room had started to file out, and her presence was allowing us to stand there a moment longer.

Carrie had been really kind to me since I had started; we usually chatted about the LA traffic and the weather, nothing extravagant because I didn't really have anything to contribute to conversation most of the time. If I were to guess, I'd say that she was a year or so younger than me—possibly my age, like many of the people in the office.

I had started quite nervous here at Canyon Moon Publishing, and while I usually found it easy to be charismatic to people, this job was teaching me that I wasn't very good at some things right off the bat, and that was hard to accept. I didn't know what I was doing, and I was figuring it out.

But Carrie was always kind to me and didn't have a problem showing me what I needed to do if I was confused or didn't know how to answer an email.

"Hey," I responded back. It caught me off guard, but I gave her a smile back.

She clicked her tongue, looking out at the office that was divided by the large glass window from the conference room space that we used for our weekly meetings.

"I was just asking—you can totally say no," She started, "But a group of us are going to happy hour and some dinner tonight, and I wanted to know if you would like to come along. I thought maybe, you know," She shrugged, clearing her throat, "We don't really get to all see each other too often since we don't always work in the office, so I thought we could get to know each other and catch up. Maybe we could drive together or something. To make it easier."

The way that she looked at me was a look that I felt uneasy about. Mostly because I didn't want to give her the wrong impression, but also because I hated the idea of letting someone down.

"Oh," I made a comment, clearing my throat as I thought about the invitation.

I loved going home after work, because I loved going home to seeing Daisy making dinner and spending her evenings the way that she wanted. She had been excruciatingly beautiful recently, her hair had gotten a bit longer, her skin had started to bronze in the sun that she sat in during the day.

The freckles on her nose were immaculate, and the daydreams I had about her when I sat at my desk were unreasonable.

The way that her and Phoebe had grown their relationship and mended it by spending so much time together only made me happier, too. Watching her evolve her relationships and grow into them was mesmerizing. She brought out the best in all of us, and I could see that the best of her was being shown to us now too.

I was excited to spend the weekend with her; I was excited to share watching others solidify their love with the love of my life next to me.

I had been so blinded by her love—it felt weakening.