Chapter 7 - The Love Language of Gifts

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Kara's eyes widen as a doughnut on a napkin is slid onto her desk. "Is that a chocolate creme filled?" Without asking for an answer, she picks it up and chomps down, sighing happily. Powdered sugar coats her lips and sprinkles down like a light winter snow. "Amazing. These were not in the break room this morning. I looked. Where did you find this?" She stares across the desk at Nia, eyes big, blue, and enamored (with the doughnut, no doubt).

"Oh, Ken brought it for me, so I thought I'd pass it along to my mentor extraordinaire." Nia waves to a man across the office who smiles back at her and waves. "You like?"

"I love. I want to date this doughnut, marry it, and have little doughnut holes with it." Kara chomps down again, taking another big bite. "Mmmm but I think I'll just eat it instead. Not that I'm complaining, but why is grumpy Ken bringing you food? Is it blackmail? Are you blackmailing him? Normally, I'd be against something like that, but if it involves doughnuts..." Kara takes another bite and then stares at the remaining half a doughnut. "Seriously, this isn't a blackmail doughnut, is it? I didn't know blackmail could taste so good."

Nia chuckles as she leans back in her chair. "It's not a blackmail doughnut. Think of it as a love doughnut."

"Nia, all doughnuts are love doughnuts. Doughnuts are love."

"Right, my bad. I only meant that I helped Ken with a girl problem he was having, and this is how he's showing his appreciation. There are five love languages: words of affirmation, acts of service, gift giving, quality time, and physical touch. Sometimes your way of expressing love can be more than one of those, like the way you're very physical and also affirming with your words. It's how you show love. But if you show love to someone who has a different love language, say gift giving, they may not hear what you're saying."

"Huh." Kara takes another bite of her doughnut and chews, a thoughtful look on her face. "That's really interesting. What's your love language?"

"Oh, I'm a words of affirmation person. When someone I care talks, I listen, and I use my words to show them that I care for them. I think it's one of the things that drew me to journalism. Words have power."

Kara reaches out, fluffing the feather sitting in the inkwell. "Yeah, the pen is mightier than the sword... unless the other guy has a knife and is coming at you, then I'd probably rather have a sword."

"Probably a good call."

"So what's Querl's love language?"

Smile growing, Nia watches as a courier with a large display of flowers talks to the receptionist, Eve, and is pointed in her direction. "Gift giving."

The flowers end up being so big that they have to get a little folding table and set it up next to Nia's desk to hold them. They're an impressive display in shades of blue that garner attention from every corner of the office. There are irises, delphiniums, clematises, bellflowers, and even some passion flowers. They're shades of Nia's signature color, and even as she bites her lower lip, she can't keep the smile off her face.

"Golly, they sure are big," Kara says as she pulls the card off and hands it over to Nia.

"'Nia, my love, beautiful flowers for a beautiful lady. Love, Querl.' Well, it's not exactly Wordsworth, but he's sweet." Nia slides the card into a desk drawer, away but not forgotten. "I will talk to him about the size of these though. This is a little... much. I don't need to get on Miss Grant's bad side. She already thinks my name is Mia."

"She still thinks my name is Kiera, and I've worked here for three years." Kara shrugs. "I see it as a perk. She can't fire me because she can't put my name on the paperwork."

"Ah, you're always thinking."

Kara taps at her own temple and nods.

"I'm just going to send Querl a text to tell him I got the flowers and that I'm thinking of him." Nia pulls out her phone, writing up a sweet little message that includes a poem and thanking him for the flowers. "There. Damn, he was so incredible last night."

"Really?" Kara's eyebrows rise high above her tortoiseshell frames. "He seems really geeky, but good for you two."

"Not that... Well, yes that. Don't ever think smart isn't sexy, Kara. Smart people are attentive, creative, and caring sexual partners, and Querl is a genius. If you want to find an amazing lover, find someone holding a book, but that isn't what I meant. Last night I brought home take out. He cleaned up from dinner, got me dessert while I relaxed on the couch, then rubbed my aching feet. I swear, that foot rub was better than some sex that I've had."

"Golly."

"Mhmmm. I fell asleep watching TV, and he carried me to bed. I woke up with him tucking me in."

"Awww. That sounds so sweet." Kara puts her elbow on the desk and rests her chin on the palm of her hand as she smiles at Nia. "It sounds like you two are living the dream. I'm a little envious."

"It's not all chocolate and giant flower displays, but yeah, it's pretty good. You know what's funny?"

"What?"

"For the longest time, we were just like you and Lena?"

Kara blinks, sitting upright again, and Nia can practically see the wheels spinning in the other woman's head, but as usual, only smoke comes of it. "Single?"

"Okay, true, but I meant we were a reporter and a scientist, best friends who went out to eat together, stayed in on friend dates, did family things together, everyone thought we were dating because we acted like it."

"Wow, that's a crazy coincidence," Kara says. "It sounds like you two actually were dating but hadn't figured it out yet."

It's only by sheer force of supernatural will that Nia doesn't stand up and smack Kara upside the head. Insted, she plasters a smile on her face and allows patience to persist. "Yes, exactly. We were clueless idiots who needed our friends to grab us by the shoulders and tell us to wake up and smell the hottie. What do you think about that?"

"What do I think?" Kara bites her lower lip and nods. "I think it sounds like you two had good friends. It sounds like you needed an intervention. I'm happy for you both."

Nia goes from holding her breath in anticipation to visibly deflating as she sighs. "Look, Kara—"

"Ponytail!"

"Uh-oh." Kara slowly rises as Snapper's voice echoes across the pressroom. "Yes, Sir?"

Snapper is the sort of man who looks like he's overdue to have a boil lanced on his ass. His face is frozen in a permanent sneer, and everything he says is a demand. "Tell me you know what an Oxford comma is."

"Uh... a comma that's... British?"

He growls, an actual growl that makes reporters in a twenty foot radius sink down in their chairs. "Get your skinny butt in here. I've got my red pen out." Snapper brandishes a pen above his head in case anyone wonders if that's hyperbole.

"Not the red pen," Kara whispers and grabs a notebook and pen before slinking toward his office, all eyes on her: dead reporter walking.

"Poor, clueless, little puppy," Nia says. Her gaze settles on the flower arrangement by her desk, and a sigh escapes her lips. She doesn't even notice how long she's staring or the winsome smile on her face. Cluelessness is in the air.

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