by Abbi Glines
Nan stepped around me, then glanced back at the flowers in my hand and took them. She held them up and smirked. “These are a weak and cliché way to smooth things over. Next time you attempt to play with a woman’s heart, try the big-boy approach, and don’t spend your money on silly flowers that mean nothing. Jesus, what did I ever really see beyond your pretty face?” With that final insult, she tossed the flowers onto the ground and went into the house.
When the door clicked closed behind her, I stood there, unsure what to do next. That hadn’t been what I’d expected. I’d thought she’d yell or cry. I figured the roses weren’t enough, but maybe they would soften her up so I could talk to her. But she’d left me speechless. I had no words to respond to the hateful things she’d said to me. That side of Nan I had never seen. I’d heard about it but never witnessed it.
My chest felt hollow, and yet there was a sharp pain where she’d shot me right there in the center of it. No woman had ever spoken to me that way. But then again, I’d never met a woman like Nan before. I reached down to the pebbled ground to pick up the roses she’d tossed aside so heartlessly.
If she weren’t a job, I could walk away and forget her. I didn’t have to take this abuse. I didn’t have to let her hurt me. But she was a job. She had begun as a job, and she would finish as a job. I couldn’t let my feelings for Nan cloud my vision right now.
Nan
I wasn’t going to sit and sulk in front of the TV any longer. Binge-watching One Tree Hill on Netflix all day yesterday was enough. Today I would need to run off all the popcorn, string cheese, and peanut butter crackers I’d eaten since my run-in with Major. Then I was going to see if I could take Nate to the park. Both things would help get my mind off Gannon and my pathetic existence.
Dressed in spandex shorts and a Lululemon sports bra, I headed out to the beach to run until my legs no longer worked. I wasn’t as tight and muscular as I wanted to be. But when a girl liked her peanut butter crackers and milk as a bedtime snack, it was hard not to have little soft areas on her body. My new goal was to fix that. I might not be perfect, but I’d damn well try my hardest.
Major
He didn’t call me. He never called me. He just showed the fuck up when I didn’t want to see him. Which was always.
“She’s been home for three days, and you still haven’t made any progress. Did you seriously think roses would fucking win Nan over? This isn’t a damn romance novel. Goddammit, man, think.”
I took a drag off the cigarette in my hand before looking up at the man standing in front of me. He was beyond annoyed. He was pissed as hell, and I was about to be out of a job. Maybe I needed to be out of this job. Maybe this shit wasn’t for me.
“Women love roses,” I replied, wondering if this was true or if he was right and that sort of gesture only worked in romance novels and movies and shit.
“Women fucking pretend they like flowers. Men like the idea that they can please them by buying them something so damn easy. But women are complicated as fuck. They don’t want flowers. They want thought. They want sacrifice. They want to own you. They don’t fucking want flowers that’ll just rot and die in a few days.”
This guy got Nan to fall for him, and he thought that made him the damn Einstein of women. What the fuck ever.
“Here, take these.” He handed me six envelopes, each a different color: blue, purple, pink, cream, mint, and yellow. “When I text you, you’ll go to where I tell you and give her the color envelope I instruct. Then just walk away. Don’t try to talk to her. Don’t try to charm her with your idiotic looks. She’s over it.”
He turned to leave, and I looked down at the envelopes. “What’s in them?” I asked, confused but ready to try anything.
He paused. “A man’s apology.”
Then he left.
Five minutes later, I got the text.
Walk to the beach in front of your apartment complex. When you see her, give her the pink envelope.
Nan
I hadn’t been paying attention to my surroundings, or I would have seen him and turned around. The music playing in my ears was drowning out the world, and I’d been focused on pushing myself one more mile. This was the sixth mile, but I intended to run ten today just to numb myself.
But he was there in front of me, on the beach, right in my path. I had to come to a stop or run over him. There was a good chance he’d chase after me anyway, and I’d rather remind him one more time that I wanted him out of my life.
I was pulling out my wireless Beats earbuds when I realized he was holding out a pink envelope. I reached for it. Once I had the smooth, heavy stationery between my fingertips, he let go and walked away without a word. What the hell? I looked down at the envelope and then back up at him as he walked up the path toward the street.
I could keep on running and toss it onto the ground, or I could read it and then toss it into the ocean for him to witness. I decided I liked the idea of tossing it into the water. Opening the envelope, I saw an equally nice piece of cream-colored stationery with a handwritten note.
Moderate fitness minus excess. One of the things that makes you beautiful.
That was it. Nothing more. I reread it to make sure I understood, then frowned and glanced up to see if he was watching me. He wasn’t. I was confused by it and decided to hold on to it until I understood what he was trying to say.
The next day, when I opened my eyes, I saw the pink envelope with the strange note from Major inside it lying beside me on the nightstand. I’d read it over and over again last night, completely confused. He hadn’t texted or called. Nothing. He’d just given me that note.
I wasn’t going to think about it any more today. I didn’t want to waste my time on something that had to do with Major. He wasn’t important in my life any longer. His strange note was meant to make me think about him. Smart move, but I wasn’t buying into it.
Major
She didn’t call or text. I had watched her from the shadows, and she had looked confused before putting the note back in the envelope and turning to run back the way she had come. I had hoped whatever it said would send her to my doorstep, but it hadn’t. It hadn’t helped at all. Whatever “man’s apology” Cope had come up with sucked.
My phone buzzed, and I glanced down to see a message from Cope.
She’s at the clubhouse having lunch. Watch her until she licks her lips as she speaks. She does it often. Won’t take long. Then walk over and hand her the purple envelope. No words. Just leave.
Another weird, random command. But he was my boss, and Nan wasn’t speaking to me, so I was willing to do whatever he said. That or admit defeat. I wasn’t sure DeCarlo would just let me go free now that I knew so much. I had to finish this.
I pulled my truck into the club parking lot and passed the valet to self-park. I wasn’t exactly dressed for the place, but I was Mase Colt-Manning’s cousin, so they let me in. That, and I’d fucked most of the waitresses.
Nan
Knox was passing through, which meant she was visiting her elderly grandparents to remind them that she was their only grandchild and adored them. I was sure this had everything to do with her inheritance. When she’d called to suggest we do lunch, I had wanted to decline the offer, but she was a distraction, and I needed them. Lots of them.
So here I was, sitting in the club, listening to her chatter on about her fun-filled wonderful future, and pretending I gave a shit. I smiled when she asked questions and tried to answer them in a way that didn’t make her more curious. Telling her that I was positive I’d spend the remainder of my day watching Gossip Girl didn’t sound like a good idea.
After answering her last question, I glanced up to see someone coming toward me and thought it was the waitress. I was hoping so, because I needed another mint julep. Instead, it was Major, and Knox’s sudden silence confirmed that she’d spotted him, too. He looked like he had just walked off the pages of GQ. He stopped in front of me and held out his hand, this time with a purple env
elope. I took it. I was curious, of course, and refusing it would cause a scene. I forced a smile and started to say thank you, like I’d been expecting it and knew what it was, but he turned and walked away before I could.
“Who. Was. That?” Knox asked in awe.
I didn’t feel like explaining, so I shrugged. “No one important.”
Once I had dodged her questions concerning Major, she finally went back to babbling about herself. I noticed her eyes going to the purple envelope often, and I wanted to cram it into my purse several times in hopes that she’d forget it.
When I was finally back in my car, safe from the eyes and ears of nosy-ass people, I opened the envelope to find another handwritten note on the same stationery.
The tip of your tongue across your lip. A sweep, not a lick. One of the things that make you beautiful.
That was it. All it said. My tongue instantly went to my lips in habit, and I froze, wondering if that was what he was talking about. If so, why? What was his purpose?
The purple envelope now joined the pink one on my nightstand. I’d reread both before going to bed last night. I slipped on the heels I was wearing to Blaire’s baby shower at the Carters’ house. Hanging out at my ex’s house with his perfect little wife who was also my half sister wasn’t my idea of fun. But it was for Rush. I was going.
I had no doubt I’d love this child as much as Nate when she got here. The gift, which I had wrapped in pink paper with a satin sheen, wasn’t all I planned on giving my niece. But this would be her first present from me. Turning from the envelopes, I picked up the gift and glanced at myself in the full-length mirror.
My dress was simple, and the cream fabric hugged my skin. It made me appear confident and sure of myself. Something I definitely was not. My clothes, however, would lie for me. I’d learned that trick from a young age.
Major
Mase pulled up beside me just as I was climbing into my truck. I had thought he and Reese were back in Texas. They didn’t normally stay here for long periods of time. He had a ranch to run and horses to train.
“What are you still here for?” I asked, glad to see him.
“Baby shower, remember? Rush and Blaire’s. Harlow is hosting it, and I had to clear out. Figured I’d come see you.”
An afternoon spent with Mase talking about anything but my damn job sounded good. “Want to go get a beer?” I asked.
He nodded. “Yup. All that damn estrogen in the house has me in knots. Had to talk to Nan. She always makes me tense. Never know when that bitch is gonna blow. You still smoking cancer sticks over her crazy ass?”
I didn’t want to talk about Nan, but I also didn’t want anyone talking about her. Not like that. “She’s not a bitch, and she’s not crazy,” I said, slamming my truck door a little too hard.
Mase shrugged. “Whatever. You can be hot for her, but she’s still a mean-ass woman who drove you to smoke.”
“She’s misunderstood. I drove myself to smoke. I made mistakes, and I was stressed. I’m done with the smoking, so let that go, would ya?”
Mase grunted and motioned for me to get into his truck. “Let’s go get a beer and discuss shit that isn’t Nan-related.”
I’d started to open his truck door when my phone buzzed.
She’s at Harlow Carter’s house. Give her the cream envelope.
Cope wanted me to bust up in a baby shower full of women and give Nan another fucking weird envelope? Shit.
I debated for a second before giving in and reaching into my truck to grab the cream envelope I had in my glove compartment.
“What’s that?” Mase asked when I climbed into his truck.
“I need to drop something off at your sister’s place . . . for your other sister. Let’s stop there first.”
“What?” he asked, looking at me like I was insane.
“Just do it. Please. Won’t take me but a second.”
Mase shook his head and started up his engine before heading to the Carters’ house where I’d find Nan.
Nan
“That dress is fantastic,” Bethy said as she came up beside me.
Bethy was Blaire’s best friend. We had never been buds, but lately she’d gone out of her way to speak to me in passing. She had once been the cart girl at the country club, and now she was married to the owner of the only five-star hotel in Rosemary Beach. They had built it together. Again, another nauseating love story I’d never experience.
“Thanks. It’s from Milan,” I replied, knowing that would impress her, even though the truth behind it was that my mother had bought it for me three weeks after my birthday this year because she forgot my actual birthday while in Italy.
“It looks like it,” Bethy replied. “I’m impressed that you’re here. I know you love Nate, and your relationship with Blaire has gotten better lately, but I honestly didn’t expect you to come.”
How was I supposed to respond to that? I had to come. This was for Rush’s baby. Did they all not want me here? Did my RSVP cause problems for Harlow?
“Don’t get me wrong. Blaire was pleased that you were coming. Harlow even said more than once how happy she was that you were coming,” Bethy quickly followed up.
I nodded, unsure what to say, and the front door opened. In walked Mase Colt-Manning and Major. My stomach sank. Not what I had been expecting.
“Mase, what are you doing back here? I told you when it’s over, you can come back with Rush and Grant and eat all the leftovers.” Harlow playfully scolded the brother we shared. A brother who adored her and hated me. I looked away from both of them and stared out the window, hoping that I looked bored with life in general.
“We’re leaving, just needed to drop something off first,” he replied. I glanced over out of curiosity to see what they were dropping off, and my eyes collided with Major’s. He was approaching me, and in his hand was a cream-colored envelope. I stared down at it until he lifted his hand and held it out toward me.
I quickly took it and turned my attention back to the waves outside without saying a word to him. Every eye in the room was on me. As much as that made me uncomfortable, what I really wanted to do was open the envelope and see what strange thing he had written this time.
“That’ll be all. You ladies have fun now.” Major’s voice filled the room. Several called out good-byes and “We will, don’t worry.”
I just stared down at my envelope.
Later, when I found a moment to excuse myself and use the restroom, I pulled out the envelope I had tucked away in my purse. Surprisingly, no one had asked me about it. I got curious glances but nothing more. Sliding the familiar stationery out of the thick envelope, I read the words.
Tight clothes in all the right places. Another thing that makes you beautiful.
That was all it said.
Three envelopes, three messages, one of them insulting. Or so I thought. I wasn’t sure just yet. He could have mentioned my personality or my ability to make him laugh or my big heart. Snarling at that thought, I realized I was thinking about how Rush thought of Blaire. Not how someone thought of me. When someone thought of me, he thought of tight clothing, not big hearts.
I tossed my purse onto the bed, changed out of the clothes I’d worn to the market, and put on my pajama bottoms and a tank top. It was time for some Netflix and popcorn. I’d run later. I wasn’t in the mood to burn calories right now. I needed to sulk. I might even add some chocolates to the popcorn. I’d need to do a ten-mile hike later, but it would be worth it.
If I didn’t have to think about these damn letters and my lack of qualities to make me beautiful, then I’d be fine. I’d bet he wouldn’t like me in tight clothing if I gained ten pounds. I might eat myself fat. That would be a fun distraction. Maybe then I’d find a man who loved me for me. Not some stupid pretty boy who liked my tight clothing. Asshole.
Major
Three days, three envelopes later, and nothing. Not one damn thing. She wasn’t texting, calling, or hunting me down. Cope had no fucki
ng clue how to hook a woman. I knew this better than anyone. I was the master manipulator. Why did he think he could send me on this ridiculous letter-delivery adventure and believe it would work? Apparently, whatever these letters said wasn’t enough.
Cope was a mean-ass, cold-hearted, lethal soldier. Not a Casanova. I had to figure something out, because his idea was a bust.
As if he was currently reading my mind, my phone buzzed.
Her house right now. Take the blue envelope.
Stupid bullshit. It’s obviously not working, I replied, sitting on my kitchen counter with a soda.
Do it was his response.
Fucker. I might hate the bastard.
I was positive I hated the bastard. Control freak.
Nan
My bowl of popcorn with milk chocolate morsels scattered throughout sat in my lap, and season three, episode five, of Gossip Girl played on my flatscreen. This was escaping. I was happy here. Like this. No damn letters showing up, no one watching me and judging me. Assuming they knew all about me when they knew nothing. Small-minded idiots. I needed a Chuck Bass. He’d get me. He’d understand me. We were one and the same, Chuck and I.
My doorbell rang, and I set my bowl of goodness to the side and sighed in frustration. This had better be good if it was interrupting my perfect afternoon.
I should have peeked through the hole or glanced out the window. But no, I was in a hurry to get rid of the person on the other side of the door. So when I opened it and Major was standing there with a blue envelope in his hand, I wanted to scream in frustration.
