A Few Flowers

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A Few Flowers Page 7

by Gail Sattler


  Erin stepped in, raised her arms in the air, twirled on her toes, hugged herself, then flopped backward to lean against the wall. “Oh, Cindy!” she sighed. “I’m in love!”

  Cindy rolled her eyes. “I don’t believe this.”

  “It’s true. I can barely believe it myself.” Erin sighed again.

  Cindy smacked her open palm on top of the page. “In love or not, I couldn’t believe the two of you on the couch. I’ve never been so embarrassed.”

  “I’m sorry.” Erin stared at her feet and rubbed one toe into the carpet. “Really.”

  Cindy sighed. “If we must discuss this, do you have any idea how Troy feels about you?”

  “He feels the same way. What about you and Monty?” Erin tipped her head to the side. “He’s cute. Seems your type, too.”

  “My type?” Cindy crossed her arms. “And what type would that be?”

  “You know. So serious about things. Just like you.”

  “He’s not my type, and you know it.”

  Erin snorted. “Really? Look at what you’re going to do. You and your new beau have plans to trudge through the damp and dirty bushes battling the bugs to go have lunch in the middle of nowhere.” Erin raised her hands up in the air, then dropped them to her sides with a slap. “I couldn’t think of a better place to go on a date.”

  “He’s not my beau and it’s not a date.”

  Erin snorted again.

  “We both thought it was a great idea.”

  “See?”

  Cindy snapped her book shut. “Go to bed, Erin.”

  ❧

  Another vase of flowers awaited Cindy as she arrived at work. This time the arrangement consisted of a sprig of yellow buttercups, a row of red snapdragons, and a white gardenia. Cindy was beginning to see a pattern. She was also beginning to see that Montgomery Smythe didn’t listen well to instruction.

  As the week progressed, since she hadn’t seen or heard from him except for the daily arrival of the flowers, she no longer felt the urgency of telling him she wouldn’t see him again after their hike. However, she couldn’t stop thinking about him.

  Each day a different variety of flowers arrived, but every day the flowers were the same colors. Red, white, and yellow. If he had a point to make and was trying to pique her curiosity, by Friday, he’d succeeded.

  Robert buzzed just after her afternoon coffee break and handed her a large manila envelope marked Smythe Computer Systems. “Our lawyer has drawn up this contract for their proposal and I need you to deliver it to Smythe. Go now, and have a nice weekend.”

  Cindy nodded. Since she hadn’t spoken to Monty all week, her worries appeared to have been in vain. Strangely, although she knew it was best, the thought caused her some regret.

  As she packed up her desk for the weekend, including today’s flowers of one red tulip, one white zinnia, and something that looked like an oversized fluffy dandelion, she felt the eyes of the four secretaries on her back.

  “It looks like ‘courier’ has just been added to my job description. Bye, all.” She’d heard enough razzing about the flowers every day, so she deliberately didn’t tell them where she was going. As it was, the receptionist downstairs was on a first-name basis with the florist’s delivery man.

  The address brought Cindy to a downtown high-rise office tower, which held a number of businesses. Inside the door boldly marked “Smythe Computer Systems, Inc.,” she found two younger men and a gray-haired lady busily working. Computers, printers, and other high-tech equipment that she didn’t recognize lined the walls. Across the room, Monty sat behind a desk in a small private office with windowed walls.

  His suit jacket hung across the back of his chair. His tie was pulled open to a wide circle draped around his neck, and the top few buttons on his shirt were undone. His loose cuffs rolled up halfway to his elbows showed the dusting of dark hair on his arms.

  A coffee cup sat on the corner of the desk, along with a half-eaten sandwich. Wearing his glasses, he studiously concentrated on his computer screen as he typed. Watching him type so fast, Cindy suspected that Monty typed better than she did.

  The woman folded her hands on her desk. “Can I help you?”

  “I have an envelope for Mr. Smythe.”

  The lady smiled curiously and eyed Cindy up and down, leaving Cindy to wonder if maybe Monty didn’t get many visitors. The woman dialed Monty’s office and spoke to him. He removed his glasses and turned toward her as he hung up the phone. Walking out of his office, he smiled warmly and pulled the knot on his tie tighter.

  “This is a pleasant surprise. What brings you around this side of town?”

  She handed him the envelope and followed him back into his office, where, once inside, he closed the door. He held the contract at arm’s length and craned his neck backward at the same time as he patted his shirt pocket with his other hand. Looking around, he then picked up his glasses off the desk. Once they were perched on his nose, he relaxed and held the paper at a more comfortable distance. “This is good. Except for a few concessions, it’s exactly what I wanted.” He signed the document and handed it back to Cindy along with a pen.

  “What do you want me to do with this?” she asked.

  “Witness it.” He pointed out a few spots on the contract. “Sign here and here and initial here. All you’re doing is swearing that you saw me sign it. And put the date here.”

  She grinned. “But as a Christian, I don’t swear.” He returned her grin but didn’t comment. As she leaned over the desk to sign, he was so close that she could detect the faint scent of his musky aftershave, even so late in the day. She hastily scribbled her signature and backed up. Monty removed his glasses and laid them back down on the desk.

  He seemed unaffected, making her feel foolish. She fumbled with her purse for lack of something to do with her hands. “I think I’d better phone Robert, just in case he wants this back today.”

  “Be my guest.” Monty pushed the phone across the desk and left the office to allow her to make her call in private.

  The quick phone call gave her time to calm her rattled nerves. When she opened the door after hanging up, Monty was speaking to one of the other office workers. As soon as he noticed her, he straightened and approached her. His shirt was now buttoned up, the cuffs rolled down and fastened neatly at his wrists, and his tie was pulled all the way to the top and neatly straightened. Unless she imagined it, his hair was also freshly combed.

  “He asked me to take it home and bring it in Monday morning.”

  “Great. If you’re not expected back, why don’t we go out to dinner while you’re here?”

  She wanted the opportunity to talk to him in private, but going out for dinner was too intimate a setting to suit Cindy. Besides, she didn’t think it would be very nice to allow him to take her out for dinner only to tell him she didn’t want to see him again. “I don’t know. . . .” Cindy looked at the door, then at her watch. “I have to go to the bank.”

  “I’m famished, but I hate to dine alone. I wish you’d join me.” He smiled, setting off the adorable crinkles at the corners of his eyes, weakening Cindy’s resolve.

  “I guess,” she mumbled.

  “It will take me about fifteen minutes to finish up what I’m doing, if you don’t mind waiting. Then I’ll show you to the nearest bank, and we can have an early dinner.” Monty nodded toward the chair beside her. “You can stay right here in my office while I finish this.”

  She didn’t like his expectant expression. The man wore his heart on his sleeve. She strengthened her resolve to tell him tonight, before he got any more wrong ideas. Cindy hesitated, but she didn’t know what else to do. “Okay.”

  With that, he put his glasses back on and continued typing. Within the predicted fifteen minutes, he stood, slipped on his suit jacket, and tidied up his desk. “Done. Let’s go.”

  The receptionist spoke as he opened the door. “When will you be back?”

  “Monday.”

  All thr
ee staff members stopped working to look at their wristwatches.

  “Is everything all right, Montgomery?” the receptionist asked.

  “Just fine,” he answered. “Good night, all.” With that, Monty rested his hand lightly on the small of Cindy’s back and ushered her out the door.

  Six

  “I gather you don’t usually leave early?”

  Monty nodded. “Agnes enjoys taking great pains to catch me working late and then giving me a rough time about it. Lately, I’ve been leaving around seven o’clock, but since everything at the office is connected to my home by modem, I finish up there.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Don’t ask me why I let her do this to me. After all, I’m the boss.”

  He stopped talking as a man walked past them in the hallway and nodded in greeting. “When Monday morning comes, I won’t hear the end of this from her.” He pushed the button for the elevator. “The bank is in a mall just around the corner. We could walk in less time than we could drive.”

  Inside the elevator, they again stood exactly eye to eye. Cindy suddenly faced forward. If she had known this was going to happen, she would have chosen flatter shoes. “I think I should put the contract in my car. I don’t want to take a chance losing or bending it.”

  When she opened the car door, the scent of flowers wafted out. “By the way, you said you weren’t going to send me any more flowers.”

  “Did I say that? I don’t remember promising.”

  “Very funny,” she mumbled.

  He had the nerve to grin.

  “What do I have to say or do to get you to stop sending all these flowers?”

  “Don’t you like flowers?”

  “Of course I like flowers.”

  “So what’s the problem? I enjoy sending you a few flowers from time to time.”

  Every day did not constitute “a few,” but recognizing the signs of a losing battle, Cindy gave up. “A little bird told me that you didn’t finish your lunch, so I guess we should go get something to eat right after I deposit my paycheck.”

  His cheeks darkened slightly. “I guess I got so lost in what I was doing, I didn’t notice the time. And for the record, my office isn’t usually such a mess, but I’m pushing a deadline. I’m not going to lie. I’m famished. Do you have a favorite restaurant I can take you to?”

  A hamburger in the small food court inside the mall would have suited her purposes just fine. “Anything is okay with me.”

  “There’s a nice little Japanese place nearby, the kind where you go into a little room and take off your shoes. How’s that sound?”

  It sounded far too intimate. “Well, I don’t know. . . .”

  “It’s not far, just down that end of the mall and around the corner.”

  She opened her mouth to protest, but changed her mind. Someplace within walking distance was probably better. That way, she wouldn’t face an awkward situation with transportation or have to spend more time with him once she said what she had to say. “Okay, which way?”

  “To the right.”

  As they walked through the mall toward the bank, Cindy couldn’t help but be aware of the uneven pace that accompanied his constant limp. She took extra care to walk slowly, hoping it wasn’t too obvious that she was slowing down for him.

  He sat at a bench while she ran into the bank, then they continued on their way to a small Japanese restaurant that had entrances both from the mall and the outside.

  The hostess, attired in a floral-patterned Japanese geisha costume, escorted them to a quaint little room with rice paper walls, hand-painted with scenes of flowers and dragons and people in old-world costumes. Twangy oriental music played softly in the background. The hostess indicated where to leave their shoes, and they slid into place at the low table.

  Cindy noticed that Monty slid in very slowly, then exhaled in relief as he straightened his left leg. She’d done her best to ignore his constant limp, which was a poignant reminder that his accident really hadn’t been all that long ago.

  After presenting the menus, their waitress left them alone in the small cubicle.

  Instead of reading the menu, Cindy studied the room. Even though the walls between the tables were made of thin paper, they still provided an atmosphere of privacy. She heard the low murmur of voices, but couldn’t make out individual conversations.

  She’d hardly been out to dinner at all in the past year, and lately the only person she’d been out with besides Erin was Troy. In the private atmosphere, if she had been with Troy, by now he would be trying to play footsie under the table since they had to take off their shoes.

  Across the table from her, with his glasses perched efficiently on his nose, Monty studied the menu. “Feel exotic?” he asked without lifting his head. “Ever tried sushi?”

  Cindy abandoned her analysis of the room and picked up her menu. Except for sushi, which she knew was raw fish, she had no idea what any of the menu items were. “I think you’d better order for me. I’ve never been to a place like this before.”

  He lowered his chin and peered at her over the tops of his glasses. “Really? My, but you’re trusting. Well, you asked for it.” At his impish grin, Cindy’s heart beat a little faster.

  When the waitress returned, he gave her their orders and returned his glasses to his pocket. A few minutes later, the waitress brought them a painted ceramic teapot and two small ceramic cups without handles.

  Cindy sniffed at the fragrant steam. “What is this?”

  “A special blend of green tea, mostly jasmine, I believe. You have to let the tea steep for a few more minutes. Watch out, it’s very hot. When it’s ready, be careful to pour slowly so you don’t get tea leaves in your cup.”

  After waiting a sufficient amount of time, she cautiously tasted the tea and discovered she liked it. To her surprise, she enjoyed the entire meal, which came in small unidentifiable servings, one item at a time. This made the entire dinner stretch out to an unbelievable amount of time. Monty made a lame joke about the necessity of saying grace over each new arrival, even though they didn’t. Each course amounted to little more than a few bites.

  In the neutral atmosphere, Cindy allowed herself to relax. Despite the fact that Monty seemed to be very serious-minded, she enjoyed his company. Unlike her time with Troy, she didn’t have to constantly be on her guard to fend off any advances, however playful. Even though Troy’s teasing always started out as fun, he didn’t know when to quit, and after awhile she got more than a little tired it. Not having to worry about any hidden agenda, Cindy could simply relax and be herself with Monty. After all, she had nothing to lose. By the time the evening ended, if he was even still interested, she would tell him how she felt, and they would part friends. She chatted amicably, enjoying herself more than she had in a long time.

  ❧

  Monty sat back, listening to Cindy talk, entranced. He’d never met anyone like her before. She was exactly as she claimed to be. She didn’t flirt with him, in fact, the opposite. Everything she said and did showed no ulterior motives or designs. She appeared to simply enjoy her evening out. At least he hoped she was enjoying herself as much as he was. Most of all, she didn’t look up or down at him.

  She didn’t treat him like the lowlife illegitimate son of some hooker or drug addict, which all indications had led him to believe himself to be. He had no desire to dig into his records to find out that his suspicions were true. Having run away from the social services system enough times as a youth, often living on the streets until he was too scared or hungry to take any more chances, he’d been bounced around through a high number of foster homes, both good and bad, until he reached legal age. He’d spent the majority of his life on the wrong side of the tracks. She didn’t care about his past.

  Now that he had become a success, those who previously ignored him or showed their disdain appeared out of the woodwork. For awhile, some of his business contacts and even one woman he thought he recognized as a neighbor had appeared in the strangest places, giving
him sideways glances and hints that made it impossible to mistake their motives. He wasn’t interested in those types of people.

  However, Cindy didn’t fall at his feet or try to impress him, flirt with him, or play feminine games. He had been perfectly honest with her, and without giving her a notarized bank statement of his net worth or financial standing, she was intelligent enough to figure out that he was well on the way to being independently wealthy. She not only did not care, she appeared to have created a distance between them at that discovery, and he admired her for her strength of character. He could let his guard down and simply be himself.

  Unfortunately, he had the impression that if Robert hadn’t given her the contract to deliver, she wouldn’t be with him now. Being with Cindy and joining in the lighthearted conversation made him realize he hadn’t been able to sit back and really relax in years, or perhaps in his entire life.

  He couldn’t help but admire her solidness of faith. Several of the foster homes where he’d lived had been Christian homes, and they constantly told him that God loved him, even dragged him to church despite his unwilling attitude. He hadn’t believed anything they said. Instead, he’d felt God had abandoned him—until the day of his accident, when he realized God had been with him all along and he had been the one pushing God away, not the other way around.

  Despite the situations in which he found himself, in hindsight, he could see God had always been with him, keeping him safe. When he made his decision to apply himself and make something of his life, he thought he’d fallen into every opportunity on his own. Looking back, it was God who had opened every door. Wide. Even when he’d been on death’s doorstep, God again reached out to touch him by sending Cindy just for the short time he needed her, before she disappeared.

  And now, when he’d given up on finding her, God blessed him again, putting Cindy in his path. This time he wouldn’t lose her.

 

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