“So what happened?”
“For my last two summers of school, I’d worked as an intern with Wesley Manfield, back in the UK.” He paused as if I should have known who that was. “He’s a very famous horticulturist, known for his prize-winning roses. He’s had a weekly television show on BBC Three for decades. He was my idol. Working for him was like a dream come true.” He let out a deep sigh before he continued. “So once I graduated, he offered me a job at his greenhouse and I jumped at the chance. About six months after I started my job at Manfield’s, I met Melanie Manfield, and a few months later, we began dating. Then—”
“Wait. Melanie Manfield?” I picked my head up.
“Yes.” He gently lowered my head back to his chest. “Wesley’s daughter. She also worked at Manfield’s. We saw each other every day. A friendship bloomed—no pun intended—and then we fell in love.”
“The boss’s daughter, huh?”
“Yup.”
“How did he feel about that?”
“Actually, he loved it. As the years went on and I rose in the ranks of his organization, he would often hint at Melanie and me getting married and carrying on the family legacy. It all felt so perfect. My whole life was laid out ahead of me, and it felt like everything I’d ever wanted.”
There was a spark of recognition in Dan’s words. That was exactly how I’d felt with Teddy. I understood the pressure of dating someone with a strong family legacy and the feeling of perfection with unease bubbling underneath the surface.
“Did you want to marry Melanie?” I’m not sure why I asked the question. That’s a lie. A small, insecure part of me still wondered if I was, in fact, a rebound; but as soon as the words left my mouth, I wondered if my penchant for saying exactly what I was thinking was appropriate in this particular instance.
“We definitely weren’t ready to get married, even though we’d been together for years, but…” He sighed. “I always assumed… you know. I’m not sure, really. I do know I loved her. I loved her very much.”
“Why did you break up?”
“She chose her father over me. I mean, I should’ve expected it, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt like hell. Especially along with everything else that happened.”
“What are you… what do you mean?”
“Have you never Googled me?” He lifted his head to meet my eye.
“No, I…” I had to think. It never actually occurred to me to Google Dan, which felt strange because internet sleuthing to get a full picture of a person’s public image was a very large part of my job. At this point, it was almost an instinct. With Dan, I’d never had a reason to. He was always so open and honest with me, even now as we lay in his bed, nude and holding each other. “I never even thought about it.”
“Well, I guess I’m glad you’ll get to hear it from me.” He relaxed into the mattress and rubbed my back. “Every year in Europe, thereis an annual flower competition. Manfield’s competed every year for decades and usually won at least half of the top prizes. You’ve probably never heard of it, but it’s a really big competition—millions of dollars in sponsors, televised broadcast, prize money, prestige. Usually, Wesley worked on competition plants himself. He was always very private and particular about them, which wasn’t odd. The man was a perfectionist. Three years ago, he finally trusted me enough to have me assist him.” Dan grew silent. I shifted in his arms and placed a kiss on his chest, listening to him breathe.
“In order to take the top prize, best overall in the rose category, your plants have to be completely free of artificial growth aids. You also have to document every fertilizer used and submit soil samples for testing.”
“Whoa,” I breathed. “For a flower competition?” I asked incredulously.
“Yes, love.” He chuckled. “Flowers are serious business. I won’t bore you with the details, but I discovered that was the reason Wesley was so protective about his competition roses.”
“He was cheating,” I blurted out knowingly.
“Yeah,” Dan confirmed. “I confronted him about it, and at first, he denied it, but I kept pressing and he finally admitted it. It was one of the worst days of my life. It was like finding out Father Christmas was your dad the whole time and he’d been lying to you your entire childhood.”
I was tempted to ask Dan if his family celebrated Christmas, but this was definitely the wrong time to ask.
“Hindus don’t celebrate Christmas, Emma,” he said, correctlyreading my mind. “But I did grow up in London. It’s a little hard to escape.”
“So… what? Did he withdraw the roses from the competition?”
“No. He told me that he would, but months went by with no result. Finally, I told him that I wanted to resign, that I couldn’t be a part of his deception… kind of ironic, given what I do now.” He huffed out a mirthless chuckle.
“No.” I picked up my head again. “That’s completely different. What you do here is important and it helps people. You’re not cheating to steal prize money or keep an ill-gotten reputation intact.”
“Thank you, love.” He sighed. “But sometimes I’m not sure…”
“Well, I am. That’s fucked up. What did Melanie say when you told her what her father was doing?” I was met with more silence. “You didn’t tell her?”
“Wesley begged me not to. I’ve wondered what would have happened if I’d gone to her right away, but I didn’t want to ruin her perfect image of her dad. He was going to make an excuse, withdraw from the competition, and no one was ever supposed to know.”
