“A friend.”
“A romantic friend?”
“No. An online friend.”
“Oh.”
“What’s going on over here?” Clive, our boss, asks as he approaches my desk.
“Nothing.” Hayley returns to her desk.
Margaret slips away, back to reception.
“Happy birthday,” Clive says. “Now back to work.”
I carry on with my design until Clive has returned to his office. Then I text Kyle.
Thanks for the cactus. It’s a sweet gift.
Kyle
I hope I didn’t embarrass you too much by sending it to work. I couldn’t think of a way to ask for your home address without raising your suspicions.
I was only a tiny bit embarrassed.
Sure?
Maybe a lot embarrassed, but the cactus is worth it.
I’ll need to give it a name.
You said you didn’t have much of a green thumb. The man in the shop assured me cacti are easy to look after. You only need to water it every week or two. It likes light and warmth.
I’ll leave it in the office, then. It’s always warm in here. You realise I need your address now.
Why?
So I can send you a gift on your birthday. You’re working on a different site every time I talk to you.
Slight exaggeration there.
You know what I mean.
I do.
I’ll try extra hard to keep the cactus alive.
I expect a weekly proof of life photo.
I take a photo of the cactus and send it to him.
It’s safe and well.
You’ve only had it for a few minutes.
Trust me, that’s long enough for me to kill most plants. I only have to look at them, and they wither and die.
I doubt that’s true. No one is that bad with plants.
