Orchid laughed. “Love you,” she said.
Too much drama. Time to move on.
CHAPTER21
YOU FIRST
Phoenix
Phoenix had scared Orchid away. Terrified her by not protecting her. He’d promised his dad to do one good deed, and keep it confidential. He’d promised himself never to hurt her. And yet, in one night, he’d screwed up both those commitments. How to make it right?Leave her alone.
Now he was grieving, and missing her already. What would he do without her, this woman who brought vegan meals to hungry ad execs? Who listened with an ocean of empathy? The woman who now believed that all of his actions were calculated.
But what hurt him most was how learning the truth had caused Orchid to question her own worth. He wanted to right that hurt. If he could.
He had taken out his phone and entered a text. “I know this must all seem like a shock. I’m sorry. We can talk anytime you’d like.”
The lack of a response over the next days had left him wondering if she’d blocked his number.
This silence had now gone on for weeks. Their lack of communication had become a painful buzz. She was leaving for Beijing in a few days. Despite his heavy workload, including helping his creative team prep for their REBBL pitch, she never left his mind.
What was she working on? How did her coworkers take the news? Was she prepping for the trip? Celebrating? Was there some way he could help her get ready?
In his mind, these were legitimate reasons to contact her. Yet, his high road was to aim for what was best for her.
He didn’t want to cause her any pain. He wanted to express his sorrow, and then he’d leave her alone.
The flower shop near his apartment beckoned. His trip to the airport for his early morning flight could wait.
The florist came out of a back room. She was wearing a green smock with large pockets. Potting tools protruded from one of them. “What’s the occasion?” she asked. “Birthday? Congratulations?”
“A little of all of that… but mostly an apology.”
“Ah, then perhaps a potted plant… or cut flowers.”
He looked over at the plants displayed on floor-to-ceiling shelves. “Orchids? Or would that not go over well?”
“They’re not as fragile as they appear,” she said.
“You can say that again,” he declared. When she looked confused, he added, “Her name’s Orchid, and she feels it’s cliché for someone to buy orchids for her. Plus, she’s leaving for a trip soon, so I think she’d enjoy cut flowers.”
“Roses? They’re always classic.”
“I’m not sure it’s that kind of relationship.”
The woman arched a brow, reminding him that she’d probably heard every possible reason for flowers.
He suddenly remembered Orchid standing before his aunt and uncle’s photos. “Peonies. Her favorite are peonies.”
She nodded. “Wonderful choice, I’ll make a bouquet. She can have them as early as tomorrow.” She pointed to a stack of cards on the counter. “Would you like to write a card?” There was an ornate bowl at his elbow. It was filled with pens.
He picked up one of the cards. There was more to say than could fit on a small space.
He recalled how Orchid had intrigued him that first night at the club, this gorgeous apparition who’d barged into the bathroom and then connected with him over Mandarin. He should be teaching her Chinese, not this Peter guy. And she’d looked like a rock star skating into the Lauder conference room. Those blue streaks in her hair, rings on every finger. The refined features of an empress cast into modern times. He knew the grace of her movements, the selfless ways she considered everyone’s feelings. And the depth of her empathy when she was comforting him about the loss of his father.
The florist returned with an armful of pink and white flowers, nestled inside fuchsia paper. They were beautiful enough to be an oversized wedding bouquet. He inhaled deeply, at his mind’s image of Orchid, her delicate features as she took in the scented blooms.
“Jot down her address and a delivery date, and we’re all set.” She handed him an iPad Always the adman, he wondered how they’d personalize their marketing? Would the florist forevermore send him photos of peonies? Could they train Artificial Intelligence to play off the idea of flowers for Orchid? Or that bouquets from a phoenix would first have to burn, and then rise from ashes? His creativity had no OFF button. Perhaps it was time to understand why.
