Pavel needed a second driver to help him carry everything, and when they arrived at the building the security guard held up his hand.
“No,” he said. “Absolutely not.”
“Sir, I have a delivery to make.”
“You’ve been coming here every day and each time you bring more flowers than the last, and the fourth floor is starting to look like a botanical garden, and people are complaining about the smell, and I’ve had three employees come down here with allergies asking me to make it stop.”
“I understand, sir, but I have a job to do.”
The security guard crossed his arms. “How many flowers do you have today?”
“Three hundred roses, fifty sunflowers, and thirty peonies.”
“Three hundred?” The security guard’s eye twitched. “And how many are coming tomorrow?”
Pavel hesitated. “Four hundred.”
“Four hundred.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And the day after that?”
Pavel swallowed hard. “Five hundred.”
The security guard stared at him for a long moment and then stepped aside with a heavy sigh. “Fine, but I’m filing a complaint with building management.”
Pavel and his helper rushed past before the guard could change his mind.
On the fourth floor, Iris Ivanovich’s office could no longer contain the flowers. They had to start placing arrangements in the hallway, in the break room, and in the conference room.
“My husband is trying to kill me,” Iris said while stepping over a vase to get to her desk. “Death by flowers.”
The male colleague who always seemed to be lurking nearby appeared in her doorway.
“This is ridiculous,” he said. “He’s disrupting the entire office.”
Iris looked at him with a sweet smile. “Are you jealous, Anton?”
Anton’s face turned red. “Of course not, I just think it’s unprofessional.”
“Then don’t look at them.”
DAY FIVE
Four hundred roses, fifty sunflowers, and thirty pink peonies.
Pavel arrived at the building with a team of three drivers and a van packed so full of flowers that petals were falling out of the cracks in the doors.
The security guard saw them coming and immediately picked up his phone.
“Sir, you cannot come in here today,” he said while holding up his free hand. “I’ve spoken with building management and they’ve decided that no more flower deliveries will be permitted until further notice.”
Pavel felt his stomach drop. “Sir, please, I have to deliver these flowers.”
“I’m sorry, but the fourth floor has become a fire hazard, people are tripping over vases, the ventilation system is clogged with pollen, and the building manager received seventeen complaints yesterday alone.”
“But my client—”
