Everything for Her
Page 58
- Background:
- Text Font:
- Text Size:
- Line Height:
- Line Break Height:
- Frame:
I found this clover the day I saw you, and I kept it in my wallet ever since. I felt like it was a sign of things to come. That if I did everything right, maybe one day I could have you.
If you exit out of the south side of the building, there’s a small garden nearby. Go there when you get a moment today. I’ve got something for you.
Love, Oz
I place the clover carefully inside the papers and take out my wallet. I have an empty pocket behind my driver’s license and I slip it inside. It’s as if the space was waiting for the clover, and something about it makes me ridiculously happy to have it.
I can’t stop smiling but there’s also a lump in my throat. This man means so much to me and it’s eating at me that I’m mad at him. Worse, I’m now worrying about how it’s eating at him, too. I’m making us both miserable.
A few hours later, Skyler asks me to lunch, but I’ve got plans. I need to find this garden and see what’s there.
Making my way past the security desk and to the back of the building, I look around for an exit. There’s a guard by the door with an earpiece in his ear, and when he sees me, he opens a hidden door I never knew was there. Has he been waiting on me all day? I idly wonder if he would have stood here waiting on me until nightfall.
When I walk through the door, there’s a winding stone path that’s covered by a wooden pergola. A lush wisteria vine weaves through the wood, creating shade and pops of lavender. The garden is cool, despite the New York heat, and there’s even a slight breeze.
The path continues to curve, and I walk what seems like a long way before I finally come around the last bend.
At the end of it, I look around and put a hand to my mouth in shock. It’s absolutely beautiful. The path ends, revealing a large, round grassy area. There is a wooden bench and a linen-covered table that sit across from me, with lunch set for one. There are trees surrounding a low stone wall and a small waterfall off to the side. It’s peaceful and completely private and so incredibly beautiful. I can’t even hear the noise of the city and I’m outside. Looking down at the thick green grass, I decide to take my shoes off. I take a step and it’s then I notice clovers cover nearly everything, all of them dancing in the soft breeze. I smile and walk to the table.
Before I sit down on the bench, I notice the sun catches a gold plaque on the wood, and I read it.
To Mallory,
Everything for Her
I run my thumb over the words and take a deep breath, trying to hold back the emotions. I look around the secret garden and try to take it all in. He’s done so much for me that I’d never known about, and I wonder if I should be upset about it at all. The thing that strikes me the most is that this place isn’t new. This has been here for some time. How long, I have no idea. I know that this didn’t happen overnight.
I spend my lunch in the garden, enjoying the food and listening to the waterfall. I think about him, and then I wonder how many times Oz sat in this very same spot and thought of me.
Friday
I’ve been at work for about two hours, and I have to admit I’m a bit disappointed that there haven’t been any deliveries. I haven’t responded to any of his texts in the past forty-eight hours. For a moment I fear he might have given up but I quickly push that aside. I know he won’t and something about that is so reassuring and makes me feel safe. I sink myself into reports, and only when I hear a small hum do I look up.
A man in an old barber’s costume blows into a tuning device, and I look around to see three other men with him.
“Oh my God,” I say as the barbershop quartet starts to sing.
Everyone in the department comes over, and my face is as red as a fire hydrant. And to make matters worse, they’re singing “Call Me Maybe” by Carly Rae Jepsen. If there was a hole close to me, I’d crawl inside of it and die of embarrassment.
But as they sing, I find myself laughing again, and all I can think about is Oz and how much he’s made me smile through this whole week, even through my anger.
After the guys leave to resounding applause from the entire accounting department, we all go back to work. I have my phone in my hand again as I try to decide what to say, when I hear another hum.
“Oh, God,” I say, and put my hands on my head as another singing telegram begins a song.
All day Friday, I have people singing to me, one even dressed as a gorilla doing Britney Spears. It’s insanity, and I’m mortified. But at the same time, I have to give it to him. The man knows what he’s doing.
A phone call isn’t going to cut it this time, and he knows it. I need to see him.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Mallory
* * *
I take a deep breath and try to keep my knees from knocking together. Pressing my hand to my stomach, I try to keep the butterflies at bay.
Pressing the button for the top floor, I steel myself. This won’t be easy, but I’ve got to keep it together.
When the doors open to the executive floor, I step out and see a young woman sitting behind a large wooden desk polished to perfection.
As I step forward, I see her with her head down, writing furiously in a notebook, not even noticing that the elevator opened or that someone is now waiting in front of her. I clear my throat, and the young woman nearly jumps out of her seat, clutching her notebook to her chest, and then immediately hiding it away.
“Yes, sorry. Hi,” she says, clearly flustered as she pushes her glasses back on her nose. “Welcome. May I help you?” She finds her footing and sits up straighter.
If you exit out of the south side of the building, there’s a small garden nearby. Go there when you get a moment today. I’ve got something for you.
Love, Oz
I place the clover carefully inside the papers and take out my wallet. I have an empty pocket behind my driver’s license and I slip it inside. It’s as if the space was waiting for the clover, and something about it makes me ridiculously happy to have it.
I can’t stop smiling but there’s also a lump in my throat. This man means so much to me and it’s eating at me that I’m mad at him. Worse, I’m now worrying about how it’s eating at him, too. I’m making us both miserable.
A few hours later, Skyler asks me to lunch, but I’ve got plans. I need to find this garden and see what’s there.
Making my way past the security desk and to the back of the building, I look around for an exit. There’s a guard by the door with an earpiece in his ear, and when he sees me, he opens a hidden door I never knew was there. Has he been waiting on me all day? I idly wonder if he would have stood here waiting on me until nightfall.
When I walk through the door, there’s a winding stone path that’s covered by a wooden pergola. A lush wisteria vine weaves through the wood, creating shade and pops of lavender. The garden is cool, despite the New York heat, and there’s even a slight breeze.
The path continues to curve, and I walk what seems like a long way before I finally come around the last bend.
At the end of it, I look around and put a hand to my mouth in shock. It’s absolutely beautiful. The path ends, revealing a large, round grassy area. There is a wooden bench and a linen-covered table that sit across from me, with lunch set for one. There are trees surrounding a low stone wall and a small waterfall off to the side. It’s peaceful and completely private and so incredibly beautiful. I can’t even hear the noise of the city and I’m outside. Looking down at the thick green grass, I decide to take my shoes off. I take a step and it’s then I notice clovers cover nearly everything, all of them dancing in the soft breeze. I smile and walk to the table.
Before I sit down on the bench, I notice the sun catches a gold plaque on the wood, and I read it.
To Mallory,
Everything for Her
I run my thumb over the words and take a deep breath, trying to hold back the emotions. I look around the secret garden and try to take it all in. He’s done so much for me that I’d never known about, and I wonder if I should be upset about it at all. The thing that strikes me the most is that this place isn’t new. This has been here for some time. How long, I have no idea. I know that this didn’t happen overnight.
I spend my lunch in the garden, enjoying the food and listening to the waterfall. I think about him, and then I wonder how many times Oz sat in this very same spot and thought of me.
Friday
I’ve been at work for about two hours, and I have to admit I’m a bit disappointed that there haven’t been any deliveries. I haven’t responded to any of his texts in the past forty-eight hours. For a moment I fear he might have given up but I quickly push that aside. I know he won’t and something about that is so reassuring and makes me feel safe. I sink myself into reports, and only when I hear a small hum do I look up.
A man in an old barber’s costume blows into a tuning device, and I look around to see three other men with him.
“Oh my God,” I say as the barbershop quartet starts to sing.
Everyone in the department comes over, and my face is as red as a fire hydrant. And to make matters worse, they’re singing “Call Me Maybe” by Carly Rae Jepsen. If there was a hole close to me, I’d crawl inside of it and die of embarrassment.
But as they sing, I find myself laughing again, and all I can think about is Oz and how much he’s made me smile through this whole week, even through my anger.
After the guys leave to resounding applause from the entire accounting department, we all go back to work. I have my phone in my hand again as I try to decide what to say, when I hear another hum.
“Oh, God,” I say, and put my hands on my head as another singing telegram begins a song.
All day Friday, I have people singing to me, one even dressed as a gorilla doing Britney Spears. It’s insanity, and I’m mortified. But at the same time, I have to give it to him. The man knows what he’s doing.
A phone call isn’t going to cut it this time, and he knows it. I need to see him.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Mallory
* * *
I take a deep breath and try to keep my knees from knocking together. Pressing my hand to my stomach, I try to keep the butterflies at bay.
Pressing the button for the top floor, I steel myself. This won’t be easy, but I’ve got to keep it together.
When the doors open to the executive floor, I step out and see a young woman sitting behind a large wooden desk polished to perfection.
As I step forward, I see her with her head down, writing furiously in a notebook, not even noticing that the elevator opened or that someone is now waiting in front of her. I clear my throat, and the young woman nearly jumps out of her seat, clutching her notebook to her chest, and then immediately hiding it away.
“Yes, sorry. Hi,” she says, clearly flustered as she pushes her glasses back on her nose. “Welcome. May I help you?” She finds her footing and sits up straighter.
