After His Peonies: A Romantic Comedy

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After His Peonies: A Romantic Comedy Page 4

by Alina Jacobs


  "Hey," Kate said, gesturing with one of the flowers. "Don't begrudge me this job. Unlike you, I don't have any sort of professional degree. If I wasn't Walter's assistant, I don't know what I would do. My MFA degree is basically worthless. The paper's too stiff to even wipe your behind with it."

  "Gross!" I said, giggling.

  "What's grosser is the last time he talked to me, my father wanted me to marry one of the Harrington brothers. Like this is Victorian England and people just tell their sons and daughters how to live their lives," Kate said as she angrily cut the stems off of the flowers.

  "You're not making me feel better about this dinner," I said, pulling a glass bowl out of one of the rickety cabinets and filling it with water. "I need to prove myself. I have to make associate."

  "Don't sweat it," Kate said as she arranged the flowers in the bowl. "You had that meeting with Walter and Danielle today, right? I'm sure they saw you being a good employee."

  I grimaced. "I wish you had been at that meeting. It was intense."

  "I'm sure it was more intense with Hunter there undressing you with his eyes."

  "I don't think he was doing that. He was probably still in shock at what a wreck I am, what with my being shirtless in the storage closet and then devouring all of that sandwich. I bet he doesn't ask me out again. I should have taken my chance, career be damned. It's probably the last time I'll have the attention of a half-decent guy."

  "You should call him," Kate said, putting the bowl on the windowsill.

  "I can't. I'm too embarrassed and frazzled."

  "It must be a sign that you saw him three times today."

  "I wish I had made a better first impression," I said dejectedly, rummaging in my closet for a skirt and blouse that weren’t covered in kale juice.

  "Please," Kate snorted. "He saw your tits, and he got to play knight in shining armor. Guys love that. Now all you have to do is reel him in."

  "I don't know. What if he's some sort of axe murderer?"

  "Who cares? He's employed, he wears a suit, and he saved your car."

  "And stole my sandwich, and he has some sort of scheme going on. I've seen him twice today with expensive bouquets of flowers."

  "You're such a perfectionist." Kate flopped down on the bottom bunk. "You have impossible standards. You're not getting any younger, you know. If you're not careful, all you're going to be left with is a blow-up doll."

  I was a nervous wreck going to the restaurant where I would meet with Karen and Mr. Thurlow.

  Karen had it out for me, and I knew she would use this dinner as an excuse to throw me under the bus.

  "There you are!" Karen barked as I followed the hostess to a table. "We've been waiting forever."

  "The calendar invite said seven thirty!" I said, feeling my stomach turn.

  "I changed it to seven, remember?" Karen said. "Mr. Thurlow has another engagement."

  The restaurant was noisy, and I tried to block everything out and concentrate on not blowing my chance at making a good impression. If Karen had updated the calendar invite, she hadn't sent it to me.

  "Karen tells me you've had some trouble adjusting to life as a working lawyer," Mr. Thurlow said as the waiter poured a light-colored wine into the stemware.

  No, I'm fine with working as a lawyer, just not working with an evil witch, but thank you for asking.

  "No, I—" I took a deep breath. "I mean, school was obviously a different animal, but I think I'm finding my way in an office setting. It's nice to work on real cases." I winced. I sounded like an idiot. It was difficult to think over the sound of a screaming child. I couldn't believe someone had brought their kid to this restaurant. I was sitting with my back facing the room, but I longed to turn around and see what was going on. Anything to distract me from this horrible dinner.

  "You've made several mistakes," Karen said, looking down her nose, blinking rapidly.

  "I understand," Mr. Thurlow said as the waiters set down appetizers. "It can be a difficult transition from school to a working environment. I find that it helps if there's someone there to smooth the path, so to speak."

  His hand was suddenly on my leg, inching up under my skirt. I froze. I didn't know what to do.

  "Charles," a man said.

  I jumped, my fork bouncing off the appetizer plate and clattering to the floor. Face aflame, I started to stand up to retrieve it. A large hand caught my wrist.

  "Leave it."

  "Hunter?" I gasped. He smiled. "What are you doing here?"

  "This is a very popular restaurant," he said to me, pulling a chair out and wedging it between me and Charles Thurlow.

  "Hunter, my boy! Good to see you." They shook hands. Hunter did not seem all that happy to see Charles.

  "Sorry to interrupt your meeting." Hunter didn't sound at all apologetic.

  "Not a problem at all!" Karen said. Her tone was breathy. Was she…flirting? That was unsettling. She was leaning forward to Hunter, chest pushed out as much as it could go.

  Hunter didn't seem impressed, and I was viciously glad.

  "We weren't really talking about anything important, just little Meg's career at Harrington-Thurlow," Karen said with a simpering smile. "We're trying to figure out if she's a good fit."

  "Duly noted. Since you're not doing anything important, I'd like to adjourn this dinner. Meg and I have some unfinished business."

  Wait…what? I turned my head to glare at Hunter. He can't just cancel the meeting. I need this meeting to become an associate.

  Karen looked taken aback. "But we still have to—"

  "That’s fine," Charles Thurlow said, throwing his napkin on the table. "I have another engagement."

  "Hot date?" Hunter said, his smile almost feral in the candlelight.

  "Something like that!" Charles replied with a belly laugh. Hunter stood up as he left.

  "Shall we?" he asked, pulling me to my feet and gesturing almost imperceptibly to the host.

  "What about…" I tried to protest. I couldn't believe Hunter was trying to ruin my life.

  "I guess Mr. Thurlow doesn't see you as someone worth his time," Karen said, her gaze flicking between me and Hunter.

  "And she's not worth his time," Hunter said in a low voice, the expression on his face making it very clear he meant it as an insult.

  8

  Hunter

  As I guided Meghan to the front door, a waiter handed me a bag.

  "I had them box up our food," I said to her.

  "I didn't order anything."

  "I already did. We can split it." I let my hand slide down her torso and rest on the curve of her lower back.

  "I think I need a drink," Meg said. "This has been the worst day ever."

  "It has?" I said in exaggerated shock. "How could that possibly be? You met me, after all."

  "You are the source of my problems," she said, turning to me. "You stole my sandwich, and now you're ruining my career."

  "How? By saving you from Charles Thurlow? He's a terrible person. When I worked there, he was constantly chasing after the female interns and associates. I doubt he's changed his ways."

  "I don't need you to save me. I have inside information on how to handle Mr. Thurlow. He's my roommate's father."

  "She has my condolences."

  "Stop being so cavalier about this!" Meg yelled. "I need that job!"

  I snorted derisively. "Harrington-Thurlow is the worst place to work. I worked there for three months then quit. Best decision I've ever made." I looked down at her. "You could come work for me."

  "I'm not working for you," she spat at me.

  I couldn't help but grin. She reminded me of an angry cat.

  "It could be fun," I said. "I can build in a storage closet for you to undress in. And bring you sandwiches."

  "I don't want your sandwiches," Meg said, pulling away from me.

  "What about my peonies?" I whispered in her ear.

  "I don't want those either," she said. But she didn't sound that convinci
ng.

  "Someone's grouchy. Either she needs to get laid or she's hungry," I teased.

  "You are insufferable," Meg huffed.

  "Maybe a bit of both? Come with me," I said, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her close to me.

  "It's a work night," she protested.

  "So? Didn't you just finish telling me about how I just cost you your illustrative career being ferret-faced Karen's punching bag?"

  Meg let out a peal of laughter.

  "You think she looks like a ferret too?" she said, looking up at me. Her hazel eyes practically sparkled in the light from the streetlamps. I let my hand settle on her hip. It was all I could do not to drop the bag of food and kiss her.

  "You should be careful," she said. I pressed her against me. She was soft and warm. "You could invite her up to your swanky apartment to hook up, and the next thing you know, she's gnawing on your peonies."

  I smirked at her. "I'd rather have you gnawing on it."

  That was too much. She blinked and stepped away from me, wrapping her arms around herself.

  "It's freezing," she said.

  "It's almost Christmas."

  "I never liked the holiday much," she told me as we started walking again.

  "Me neither," I murmured.

  "I try to embrace the holiday spirit for my little sisters."

  "I'm canceling it for my little brothers," I told her. "They're the worst."

  "They're not that bad! They saved my car," she protested.

  "Not them. I have...well...an excessive number of younger brothers. It's a long, sad, creepy story. It should probably be a Dateline special or one of those train-wreck TLC shows."

  "It can't be bad enough to cancel Christmas!" she exclaimed.

  "Did you hear the kid screaming for a Happy Meal in one of the nicest restaurants in the city? Yeah, that was just one of my younger brothers and, if we're being honest, probably the most well-behaved one."

  She giggled. "I wondered what idiot had brought their kid to a nice restaurant."

  "You're looking at him. But," I said, holding up the paper bag, "I was smart enough to ask for a to-go box. Shall I interest m'lady in a midnight picnic? There's a little memorial park right through here."

  "I think the parks close after dark," Meg countered.

  "Always a rule follower."

  "We could be arrested!" she said.

  "We won't be arrested," I told her.

  There was a bench, and I opened up the box and handed her a fork.

  "No candles?" she teased.

  I pulled out my phone and turned on the flash. "Better?"

  She winced. "Turn it off. It makes you look like a vampire with all that blue light."

  "I'm going to suck your blood! Sparkle, sparkle, sparkle," I said, making a whooshing sound.

  "I didn't know you were a Twilight fan!" she said, laughing.

  "Never saw it," I told her. "And I hope to die never having seen it."

  "It's not that bad a movie," she said, eating a bite of scallops.

  "So you're waiting for a hundred-year-old aristocrat who looks like a seventeen-year-old boy to sweep you off your feet and carry you away into the woods?" I asked with a raise of my eyebrow.

  "I wouldn't go that far," she said with a snort. "But a good-looking, well-endowed man who buys me enough flowers to fill my apartment, sweeps me off my feet, and takes me to, say, a really nice hotel—well, I could be down with that."

  "Well, gee whiz, I wish I knew someone who fit that bill." I tapped my chin thoughtfully. "I want all your dreams to come true, but for the life of me, I just can't think of anyone who would meet that description."

  "Yeah," she said. "There's no one around here. I did say well-endowed, after all."

  "Hey now, going for a low blow there. I'll have you know my peonies are the longest, thickest flowers in the tri-state area. You won't get better quality than that. Take my word." I crossed my heart.

  "I don't take these things at face value," Meg said, her eyes flicking to my waist then back up to my face. "My mother raised me right and taught me to always test-drive the car before you sign on the dotted line."

  "Well, then," I leaned forward. "Brace yourself, Meg, because I'm going to sweep you up like you've never been swept before."

  Meg snorted, but a smile still played around her mouth. A mouth I still wanted to kiss.

  "I did okay on this picnic, didn't I?"

  She smiled broadly and held out the fork with a piece of steak on it. "This is the best piece of meat I've ever had."

  "You haven't had me yet," I said right before she slipped the fork into my mouth.

  9

  Meghan

  I felt like I was floating the next day on my way to the office. Hunter had walked me home the night before. Part of me wished he would have kissed me, but part of me was still a little nervous.

  My phone buzzed.

  Kate: Do you think Mr. Tall Blond and Sexy is going to "happen" to run into you today?

  Meg: Doubtful. I’m sure those were just coincidences

  Kate: Men like that don't do coincidences. It's all part of a grand design to get in your pants

  Meg: And honestly I don't see anything wrong with that

  Kate: Gurl.

  Too bad that magical feeling was immediately kidnapped and brutally murdered as soon as I walked into Harrington-Thurlow.

  The first thing I noticed were the flowers. The huge, beautiful bouquet was excessive and egregious. It was more like a wedding centerpiece than a simple show of affection. There were blush-pink roses, champagne chrysanthemums, white hydrangeas, and of course peonies. The flowers cascaded down from the crystal vase over the desk, and the whole arrangement was accented with pops of greenery and baby's breath. Someone had sent me the perfect bouquet. And Karen had stolen it.

  There were people fawning over her and the bouquet on her desk.

  "These are for me," I blurted out.

  "They're on my desk," Karen snapped.

  "Who are they from?" I countered.

  "The delivery guy said Hunter Svensson," one of the glossy-haired associates gushed.

  Another woman squealed, "He's a billionaire!"

  My eyes narrowed. No way. No way did Hunter send those to her. What the hell. I felt the tears start.

  You are not crying today at work, I scolded myself.

  "See the note?" someone said, passing the little piece of cardstock to me.

  Sparkle sparkle sparkle.

  I knew it.

  "Those are mine," I said more forcefully.

  "No, they aren't," Karen hissed.

  I felt stupid trying to argue about it. It was my word against hers.

  "I can't believe you're trying to make it seem like someone sent you these flowers," Karen snapped at me. "Women need to support other women, you know."

  In that moment I really wanted to say screw it and quit. I tried to talk myself out of pushing the nuclear button. I needed this job. At the very least, I needed to make associate, stay a year, and then and only then could I find another job.

  Hunter offered you a job, my brain prodded.

  No, he didn't, brain. He was just flirting.

  Hunter bought flowers like normal people buy water bottles. It didn't mean anything. But it still stung that Karen had taken the bouquet. The first time someone had bought me flowers and Karen stole them. I sat silently at my desk, fuming, and texted Kate.

  Meg: Hunter sent me flowers

  I added a picture to the text message.

  Kate: Those are beautiful!!!

  Meg: …And Karen took them

  Kate: No. She. Didn't. Steal them back!

  Meg: I can't! She told everyone Hunter sent them to her

  "Did you finish the write-up for the Gionni case?" Karen said, voice grating in my ear.

  "I didn't know I was supposed to be on it," I said through gritted teeth.

  "I told you about it yesterday," Karen said, tapping her foot.

&nb
sp; Liar.

  "I must have missed it," I said, trying to keep a lid on my temper.

  "Hm," she said. "You need to pay better attention."

  I worked through lunch. I had to make up the work that I had missed. Thanks, Karen!

  I also was slightly afraid of seeing Hunter. What if I had made a mistake? What if he had actually meant to send the flowers to Karen? Maybe this was a thing he did along with cutting lunch lines. Maybe he just liked to toy with women like a cat. Maybe he’d had the exact conversation we had had with several other women. He'd had multiple bouquets yesterday, after all.

  By the time the office had emptied out that evening and it was just Karen and me, I had worked myself up into a frenzy.

  "Are you done yet?" Karen snapped. "I swear you are the slowest worker."

  I hunched over my computer, finished proofreading the last email I had to send out, and hit the blue send button.

  "That's the last of it."

  "You need to improve your work quality," Karen said. She pursed her mouth as she read through what I had sent. "I guess you can go home now. But I expect to see you here early tomorrow. You can't just waltz in here whenever you feel like it. "

  "Sure," I said.

  "And adjust your attitude," she scolded. "Mr. Thurlow likes to see pretty, happy faces." She smiled at me, exposing her weird sharp front teeth.

  I smiled back at her.

  "That's better!" she said, putting on her coat and picking up my flowers.

  I sat at my desk, trying to calm down, and waited until I was sure she had left the building. Then I slowly put on my coat. I looked through the office. There had been a meeting earlier that day, and I took a soggy leftover sandwich and a bag of chips. It was the most pathetic dinner ever, but it was free.

  "There's a man waiting for you downstairs," Edwina, the cleaning lady, said to me as I waved to her.

  "Really?" I asked.

  "Even though I'm not supposed to, I let him in. He's very charming."

 

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