by Scott, Lisa
“Why do you always have to be funny? Everything’s a joke, isn’t it?” she’d said to him. “Sometimes you have to be serious.”
Tripp had been stunned. Usually Chelsea liked his humor. That was the beginning of the end of things. She’d broken up with him by spring break. Well, these roses should show her he’d changed, right?
But when she hadn’t called by four o’clock that afternoon to thank him for the flowers, he began to worry. Women usually called him immediately. Often, they came to his office. Sometimes they posted pictures of the flowers on Facebook and Twitter.
His cell rang and he smiled. He sat up straight and answered. “Tripp McCall.”
“Mr. McCall, it’s Nancy. I have a message for you.”
His assistant, and not his hottie high school ex. “Yes?”
“A Miss Hallman called and left a message.”
He grinned. “Go ahead.”
Nancy cleared her throat. “She said I was to specifically tell you ‘Ha ha.’”
“Ha ha?” Tripp was confused.
“That’s what she said. And not a funny ha ha, either.”
“Oh. That’s all?”
“That was her message, sir.”
“All right. Thank you, Nancy. If she calls again, feel free to give her my mobile number.”
“Are you certain?”
“Yes, I am.” He hung up. But he really didn’t think she’d be calling again. And he doubted she’d like the six-foot chocolate fountain that was set to arrive any minute.
***
It seemed like everyone at the office stopped by Chelsea’s desk on Friday to see if Tripp McCall had sent any other goodies. When his deliveries had arrived on Thursday, she’d given away the roses to a guy whose wife just had a baby and directed the deliveryman to set up the chocolate fountain in the lunchroom. People were eager for more surprises. Except for her.
“I don’t understand why you’re not excited about this,” Peggy from HR said, as a group of people crowded around the chocolate fountain, which was still running the next day. “One of the world’s most eligible bachelors is showering you with gifts and you look downright pissy.”
“He’s not doing it to be nice.”
“Oh, right. I forgot about those men who send roses to be mean.” She gave Chelsea a funny look.
“We have a history.” The sweet smell of chocolate was making Chelsea a little queasy.
Peggy’s eyebrows popped up. “And here I thought you were just a quiet little office mouse.”
Chelsea winced. “We went to high school together and it didn’t end pretty. But don’t worry, I’m going to see him tomorrow and I’m going to tell him to stop all this.” She walked down the hall toward the reception desk.
Peggy dropped her fondue fork and followed her. “Please don’t! We were hoping chocolate-covered strawberries might show up next.”
And with that, a deliveryman walked through the door. “Chelsea Hallman?” he asked.
Chelsea pointed to Peggy. “That’s her right there.”
He unloaded a tray of chocolate-covered fruit. Peggy was so excited she forgot to tip the guy, so Chelsea handed him a five.
Peggy picked up a piece of fruit from the tray. “Chocolate-covered kiwi. I had no idea…”
“Take it to the lunchroom and spread the word,” Chelsea said. “What a jerk.”
The deliveryman looked at her. “That’s not the typical response I hear when I show up.”
“Long story.”
“Must be.”
***
When three deliverymen showed up with a hundred balloons and a giant stuffed teddy bear by the end of the day, Chelsea rummaged through her desk for a pin.
“No!” Peggy said. “My son’s third birthday is tomorrow. I could use those. I only wish Tripp McCall could autograph one. No one will believe these were sent by him.” She gave Chelsea a look. “And no one would believe you aren’t interested.”
“It’s not that exactly,” Chelsea said.
“Oh, I know. You told me before. Blah, blah, pride, blah, blah, high school, blah, blah. Get over it. If he were sending me all these goodies, I would’ve handed in my two weeks’ notice and made sure something happened between us.”
“I’m not sure why he’s doing this, but it’s not to be sweet. I dumped him and this is some sort of payback.”
“Yeah, because nothing says revenge like chocolate and flowers,” Peggy said. She took thirty balloons, which left Chelsea with seventy more to get rid of. She couldn’t just release them into the sky. All she could picture were choking birds.
At five o’clock she gathered them up, passed out a few more to coworkers, and took the rest out the door. She could think of one place where the balloons might be appreciated. She started walking down the street, turning every head that passed. After enduring her share of honks and clown jokes, she’d walked the half mile to her grandpa’s retirement center. Chelsea wasn’t surprised to find her grandfather sitting in the atrium of the reception area. Grandpa loved the tropical foliage. His plans to be a snowbird hadn’t exactly worked out, so he improvised the best he could.
“Chelsea, darling! Have you taken up a new career? At a circus?” Grandpa asked.
“No, these were sent to me at work. Part of a prank, I think.”
“Sounds like something that boyfriend of yours in high school would’ve done. That one who’s a billionaire now.” He snapped his fingers. “Tripp McCall. Remember the time he brought a pony to your birthday party because you’d always wanted one?”
“I’m so glad you aren’t suffering the slightest bit of memory loss at your age, Grandpa.” Chelsea sighed. “And yes, Tripp sent these. And I don’t want them. So I thought they might add a festive atmosphere to the dining room. Maybe you guys can throw a party tonight. Make it a theme night.”
“We’re having liver tonight. Not much to celebrate there. But let’s take them down.” Grandpa took half the balloons and tucked his other hand through Chelsea’s free arm. “So, Tripp’s trying to court you again?”
Chelsea pressed her lips together. “No, no he is not. He is trying to show me I was a fool for breaking up with him.”
Grandpa patted Chelsea’s hand. “He was a nice young man. Good looker, too, wasn’t he?”
“Grandpa, you are not helping.”
“Why not? Sometimes when you let a good thing slip away you have to go after it.”
Chelsea shook her head. “It’s too late. He’d always think I was just after his money.”
They stopped in front of the dining room. “My dear girl, you’re twenty-eight. Nothing is too late.”
Chelsea laughed, still gripping the balloons. “Lots of things are too late. I screwed up college; my career is boring and going nowhere.”
“I’d give anything to be twenty-eight again. Your whole life is ahead of you.” Grandpa patted Chelsea’s hand. “Now stop it. You’re talking like an octogenarian. I hear enough of that around here. If you want to change your life, it’s up to you. And if you still love this guy, you have to take a chance and let him know. If he really is just trying to rub your nose in what you lost, then so be it. At least you’ll have taken a chance. You’ll have no regrets. No regrets—now that’s the secret to a good life.”
Chelsea said nothing and walked into the dining room. She tied the balloons to a railing leading to a small stage. Grandpa tied his to the opposite banister. “So what do you think, are you going to call him?”
Chelsea made a face. “I have to see him tomorrow.”
“Do it. Take a chance.”
“Maybe.”
Grandpa took her hand and squeezed it. He still had a strong grip. “Interesting lives are not made of maybes.”
“Stop being so wise. Couldn’t you try ornery for a change?”
Grandpa laughed and Chelsea kissed him goodbye and went home. She had to spill the news to Brandi sometime that Tripp was covering all their expenses. Reunionpalooza was about to erupt.
> ***
“Oh, my God!” Brandi screamed when Chelsea told her over the phone. “Do you know what this means?”
“That we don’t need a silent auction to raise money?” Chelsea suggested, holding the phone away from her ear.
“It means we are going to have the best reunion ever. Ever!” Brandi was probably bouncing on her bed.
“Well, not the best ever. Marti Klein didn’t return my call and Lucy Jordan did call back. Well, her assistant did, and said, and I quote, “There is no way in hell Ms. Jordan is coming back there.”
“Huh,” Brandi said. “Oh, well. We don’t need them. It’s going to be amazing anyway! Tripp McCall is bankrolling the whole thing!”
“I imagine he’s going to be setting a budget.”
“I bet it’s going to be a big budget.” Brandi squealed.
“I’ll find out and let you know. We’re looking at some reception sites tomorrow.”
“Imagine if you were saying that about your wedding.”
“Brandi…”
“Did you kiss him?” Brandi gasped. “Wait! You slept with him and that’s why he’s doing this. I can’t believe you’d do that for the reunion.”
“No!” She shouted and Pooky Two jumped off her lap. “Nothing happened and nothing’s going to happen. He just wanted to help us throw a great party.”
“Well, you’re going to sleep with him. Anyone would. I would. I will. Tell him I will if he’s interested. I will so sleep with him. Many times.”
Brandi would so sleep with anybody. She was certainly making up for her good-girl years in high school. “Goodbye, Brandi.”
***
Tripp was meeting Chelsea in half an hour. At first, he’d dressed in a suit. But he didn’t want to send the wrong signals that this was just business, so he changed into jeans and a long-sleeved tee, but that seemed too casual, so he put on button-down shirt, open at the collar.
“Dude, you’re acting like a girl,” Joe said. “I’m going to puke.”
“I’m just not sure how to act. I don’t want to blow this.”
“Is it just that you have something to prove to yourself?” Joe was using his voice of reason. “Chelsea was your high school girlfriend and she dumped you. And you’ve moved on from high school. You’ve moved on from this town. You’re the friggin’ king of the world. You deserve better than some girl who’s crawling back now that you’re loaded.”
“I really wish you felt more comfortable sharing your feelings with me, Joe.” Tripp glared at him. “Why do you seem to think our breakup shattered me?”
“You were miserable for weeks. I was there, remember?”
“Yeah, yeah.” Their breakup had hurt him more than Chelsea had probably known. Oh, he’d put on a big fake smile at school and tried to act like it was no big deal. He even made jokes about it. But when he was alone, it was hard to smile. He’d cried, even. Joe had been there to take him out, distract him, and introduce him to other girls. Then graduation came and he never saw Chelsea again.
He thought he’d put that heartache behind him, though. Dozens of the world’s most beautiful women should be able to help with that, right? But seeing her again brought back all the memories. He’d been smiling more than he had in a long time. He wanted to hear her throaty laugh—it would make an excellent ring tone. He wanted to make her grin. He wanted to kiss her under the stars like he used to.
Tripp went down to the lobby and started pacing. He replayed some of his favorite memories with her. The time they went to the movies and snuck into five different shows. Getting soaked when they snuck on the golf course to feed the geese in the pond and the sprinklers turned on. Huh, a lot of sneaking, he thought. But so many good times.
He looked at his watch. He’d been waiting for fifteen minutes. Of course, he’d gotten to the lobby twenty minutes before she was due. But then he saw her, dashing across the parking lot. She was beautiful. Even more beautiful than high school. Her long blond hair blew in the breeze and somehow her blue eyes seemed even bigger.
He crossed his arms and smiled when she walked in.
“Don’t you have a multibillion-dollar corporation to run? How do you always show up first?” she asked, her eyes twinkling. He wasn’t sure, but she looked happy to see him.
“It was a short walk. I’m staying in the penthouse here. I can give you a tour later, if you’d like,” he said.
“The penthouse. Of course that’s where you’re staying. You’ve come along way.”
“Surprise, surprise, right?”
Her smile fell and she looked at the ground. “Tripp, enough. I get it. You’re rich and successful now. You’ve evolved from the plastic squirting flowers. No need to send a tray of gold-plated fortune cookies stuffed with money on Monday to prove it. No more gifts. I gave the chocolate and flowers to everyone in the office and took the balloons to my grandpa’s retirement home down the street.”
“Did he like them?”
Chelsea gave him a dazzling smile. “Loved them. I talked to him this morning, and he said he couldn’t remember a happier dinner at that place. He got kisses from quite a few of the ladies.”
“Good. I’m glad. I always liked your grandfather. He taught me how to play poker. He’s the one who told me your favorite chocolate in the Whitman Sampler was the molasses chew. I thought he was kidding.”
She held up a hand. “Just stop, okay?”
He blew out a breath, frustrated. “Chelsea, I wasn’t trying to be a jerk by sending all that stuff. I was just trying to be nice—funny. Like the time I put plastic flamingoes in your yard when you turned eighteen. I guess I got carried away.”
She took a step back from him. “Your point was made. I know what I missed out on.”
What was she saying? He hadn’t been trying to make a point. Tripp was too stunned to say anything. And before he could even try to explain himself, the manager approached them. “Are you ready for the tour? The room is being set up for a wedding this afternoon, but let me go over the features.”
“Sure,” Tripp said. He and Chelsea followed him.
The manager walked them through the room. “We can accommodate three hundred people. Take a look around—I’ll be back in a few minutes to answer any questions.”
Tripp turned to Chelsea. “Our class had three hundred people. What if everyone comes and wants to bring a date? I don’t think it’s big enough.”
“So we limit tickets to the first one hundred fifty people. No way will everyone come.”
“What if Lucy Jordan comes? She’s a big-time singer, everyone will want to see her, pretend they were friends with her.”
“People were mean to her,” Chelsea said.
“You weren’t,” Tripp said.
“I should’ve said something when people were rude to her. And to Leah. Before she started dating Joe, that is.”
“You were a good person. Kind. Beautiful.” He pushed her hair over her shoulder.
She jerked back. “Why are you doing this?”
He said nothing and just stood there like a fool.
“Fine. I’ll just come out and say it. I was wrong about you. You proved me wrong, wrong, wrong. You did do something with your life after all. Consider my nose rubbed in it. I’m sorry I doubted you.”
“Are you done?”
“I suppose.”
“First of all, don’t be sorry,” Tripp said.
“What?”
“You were right. I was on the road to being nothing. I’d probably still be nothing but a goof-off if not for you.”
She twisted her hands in front of her. “What do you mean?”
“I was really mad when you broke up with me. I thought you just wanted someone who was going to be rich and successful. That money was really important to you.”
She shook her head. “That wasn’t it. I just wanted somebody with a plan. Somebody who was going to take on the future. I needed somebody thinking beyond high school pranks.”
He set his hands on
her shoulders. “I know. I know that now. Once I finally got over being mad at you, I realized I wanted to be somebody. That if I wanted to have someone like you, I had to have a plan. None of my success would’ve happened without you dumping me.”
“So, you’re thanking me?”
He took a step closer to her. “Your dumping me is the best thing that ever happened to me.”
“Oh.” Her chin dropped.
Tripp held up his hands. “Okay, that came out wrong. Your dumping me led me to great things. But I’d really like another chance with you, Chelsea.”
“Why? You could have anyone.”
“Because you liked me before I had money. You like my spaghetti.”
“You put sugar in it. Of course I like it.”
“Okay, because you’re a good kisser. Isn’t that reason enough?”
She blushed. “You held your own.”
“We were a good couple. I’d like to try it out again.”
“Tripp, you live in Dallas. Long distance would never work.”
He grabbed one of her hands. “Move to Dallas. You could be an office manager there, too.”
Chelsea pinched the bridge of her nose with her free hand. “I’ve got to get my own life together before I could make a commitment like that.”
He blinked and shook his head. “I don’t understand. You aren’t the slightest bit interested in finding out if we could make it work?”
“Yes. I am. But you know I had dreams. Dreams I never achieved. And now I’m floundering. I don’t know what I want.”
“What about me? Why can’t what you want be me?”
“I need something for myself. I need my own success. I can’t just live off yours. I’d always wonder what I could’ve been.”
“Couldn’t you figure that out in Dallas?”
“I’m sorry, Tripp.”