Everything for Her

by Alexa Riley

  When I saw the flowers, I knew right away he’d sent them. No card was needed, but I pull it out anyway, wanting to see what he has to say for himself. Seeing his beautiful, neat handwriting does something to my insides, but I try to ignore it.

  Mallory,

  Nothing is as lovely as you.

  Missing your beauty.

  Love, Oz

  The blush on my cheeks deepens, and I sit in my chair, trying to think of what to do next. Do I thank him for the flowers? I’ve never gotten flowers from anyone before. God, why does he have to be so...so...charming? He makes it hard to be mad and I want to hang on to that anger. I can’t let him steamroll over me.

  Placing the note in my bag, I go back to work, wanting to think about my response before I give him an answer. If I even will.

  It turns out I don’t have time to think of a response before the next bouquet is delivered. This time it’s a larger arrangement of lavender dahlias. Eric perks up at this and asks if it’s my birthday. Skyler rolls her eyes at him. I wait until I have a moment alone before I read the note.

  Mallory,

  Nothing is more precious than your touch.

  Missing the feel of your softness.

  Love, Oz

  I grab my phone from my bag and squeeze it. I want to turn it on and text him, but I know I have to stay strong, too. This man lied to me, and I need some space to think over what I want. But instead he insists on doing things that are going to make me break; I know it, and a small part of me wants to know what he’ll do next.

  The next delivery of flowers arrives an hour later, and so goes the rest of my day at work. I spread them all over the department, so I won’t have all of my work space taken up. People ask questions, but Skyler helps me out with that. She says it’s a joke, and people shrug it off.

  All day the notes come, and I keep every one of them, each one melting me more and more, breaking down my anger. He sends red tulips, peach plumeria, violets, hydrangeas, and even a bouquet with bells of Ireland. Every arrangement is beautiful and special. They aren’t your typical flowers—each of these looks to have been specially picked—and I know in my heart he did that.

  Finally, before quitting time and hopefully after the last delivery, I turn on my phone to send him a quick text. I don’t know if I’m strong enough for more.

  Me: Thank you. For all of them. They were overwhelmingly beautiful.

  His response is instant. Like he’s been waiting all day, and maybe he has.

  Oz: You deserve a thousand more.

  Me: I wouldn’t know where to put them.

  I smile and it feels nice. God, I want to forgive him and run into his arms. But I asked for space and I need to take it.

  Oz: I would build you a castle, if only you would ask.

  Me: Maybe one day.

  I bite my lip, thinking maybe I shouldn’t have said that. Damn it. I have to be stronger, I tell myself, but it’s hard when someone makes you feel like you’re so important to them. But then I let out a sigh and put my phone back in my bag. I decide to leave the flowers at work so I can enjoy them longer. I head out and meet Paige in the lobby. I don’t need her for the walk home, but it’s nice walking with her again.

  When we get to the apartment, she pulls out her key, unlocking the door and stepping inside.

  “Holy shit,” she says, and I try to look around her.

  The scent hits me before I can see what’s beyond her, and when she steps to the side, I see it.

  “He said I deserved a thousand more,” I whisper as I look around the room.

  Flowers are on every inch of every surface, and they’re all exquisite. I stand there stunned and tears sting my eyes. My man behind the curtain will not give up so easily.

  Wednesday

  “Delivery for—”

  “Right here,” Skyler says, standing up and looking over our cubicle wall.

  I put my bag away and turn around. I haven’t been here ten minutes and it’s started again already? When I see the man standing there without flowers, confusion hits me.

  “Mallory Sullivan?” he queries.

  I nod and wait.

  “Sign here, please.”

  He hands me a small clipboard and I sign for whatever it is I’m supposed to get. He takes the paper and hands me a long, slender, black box tied with an ivory ribbon. It’s an odd size, but I take it to my desk and sit down with it. Looking up, I see Skyler sigh and duck away again. I hear Eric coming in late, and I wait until he’s seated, too.

  I untie the ribbon and open the box and see a piece of paper and a pen inside. I read the note and look up to see the deliveryman still there. And then I laugh. It’s the first time I’ve laughed in days, and it feels foreign but so nice.

  I read the note again, debating if I should play with him but I can’t deny the smile and flutter that strikes me. It’s nice to not be so sad and I want to soak this moment up even if I’m still mad at him. I tell myself this is for me and not for him. I pull out the pen, doing as the note instructs, and put the paper back inside the box, tie the ribbon and hand it back to the delivery guy. He takes it and turns on his heels.

  On the note was a hangman’s pole and blank spaces at the bottom. Oz said he wanted to play a game with me, and though it sounds ridiculous, it was so adorable I couldn’t help but melt a little more. He’s slowly chipping away at the anger I’m trying to hold on to.

  I go back to work, pushing Oz out of my mind, keeping busy. About an hour later the delivery guy is back with the same little box. I sign again and he waits while I unwrap the ribbon and read the note.

  I’d guessed the letter L and it was no good. So I try the letter S this time and send it back with the delivery guy.

  All day Oz and I play back and forth. Each time I got one wrong, he drew a piece of the man on the hangman’s pole. When I got one right, he would fill in the places where the letters went.

  Right before five o’clock, I get the last delivery of the box and solve the puzzle.

  A DREAM IS A WISH YOUR HEART MAKES

  I’d solved it long before lunch, but who would stop a game like this? I’d smiled all day, feeling lighter than I have in ages.

  When I get home, there’s been a delivery of dinner from this amazing Italian place, and Paige and I eat until we can hardly walk. She doesn’t ask who it was from. We both know.

  Thursday

  I’m starting to crack. But I’ve made it this long. I didn’t text or email him all day yesterday even though I’d wanted to. I would start to, then stop each time. I feel like I’m fighting more with myself at this point than Oz. I can wait a little longer. Every time I try and remember why I’m mad at him, I end up defending him. Maybe because of what Paige had told me. All Oz wanted to do was protect me. Something no one has ever cared to do for me in my life. I’m excited to see what he has in store for today.

  I’m at my desk sipping my coffee when a woman dressed in a black suit comes over to me.

  “Ms. Sullivan?”

  I nod a little nervously. I wonder if I’m in trouble. She pulls out an envelope and hands it to me, walking away right after.

  “Another game?” Skyler asks as she walks by my desk.

  I smile and turn away from her, opening the envelope. Inside I find two pieces of parchment paper and a pressed four-leaf clover in between them.

  The clover looks old but perfectly preserved between the pieces of parchment. I look back down inside the envelope and see a note I’d missed the first time.

  Pulling it out, I see Oz’s beautiful script and begin to read.

  My Mallory,

  The first time I saw you was a long time ago. I’d love to tell you about that day and every day until the moment we met. When you’re ready, I will, but until then I want you to have this.


  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.

  “I’m here to see Miles,” I say, and find the situation has put me a little at ease. I don’t know what I was prepared for, but certainly not this. I think I expected an old rigid assistant or a young bimbo, but this woman seems kind of dorky in an adorable kind of way.

  “Do you have an appointment?” she asks, turning to her computer and scanning the screen.

  “No. Can you tell him it’s Mallory?” I try. Maybe if he knows I’m here, he can make time to see me.

  “Ms. Mallory Sullivan?” the assistant asks.

  When I nod, she stands up out of her chair, nearly knocking it over in the process. “Please. This way.” She sounds hurried as she leads me over to large double doors with ornate carvings. She knocks half a second before opening the door and announcing our entrance. “Mr. Osbourne, Ms. Sullivan is here.”

  I take a step around his assistant and see Miles on the other side of the room. He stands slowly, almost in shock that I’m here.

  “Thank you, Jay. Please see that I’m undisturbed,” he says, not taking his eyes off me.

  “Yes, sir,” she says, closing the large door behind us.

  I hear the locks engage, and I narrow my eyes at Oz. He holds up a remote in his hand and shrugs one shoulder. It’s as if he knows he’s crazy, but he either can’t help himself or can’t be bothered to care about his behavior. He takes a step toward me, but then seems to think better of it and stands still.

  The silence hangs between us, heavy with unspoken words.

  After what feels like an eternity, but is really only a heartbeat, I decide I have to be the one to speak.

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “You don’t even know what I’m thanking you for,” I say, letting out a little laugh.

  “If something I did made you happy, then I hope to do it again. Often.”

  As if emboldened by my words, he comes out from behind his desk, coming to stand in front of me. He’s not within touching distance, but that has never mattered before. We could be on separate tectonic plates and I think I would still sense his presence.

  “Singing telegrams are over-the-top,” I say, almost accusingly, but can’t help my smile as I think of all those people dressed up and singing to me today.

 
“Yes,” he agrees, not denying it was inappropriate. His eyes crinkle at the edges, and his smile shows the dimples I’ve been missing.

  “I thought the man behind the curtain was supposed to be mysterious.”

  I finally look away from his penetrating sapphires because I fear that if I look at him a second longer, I’ll end up in his arms. I have to stay strong. We have to talk about all of this.

  “I think we’re past the mystery, Mallory. I think we’ve reached the point where there should be no secrets left between us.”

  Looking around his office, I see that he has a beautiful view of the city behind him, but nothing much else in the room. There’s a bookshelf to my left, and a giant television to my right. The screen is split into sections, each scrolling stocks and investment channels.

  “The garden was beautiful,” I whisper, looking anywhere but at him.

  He steps forward, and his scent assaults me. The warm amber and honey surrounds me in a comforting embrace that I didn’t know I needed.

  “I want to tell you about it. About everything. Let me explain, Mallory. Please.”

  He still doesn’t touch me and I’m thankful for it. Because I’m not sure I’m strong enough to push him away again. I can tell he’s fighting himself, see the tension in his shoulders, his fist clenched tight as he stands there trying to play it calm and cool, but I can read him better now. See how he holds himself back with me, for me. I’ve missed him so much. Not talking to him the past few days has hollowed me out. A piece of me missing.

  “Oz.” I say his name, but I have no idea what I want to say after. Take me? Leave me alone? Push past all this bullshit and make me understand?

  “Have dinner with me. I’ll explain everything to you.”

  I look up and see the pain in his eyes. Hating seeing it there because no matter what I might have told myself, I care about this man and it hurts to see him hurt. How can a man who hardly knows me love me like this? He’s fighting himself for me. This is insane, and I want to shout that it’s also completely impossible and he should snap out of it. But then my heart chimes in, and I can’t. I know what he’s feeling isn’t one-sided, and I don’t know what to do with all of these emotions.