A Few Flowers Part 12

Nothing, he mumbled, shaking his head. In moving, the softness of her fragrant hair brushed against his face. She smelled like flowers. Tomorrow, he would send extra special flowers. Roses. For love. Never mind.

Cindy stiffened in his arms, then squirmed. Excuse me, I have to use your washroom. She glanced from side to side, then down the hall.

Monty released her and pointed. Second door on the left. He watched her shuffle away, missing her warmth the second they separated. Hed lost his heart to a wonderful Christian woman. He prayed that one day soon, Cindy would be his lifelong partner.

Monty smiled as he heard the washroom door click closed. He wasnt going to say anything yet, not looking and feeling like this. When he could present himself properly, he would show Cindy what she meant to him. With cla.s.s and dignity. And G.o.ds continued blessing.

Cindy sagged against the washroom door the second she closed it behind her. Hed called her an angel. His special angel.

She caught her reflection in the mirror. Her hair was a mess, she had a zit on her chin, and a small scar beside her left eye from when she fell out of a tree trying to escape out her bedroom window as a teen. She was no angel. Cindy squeezed her eyes shut.

Snippets of conversation started falling into place. Last weekend theyd talked for hours about many things, including angels. He had briefly mentioned that at the exact moment he thought he was going to die, he heard an angels voice and felt an angels touch. Before she had time to think about the ramifications of that statement, he had changed to another fascinating topic, and she hadnt thought about it anymore. Now his words flashed before her like a neon sign.

She remembered praying for him just as he pa.s.sed out at the accident scene. And during the process of her first aid, her constant checks to see if he was still breathing and that his heartbeat remained strong, her hands had been all over him. Was it her prayer that he thought was the voice of this angel? She felt sick at the thought that he could be basing his Christianity on what he thought was a vision when all it was, was her.

Shed always wondered what it would be like to lead someone to make a decision to follow Jesus Christ as their Lord and Savior. But not by being a supernatural being. Nooo. . . , she groaned aloud, letting her voice trail off, burying her face in her hands.

Cindy lowered her hands slowly, dragging them down her face until she stared at herself in the mirror once again. Whatever Monty thought about angels, she could never live up to such expectations.

Her mind went blank. Instead of concentrating on the problem at hand, she checked out the layout and decor of Montys washroom, which was as big as her bedroom. Not only did he have a huge whirlpool tub in the corner, but also, partly recessed in the wall in the opposite corner was an octagon etched-gla.s.s shower stall. A pair of the biggest, fluffiest towels she had ever seen hung on the wall. Like the living room, the colors were rich and deep and just the right blends for a perfect match.

She studied the vanity, a huge solid marble unit with double sinks. Like his office, his home"at least what shed seen of it so far"was as neat as a pin and meticulously organized. Nothing on the vanity sat out of place. A blow dryer hung neatly on the wall and the soap dish and a toothbrush holder were lined in perfect order. The only thing that didnt quite belong was a familiar-looking spray decanter.

Cindy picked up the bottle. It was her favorite perfume. First she confirmed that there was only one toothbrush in the holder. Then, she tilted the bottle slightly to confirm that it was nearly full. She didnt know who it could belong to other than another woman with whom Monty would have dissolved a relations.h.i.+p so he could pursue her, the angel in his vision, a role she could never and would never aspire to.

Cindy forced herself to breathe. Aside from his angel delusion, he was a wonderful man, one she deeply wished she could have met another way. Knowing what she knew now, this time would definitely have to be the last time she saw him.

Cindy squeezed her eyes shut as she felt her heart break in two. Their relations.h.i.+p, based on the circ.u.mstances of their initial contact, had been doomed from the start. Lately, because of her own selfish desires, shed fooled herself into believing otherwise.

She left the large washroom and walked into the living room, where she picked up the contract and sat beside him. If I hurry, I can be on time for the meeting.

She could feel Monty staring at her as she carefully pulled the papers out of the envelope and picked through them. Nothing has changed except the last couple of pages. Do you want to go through the whole thing or just the amendments?

The amendments would be fine. I trust you.

In seconds flat, she whipped a pen out of her purse and laid it, along with the new pages, on the coffee table in front of him. Im sure you know where to sign. Ill witness it for you.

As soon as he dutifully signed everything, Cindy stood. She plucked the pen and paper from his fingers, stuffed everything back into the envelope, and turned to the door.

Dont get up. Ill lock the door on my way out. One last time, she had to touch him as her way of letting him know, in the only way she could, what he meant to her. Very gently, she ran her fingertips along the smooth part of his cheek. Her voice came out in a choked rasp. Take care of yourself, Monty.

Before she changed her mind, she turned around and left.

Monty leaned against the wall beside the entrance to his office and hung his cane over his arm in order to fish his keys out of his pocket. He probably should have given himself at least another day, but three missed days of work and a lost weekend were enough. He hadnt called Cindy since shed seen him because he didnt want to talk to her from his bed while half stoned on painkillers. Today he had cut back, and he was going to phone her from the dignified setting of his office with a clear head.

Once inside, Monty slowly and awkwardly made his way across the room to his private office and dropped himself into his chair while he waited for the aftereffects of the exertion to pa.s.s. Today, the farthest he planned to go from his desk was the washroom. He made a mental note to cut down on his coffee consumption as he turned his computer on and waited for it to boot up.

In the silence of the empty office, Monty smirked to himself as he held up the disks for his new game, Princes Perils. The youth group had enjoyed it, and since its conception, he had added a number of revisions and modifications, not to mention a major name change, although he still had to admit he liked the original name. He only needed to run a few more tests, and he would be ready to register the copyright and then market the game. He patted his pocket with great satisfaction, especially considering his sour mood at his initial inspiration for the concept of the game.

Monty reached toward his filing cabinet, unconsciously using his left foot to steady himself against the chair leg as he opened the drawer. A sharp stab of pain as he pulled caused him to freeze and catch his breath. He forced himself to exhale while the pain subsided. It served as a poignant reminder to be more careful, even with these simple automatic actions.

Hed nearly forgotten what it had been like in the first month he was finally able to return to the office. This time, though, he antic.i.p.ated a quicker recovery. Fortunately, today he already felt better than yesterday.

Cindy was right, he had been feeling sorry for himself. Hed almost thought he was losing it, but hed looked up possible side effects of the medications, and one of them was depression. Now that he knew, he could deal with it.

Gla.s.ses perched on his nose, he raised his hands to the keyboard, ready to begin typing, when Agnes burst through the main door, earlier than usual, he noted. She stomped past her desk, scooped something out of her basket, and then strode straight for him. He had hoped to clear up some of the backlog before he had to deal with whatever Agnes had acc.u.mulated in his absence.

He laid his gla.s.ses on the desktop, folded his hands, and rested them on the edge of the keyboard as she barged into his office. Good morning, Agnes. And what volume of urgent correspondence do you have for me today?

What are you doing here, Montgomery?

So glad to see you, too, and it is a good morning. He tried very hard not to laugh as Agness expression tightened. Where was this woman when he was growing up? He wondered about her children, and most of all, her husband, who surely had a backbone of steel. They were celebrating their anniversary soon, according to Agnes, thirty-five wonderful years, although he couldnt imagine thirty-five years with her being wonderful.

Agnes crossed her arms, frowning at him. Very funny.

He smiled in answer to her scowl. Im attempting to get caught up, Agnes. Shouldnt you be, too?

She dropped a veritable mountain of paper on the corner of his desk. I am caught up.

Monty lost his self-satisfied smirk and sagged, letting out a rush of air. Whats all this?

You left early Friday, remember. And you left on time every day of the week except one. Imagine my surprise when I discovered you hadnt done anything on the weekend. Or the last three days. And dont think I cant tell when youre here all weekend, or working at home and networking it over here.

He groaned.

She placed her palm on his computer monitor, feeling its temperature. Hed just turned it on, so it was still cold. You just got here. Or you would have already known what I was going to give you. Do you have any idea how far behind youre getting?

Monty dragged one hand down his face. I give up. Hire someone. I can start interviews immediately. Cancel my appointments for the rest of the week unless they want to come here, and make sure none of them are for lunch. Rebook the rest. Im not leaving my office. I dont care if they say its urgent.

That does it. Now I know youre not supposed to be out of bed. Im calling an ambulance.

Agnes, Im fine.

No, youre not. Youre. . . Youre. . . Agness eyes widened, and her frown was replaced by a glowing smile. She raised her palms to her cheeks. Youre in LOOOOOOVE!

Monty buried his face in his hands. His private life was just that. Private. He was their boss, not their pal, and that meant he kept his distance, which was the way he preferred things anyway.

He raised his head and opened his mouth, but Agnes beat him to it.

Its about time. She wagged one finger in the air.

Dont you have some work to do?

She shook her head. Its all done. And sitting on the corner of your desk.

Agnes, youre fired.

As usual, Agnes ignored him. She patted the top of the pile, then dutifully straightened it, matching up the papers to form a perfect stack. The courier will be here in two hours for these letters.

He sighed loudly, welcoming the change of topic. Theyll be ready, Agnes.

And dont forget your appointment with Dennis Bancroft. h.e.l.l be here at ten oclock. I heard he recently got married. She sighed airily.

Monty ignored her not-so-subtle hint. Besides, the idea of getting married now appealed to him like never before. Thank you, Agnes.

Let me remind you that the Carolina project is due in three days. Ive ordered another case of blanks for tomorrow and I placed another order with the printer for the instruction manuals. The latest figures indicate its another winner. I knew it would be.

Thank you, Agnes.

And if you want my opinion on the Debonair contract. . .

Monty couldnt stand it anymore. He opened his mouth to tell her he knew exactly what was lined up, but she beat him to the draw again.

Never mind. Ill send you an E-mail.

He glanced at her desk across the room. He didnt doubt that she would.

Agnes patted the pile of paperwork once more, turned, and left. Despite her sharp tongue and questionable respect for his position, Monty appreciated her from the depths of his heart. She had proven herself to be an invaluable a.s.set to both the company and to him personally. He made himself a note to give her a gift on her anniversary and began signing the letters.

He managed to work without interruption all morning, except for the few minutes he set aside every day to phone the florist.

Knowing he wasnt going to be mobile enough to take Cindy out for lunch made him miss her even more. Hed taken her out almost every day last week, a habit he could quickly get used to. If he closed his eyes, he could picture her smile. Monty picked up the phone and dialed Circuits, Inc.

Twelve.

Cindy ran her fingers on the velvety petals and inhaled the heady fragrance of the latest bouquet. This time it was three roses, red, yellow, and white. The very first bouquet he had sent was a dozen roses. She hadnt thought twice about it then, other than to admire their simple beauty. This time the thought terrified her. Roses were the flowers of love.

Rather than dwell on it, she convinced herself that the florist had simply run out of different variations; after all, by now Monty surely had used up all combinations of flowers in his chosen pattern of colors.

No matter how hard she tried to concentrate, she couldnt get Monty out of her head. Despite her best efforts to submerge herself in her job, every time she moved, their heady aroma drifted toward her, teasing her, reminding her of him. She placed the flowers on the farthest corner of her desk, but it didnt help. As the temperature rose outside, the air-conditioning kicked on, blowing the fragrance on her anyway.

Cindy couldnt stand it. She was about to give them to one of the secretaries when the phone rang.

Hi, Cindy, a flowing deep voice purred over the phone. Busy for lunch?

Just what she didnt need today. h.e.l.lo, Glen. Ill see if Robert is free.

Without giving him a chance to respond, she hit the hold b.u.t.ton and buzzed Roberts office. Before she replaced the handset, the second line lit up.

Hi, Cindy. I miss you.

A s.h.i.+ver ran through her, but she didnt know if it was antic.i.p.ation or a bad case of nerves. Hi, Monty. Roberts line is busy. Would you like to hold?

Im not calling for Robert. I want to talk to you.

Her heart pounded and she willed her hands to stop shaking, but they couldnt, so she held onto the phone with both hands for dear life, swiveling in the chair so the other secretaries couldnt watch her as she spoke. Sounds like youre feeling better. How are you? I guess youre calling from the office.

Yes, Im feeling much better. Id really like to take you out for lunch, but Im confining myself to my office at least until the end of the week. Would you like to pick something up and join me here? Or I can have something delivered, whichever you prefer.

I think Id prefer to. . . She swallowed a breath of air. Im really too busy. Im going to work through lunch.

Oh.

He sounded so disappointed she almost gave in. Im sorry, but I have to go now. Ill catch you another time, okay?

Oh. Okay. Well, another time. Bye, Cindy.

She mumbled a quick good-bye and hung up the phone. She felt like a heel.

By the time lunch rolled around, Cindys stomach rumbled. To make matters worse, shed been so distracted when she left the house that shed forgotten her lunch on the counter.

She hadnt lied. She really was busy, although not so busy that she was required to work through lunch break. However, rather than make a liar out of herself, she ran across the street to the deli for a sandwich, intending to run back and eat it at her desk while she worked. As she stood in line, Troy appeared beside her.

Buying a sub at the lowly local deli? He glanced behind them at the growing line, then back to her. Not going out with Mr. Upwardly Mobile today?

Troy, stop it.

They stepped forward as the line moved. So, is this thing with him serious?

Thing? Cindy cringed. The word made the relations.h.i.+p sound cheap and tawdry. Montys intentions were nothing but honorable, however misplaced. Shed never met anyone like him before and likely never would again. The thing between them would have been perfect, if not for his angel delusions.

I dont know, she replied, not knowing what to say to Troy. Not that it mattered. The thing was now over.

Ill bet youre wondering why Im asking.

Cindy didnt think she wanted to hear it, but she could no longer handle Troys animosity toward Monty. Monty may have been living in a fantasy about her, but he didnt deserve the way Troy was treating him. Not really. But youre probably going to tell me anyway.

He glanced from side to side, then back to Cindy. Im only saying this as a friend. He paused as they stepped forward in the line. They were next.

Go ahead, she said, narrowing her eyes.

Troy hunched his shoulders to minimize his height. After spending so much time with Monty, looking eye to eye with him, she wasnt used to Troys height anymore. The thought scared her.

What do you know about him? Are you sure hes not just using you?

Using me?