Give Me Yesterday (12 page)

“Dr. Monroe,” Mrs. Schrage gasps when I saunter into her flower shop after class. “It’s Wednesday.
I think
.”

I chuckle because after years and years of coming here every Tuesday like clockwork, I’m sure she’s confused as to why I’m here on a Wednesday. Especially after having just been here yesterday.

“I need flowers. Happy ones. Ones that say, ‘You’re always on my mind and are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.’ Maybe some blue ones.”

She widens her eyes. Normally when I come in here, she has my order ready and we don’t converse much. Tuesdays usually leave me in a shitty mood and I’m sure it’s felt by all. Seeing me chipper probably sends more confusion bouncing around in her head.

“Um, well, let’s see. We have some tulips in your favorite color,” she starts but I wave her off.

“I want blue today.”

“Right, okay, well, we just had a shipment of the most gorgeous irises delivered today. Would you care to see them?”

I nod and lean against the counter while she shuffles off. Snatching a card from the rack, I scribble out a note to Tori.

Have dinner with me, beautiful. I hope these flowers brighten your day and you think of me no matter how hard you try not to. Pick you up at six. For the love of God, wear jeans woman. —C—

“Ahh,” Mrs. Schrager chirps, “here they are and they smell lovely.”

The moment I lay eyes on the dainty, blue flowers, I smile. They’ll compliment her bright blue eyes perfectly and hopefully bring a smile to her soft, pouty lips.

“I’ll take them.”

B
ack to myself, the woman I know and am comfortable with. I step through the glass doors of my office building, impeccably dressed in a maroon skirt with a slight flare just above the knee, white blouse, fitted jacket, subtle makeup, my standard five-inch stilettos, and not a hair out of place. I want to sigh at the feeling of safety, retreated behind my armor. This is my comfort zone.

I walk swiftly to the elevator, my heels clacking on the cold, marble floor. Every tap reminding me that Victoria, the Ice Queen, is back. I’ve left the messy, blubbering, vulnerable Tori back at Cha—
that place I was last night
. I’m not going to think about it, about him. Get it together Tor—
Victoria
.

In the elevator, I’m standing amongst a couple of first year associates from my firm, who are casting me curious glances, and one of the two girls even opens her mouth to speak to me. I lift a single brow and give them a frigid stare, effectively shutting her up before she can say anything. Great, Cha—
that guy from yesterday,
undermined the persona I’ve been cultivating for five damn years.
Jackass.
A sliver of guilt at my thoughts weasels its way into my chest, remembering how he was so sweet last night, not giving up on me, nor freaking out when I fell apart.

Whatever.

The ping of the elevator startles me and I step onto the plush, gray carpet, and give Janice, the receptionist, a nod. Her eyes are glued to me, almost like she is searching for something, I freeze her out like I did the associates, and she quickly turns back to her desk.
This is going to be exhausting.

Stacey is at her desk, tapping away on her computer. Her head lifts as though she sensed I was near. She smiles and stands, extending a mug of coffee to me, stopping me dead in my tracks. Stacey doesn’t smile at me. She doesn’t bring me coffee.
What the fuck?
Warmth seeps through the subzero aura I’ve put up. A trickle of something…fuzzy? I’m thrown off kilter a little, so I simply nod, take the coffee and step to the door of my office. Before I disappear inside, I turn back and stretch the unused muscles of my face into a small smile of thanks. Stacey’s smile grows, her face lighting up, and it’s the first time I notice that she’s really a very pretty girl, with her shoulder length, honey brown hair, expressive green eyes, and curvy figure. At the sight of her elation, the fuzzy feeling tickles my throat a little, so I continue on into my office.

My office is more my home than my apartment. There aren’t any personal photos, however there are multitudes of awards scattered among the walls and shelves. This place is my haven, where I rule in solitary, but not alone. Lowering myself into the ridiculously comfortable desk chair, I get to work. I have tons of catchup to do from my early leave yesterday.

I’m interrupted shortly after when Stacey softly knocks on my door and enters.

“What is it, Stacey? I’m very behind and I just got to work. Can it wait?” I keep the harshness out of my tone, but there is no mistaking my impatience.

Her step falters for a second, a look of uncertainty on her face. “Um, Ms. Larkin, it’s noon. You’ve been working for the last five hours without a break. You have a delivery and I thought maybe you’d like to order some lunch.”

I sigh, telling my inner bitch to back off, and try not to jump to conclusions in the future. “I’m sorry, Stacey.” Her eyes get wide. What the hell? I may be introverted, but it’s not like I was rude or didn’t speak to her at all in the past.
Want to try that again? Because I smell bullshit.
Was I that bad? Okay, new rule: aloof but present. “I misjudged the time. Thank you for being so efficient.”
Robot, robot, robot.
“Um, yes, please order me a salad from that place around the corner and go ahead and bring in the delivery. Um, and, thank you.”

She kicks up one side of her mouth in a secretive smile, and spins on her heel, returning to her desk. After a moment, she shuffles back in with the most beautiful bouquet of blue irises I have ever seen. They bloom up from a lovely glass vase, swirling with frosted etchings. The moment she enters, the fragrance permeates the air and the sweet smell fills my lungs. All of the oxygen rushes back out as my heart pumps wildly.

Stacey sets them on my desk, and passes me an accompanying note. She shuffles from foot to foot for a second and I can see that she really wants to stay and find out who they are from and what the note says. I open it, and tell her, “They are from Chase, the guy who dragged me out of here against my will yesterday.”

Stacey’s cheeks get pink with excitement, but that’s all I’m willing to share.

“Would you see about my lunch…please?” I tack that last word on, knowing I’m usually barking orders without thought. I don’t know why I feel the need to change these subtle things. My life is just the way I like it. See? This is why Chase is a bad influence and someone I should stay far away from.

Reluctantly, Stacey returns to her cubicle and once she is gone, the door firmly closed, I open the note and read it. The fuzzy feeling grows with each heavy beat of my heart, the warmth becoming a burn. I read it again and shake my head. He didn’t ask, he simply ordered me to have dinner with him. I should turn him down, just for that. I reach for the phone, but my hand stalls halfway there. I’m super busy, and he teaches today, I should wait until later to cancel.

I arrange the flowers on the glass coffee table in the center of my little conversation nook across the room. Twisting and turning the vase until I’m satisfied that I’ll have the best view of it from my desk. Then I get to work and don’t look at them again.
Liar, liar…
I don’t look at them much.
Pants on fire…
Ok, I glance at them every ten minutes or so, thinking of Chase, and enjoying the tickle in my chest that they bring.

After lunch I become engrossed once again, but am interrupted by the beeping of my intercom. I press the button and Stacey informs me that my mother is on hold. The warmth, the fuzz, the tickle, they all freeze, snuffed out by the bitter cold that sweeps over my body. I don’t like talking to my family. They refuse to accept my wishes, of not speaking about the past. Always forcing memories on me, pushing me to “accept” what happened and let go. I get angry and on its heels comes sadness. Chaotic emotions that I want no part of. I should have sent in that RSVP card with my regrets already, but I suppose I might as well take the call now and get it over with.

“Put her though, Stacey.” I shore up my strongest, thickest wall, preparing for the disappointment in her voice, and pick up the phone when it beeps again.

“Hello, Mother,” I answer.

“Victoria! I’m so glad you decided to come to the wedding! Danielle is ecstatic! It’s all she can talk about since we got your card!” Wait, I didn’t…

“Mother, there must be some kind—” I start.

“And a plus one!” She goes on without noticing I’d begun to speak. “Victoria, I’m so happy. I’m just so happy for my little girl. He must be very special for you to be bringing him home to a family wedding. I can’t tell you how excited we all are.”

Plus one? It dawns on me … I’m going to kill Stacey. My thoughts then go to Chase, and I realize this had to be a conspiracy from collaboration. They are both going to get skewered.

“I know you’re busy, darling. Always working too hard. So, you can tell me all about him this weekend.” Her voice gets thick and I fight not to bang my head down on the desk. Tears. I don’t do tears. “I’ll see you Saturday. I love you, Victoria. They would be happy that you’re moving on.” I stiffen, every muscle in my body tight. Anger emanates in waves, but before I can express my rage, she hangs up.

“Stacey!” I yell. “Get in here!” I take a few deep breaths, trying to calm myself.

She enters timidly, her eyes wary. “Is everything, okay?”

“What the hell were you thinking sending in that RSVP card accepting, and with a
plus one
?” My voice is getting progressively louder, and when I reach a full yell, she flinches.

“Chase marked it. I figured you had discussed it beforehand.”

She’s wringing her hands in front of her, and I’m not sure if she is making an excuse or not. Either way it’s done now, and she is the best assistant I’ve ever had, so it’s not like I’m going to fire her.

“Stacey, lets be very clear, you will
always
check with me before dealing with anything personal.” She nods, and tears are brimming in her eyes, “Now, go back to work, and we’ll forget this happened.” She sags in relief and beats a hasty retreat, back to her desk.

Now, as for that scheming, overly confident, obnoxiously determined tool. I snatch up my cell and scroll to his number, but before I hit call, I decide this needs to be dealt with in person. I need to cut things off, once and for all.

It’s five minutes to six when my phone buzzes, alerting me to a call from the front desk. Gary informs me that I have a guest and I tell him to send him up. It’s time he accepts the real me, so I’m inviting him into my home, the sterile, cold environment a reflection of myself. I wait by the door, checking to make sure I am completely put together, still in my work suit. The doorbell rings and I swing it open, gesturing for him to enter.

An unwelcome surge of heat spirals through me at the sight of him. He looks good, really fucking good. His jeans ride low on his hips, a loose Cubs jersey hangs off of his broad shoulders, blue and white Converse on his feet, and that damn dimple peeking out when he smiles at me. His brown eyes become even darker behind the lenses of his glasses, when he sees me. Before I can say anything, he snakes a hand around my waist, yanking me into his hard chest, and blowing my mind with the best hello kiss I’ve ever had.