“Coast is clear, but the hallway smells like an entire high school of teenage boys doused themselves in cologne at the same time.” She smacks her lips together as we open all the windows in my office. “I’m probably going to taste that for the rest of the day.”

It’s not particularly warm out, but I’d rather freeze my nipples off than continue huffing cologne. I suck in several lungfuls of fresh air. “I think my olfactory senses are destroyed. Who the hell was that guy?”

“He used to deliver Alex’s flowers when I lived in the pool house.”

“Oh my God! I remember him! Didn’t he ask you out right after you told him you’d had Alex’s dick in your mouth?”

“That’s the one.”

“I don’t remember his cologne problem being that bad before.” I have to dab under my eyes to wipe away the tears since they’re still stinging.

“Maybe it’s gotten worse over time, like prolonged exposure to the flowers has made him incapable of smelling things.” Violet motions to the bouquet. “Are those from Darren?”

“I don’t know. Maybe?” I pluck the card from the bouquet, which is almost entirely comprised of yellow flowers with a few pinks and oranges thrown in. It’s like a sunrise. I dab my eyes again, telling myself it’s because they still sting from the cologne.

I slip the card out of its tiny yellow envelope. Darren’s neat writing fills the space.Violet’s chin rests on my shoulder. “Wow. That’s super sweet.”

“It really is.” And not like anything he’s ever done before. I mean, the flowers, yes. He surprised me with that bouquet and candy before, just never at work.

“Did you let him in your backdoor last night or something?”

“Seriously?” I elbow her and accidentally get her in the boob.

“Ow!” She staggers back, gripping it in both hands. “That really fucking hurt, Char!”

I roll my eyes. “Oh, come on.”

She keeps kneading her boob. “No, really. It feels like you tried to shave off my nipple with your pointy-ass elbow.” She looks down her shirt, as if she’s checking to make sure her nipple is indeed still attached to her body. “Remember how sore your boobs were when you were a teenager and they were just busting out?”

I shrug. “I guess.”

“It’s like that, but worse. They’ve been like this all week. Alex is getting frustrated that he can’t slide his dick between them.” She’s still kneading her boob with one hand and fingering the petals of a dahlia with the other. “I have a meeting in twenty, but I expect to hear all about what you did to inspire those flowers at lunch.” She nabs another granola bar from my desk and leaves me to it.

Darren calls before I have a chance to reach out and thank him for the flowers.

“I was about to message you,” I tell him.

“Were you now?”

I can almost see him smiling, and it makes my heart flutter.

“Someone sent me something beautiful.”

“Is that right? What kind of something beautiful?”

“Some very stunning flowers. They look like a sunrise.”

“So you like them?”

“I love them. They’re gorgeous. I’m not sure what I did to warrant them, but they’re certainly appreciated.” Why are there butterflies suddenly flitting around in my stomach?

“You don’t need to do anything to warrant something nice. If it was reasonable, I’d send you flowers every day.” He clears his throat, and I can hear water running in the background. “I wanted to check in with you before I head out this afternoon. Would it be okay for me to call you later tonight, once I’m settled in Toronto?”

“Of course.”

“And when I’m home, you’ll stay over again? If you’re not busy?”

“I’m available whenever you need me.”

“That would be always, Charlene. I’ll touch base when I’m in Toronto. Enjoy the flowers.”

“I will. Bye, Darren.”

He never ends a call with goodbye. I don’t know why. I stare at my phone for several long seconds as I roll what he said around in my head. “That would be always.”

With the recent revelation about his family, I’ve come to a few new realizations. Darren was essentially starved of affection as a child, and likely for his entire life, so his asking for my time is him trying to restrain his neediness. All those nights spent in his bed with him lying like Dracula was as much about giving me space as it was about being afraid to seek intimacy and be denied. It isn’t control he’s seeking, so much as a way to let go of the restraints placed on him.

Part of me loves being needed by him like this, but the other part worries that need turns into dependency, and that’s when things get dicey. Until now I’ve never allowed myself to get involved with someone to the point of needing them so acutely.

I don’t have time to fixate on it, though. My morning meeting and deleting my mom’s emails keep me too busy to be able to obsess. At noon, Violet peeks in my door and declares it’s lunchtime and she needs to eat all the Thai food because she’s starving to death.