Chapter 208
But then she remembered how he’d messed with her that morning, and any urge to thank him just slipped away.
Still, it was pretty surprising that Latham knew she liked pink roses. She almost never wore pink, so it wasn’t exactly obvious. The gesture caught her off guard in a good way.
Someone at the office grinned at her. “Dorothea, did your boyfriend give you those p>
She stood out as she left work, the giant bouquet of roses impossible to miss. Dorothea shot the receptionist a smile. “Nope, my husband sent them p>
Honestly, there was no one else she could think of who’d send her flowers except Latham.
So, when she strolled into the house with the bouquet on full display, not hiding it for a second, Latham looked up and squinted, clearly not expecting it.
Pauline was all smiles. “Those are gorgeous. Latham gave them to you, right p>
Dorothea nodded but didn’t look at Latham, who was lounging on the sofa. She handed the flowers to Linda. “Would you mind putting these in a vase p>
Across the room, Latham’s face went cold.
“Ah, young people these days,” someone said with a chuckle. “You really know how to be romantic p>
Latham forced a smile. “Grandma, I might be young, but I didn’t send those.” Everyone paused, taken aback.
Dorothea looked at him, eyes wide. “You didn’t p>
His jaw tightened. “Babe, you just brought home flowers from someone else, right out in the open. Don’t you think that’s a bit much p>
Dorothea pressed her lips together, embarrassed. “Sorry. I really thought they were from you p>
Linda hesitated, holding the bouquet. “So… what should I do with these? Should I throw them out or put them in a vase p>
The flowers were honestly beautiful.
Latham huffed and pretended to be annoyed. “Isn’t there a card p>
“There is!” Dorothea pulled out the card she’d kept in her bag. “There’s no name on
it. I just assumed it was from you p>
He glanced at it. “Dorothea, does this look like my handwriting p>
She blinked, at a loss.
How would she even know what his handwriting looked like?
“Linda, hand me the flowers.” Latham took the bouquet and walked out the front door.
Dorothea figured he’d just toss them in the trash.
Instead, Latham handed the
over-the-top pink bouquet to his
UT
driver, Aldin: “I sent you the address. Drop these in the garbage can outside their front door. Don’t just toss them inside. Leave them right or the lid so everyone passing by will see p>
“Got it, sir p>
Ever since Latham got married, his orders had just gotten weirder and weirder.
Albert had known for years that Dorothea loved pink roses. He’d sent her a bouquet for her birthday once and still remembered how happy she’d been, crying tears of joy.
After that, he’d missed her birthdays, never sent flowers again.
Today, he sent the pink roses on purpose, hoping she’d remember him. He even asked the florist to write the card by hand.
He waited all afternoon for Dorothea to call, but never heard from her.
He hung around near her office until he saw her get into her car with the flowers, and finally let out a breath of relief.
At least she didn’t throw them out. If he had to, he’d just send a bouquet every single day.
Later, someone called out, “There’s a huge bouquet of pink roses dumped outside p>
The Clark Estate was made up of big standalone houses, not close to the neighbors. Who would leave flowers right at their front door?
Albert’s eyes narrowed. He strode outside, and when he saw the card tucked between the blooms-the same one he’d asked the florist to write he was stunned Dorothea had actually thrown them away.
A second later, his phone buzzed. Someone tagged him in the group chat. [Latham: I returned the flowers you sent my wife. Just a heads-up. Stay away from her, or don’t blame me if Clark Group’s stock tanks tomorrow. @Albert]