6. Chapter 6

A nother order for delivery to the same office—only this time it didn't request delivery by owner—but I was going to go, anyway. A chance to see the man from the wedding again wasn't something I could pass up. I wasn't sure why, but I felt compelled to know more about him. Was it pure coincidence that we had been at the same wedding, or had they been looking for a florist and my name had come up?

This bouquet was much smaller than the other one I'd delivered, and it had a single name on it instead of a department. A single man's name. Curiouser and curiouser.

The older woman at the front desk lit up when she saw me. "Marley, what a pleasant surprise. I didn't expect to see you again so soon, or ever, for that matter. You should have seen the way this place was all atwitter when you brought those flowers last week. And to think they were from Mr. Marten, well, I'll just say that it was unexpected."

"The best gifts usually are, Francie. And I actually have another order that came from the very same Mr. Marten."

Her eyes widened before she schooled her features. "Unexpected, indeed. Oh! Maybe it's for research. He does that sometimes. Orders a competitor's product to test and compare. Is it for the same department?"

Competitor? There were a lot of florists, especially those with online services. Is that what it could be? I didn't know how to feel about being used for research.

"No, these are for a Paul…um…Howard. Could you point me in the right direction?"

"Really? Hmm…unexpected." Apparently, that was the word for the day. "Sure. Let's get you your visitor pass. You're sure those are from Mr. Marten?"

"Yes, ma'am. That's what my paperwork says."

"Huh. Well, then, I shouldn't keep you any longer."

The woman handed me my sticker and gave me instructions to find the recipient. His desk was at the end of a long hallway, outside of a wall full of windows and a door. The windows were blocked by blinds, though I thought I caught a flash of movement behind them. I stared at them for a moment until a light cough caught my attention.

"Can I help you?"

I faced the man who stood behind his desk, arms over his chest and a brow arched high as he took me in .

"Hi, are you Mr. Howard?"

Surprise flashed across his face. "Yes. Yes, that's me."

"Okay, great. I have a special delivery for you." I held out the bouquet.

"For me? Really?"

The shock might have been comical if I wasn't so busy trying to catch a glimpse of the man I'd run into last time. "Yup. From a Mr. Marten."

His mouth gaped as though he were trying to find words to say. In the silence, I realized when I was here before, he had been standing with the man I was seeking. He made no move to take the flowers from me, so I set them on his desk.

"I was wondering…the man that was with you last time I was here? Would you happen to know where I might find him?" Did I have any right to look for him? So we had attended the same wedding, that didn't mean anything. A lot of people were at that wedding.

"Derek Marten? Why?"

"Oh! He's Mr. Marten?" If he was the one that had placed the order, why had he seemed so put off when he'd seen me?

"That he is. Do you have business with him? I don't have any visitors on my calendar." His eyes flicked down to the peonies on his desk, then back up to me. It was like something clicked and a knowing smile stretched his lips. "You know what? "

The change in his expression was a little unnerving. Maybe I didn't want to know who the random man was. "Um…what?"

"Mr. Marten has asked not to be disturbed, but I feel like he would make an exception this time."

Before I could back out, Paul was on his phone, announcing a guest. A moment later, he pointed to the door at the left of his desk with a wry grin.

Welp, I was in it now, might as well make the most of it. I straightened and strutted to the door and gave it a rat-a-tat-tat.

The door flew open. "I said I didn't want any visitors." The man bit out before looking at me. His dark hazel eyes blew wide when he saw me and his mouth formed an O.

"I'm sorry. I didn't realize. I thought it was my assistant who could have given me some warning." The man standing in front of me cut a glaring look over at Paul, who simply held the vase of flowers and wiggled his fingers. Okay, not sure what that was about.

"I didn't mean to bother you. You're clearly busy. I just wanted to say hi." Now that I was face to face with him, well, forehead to chin, I wasn't exactly sure what I'd been hoping for. Derek Marten had about five inches on my five-foot-eight frame. His dark facial hair was perfectly trimmed and the short black hair speckled with gray gave him a sophisticated and sexy appearance .

"It's fine. You're not bothering me." His eyes darted around behind me. "Would you like to come in?"

That was, to quote Francie, ‘ unexpected . ' "Um, sure. That sounds nice. Are you sure it's alright?"

He huffed out a breath before nodding and holding his arm out to welcome me in. I did as he indicated, stepping into the private office with the windows all shuttered. It was a fairly big office, like ones I'd seen on TV or in movies, usually reserved for the uppity-ups of the company.

A large, dark wooden desk with a fancy leather blotter commanded attention in the room. Across from it was a couch and a couple of armchairs, as if meetings or social events happened here. My office in the shop was essentially what used to be a closet, that barely had room for a filing cabinet and a chair.

"Wow, this is really nice."

The man shut the door behind him and coughed. "Thanks. It suffices."

He sat on the edge of his desk with his ankles crossed and watched me. Silence hung between us, and, well… I hated silence. "We haven't officially met. My name is Marley. I'm the owner of Bearclaw Blossoms . I like to get to know repeat clients when the situation calls for it. And you've ordered twice in a short amount of time, so I thought it might become a regular thing. Which isn't a problem at all, but thought it would be good to get to know you and see if there was anything in particular you might need or if you'd be interested in setting up an account. And well, there's the matter that I believe you attended a wedding I was at, that I'd done the flowers for, and it got me thinking that perhaps that was where you heard of me. If so, I do offer referral discounts, and I'd like to make sure the right person is credited for you finding me and starting a new account."

One corner of his mouth quirked up as he stared at me, witnessing my incredible word vomit. I was usually really good with people, but something about him had me feeling a little off-kilter. I was out of my element in this fancy office in front of the sharply dressed man.

Running my hand through the magenta lengths that hung on one side of my head, I said, "I'm sorry, Mr. Marten, forgive me. I should have sent you an email or something. I should probably go."

"Derek."

"Um, what?"

"Please call me Derek."

A sexy name for a sexy man in a sexy office. "Okay. Derek. Thanks for giving me a minute of your time. You know how to contact me if you have any questions."

As I turned toward the door, he stood up, his presence filling the space. "Don't go."

The two words were spoken softly, but with the force of someone who was used to being listened to. Not in a bad way, but in a way that locked me in place and kept me from leaving.

"Marley. I, well, I think I might need something from you."

Turning to face him, I realized he had closed the distance between us, standing only a couple of feet away. "Oh? Sure, how can I help?"

Derek's eyes darted around, looking unsure, which contrasted with the bold certainty I'd heard in his voice when he told me not to go. He walked behind his desk, resting his hands on it, with his head bent over. The man was clearly struggling with something, and I wasn't sure what I could do.

He breathed in deep, before looking up at me. "What do you think of my office, really?"

Surprised by the question, I looked around again. It was all very nice, if not a little soulless. "Is that a trick question?"

Derek stood straight. "No, no tricks. I've been told it's not very welcoming, so since you are not affiliated with the company and not under my leadership, I thought you might be an unbiased person to ask."

"Welp." I clicked my tongue and walked slowly around the room. With a look over my shoulder at the handsome man who gave me a nod of encouragement, I considered the impression it gave me.

"If you don't mind me saying so, it's a little dark."

"Yes. I suppose so. I close the blinds when I don't wish to be disturbed."

"That's understandable, but it's not just the blinds. It also feels…cold."

"Oh, I can adjust the thermostat." Derek walked toward the wall.

I let out a laugh which had his gaze land on me, looking enchanted, somehow. "No, I don't mean temperature. Everything is functional in here, and that's fine. But it could use a little life, a little color."

He folded his arms across his chest and pursed his lips. "Okay. What would you suggest?"

"I mean, I'm no interior decorator; there are plenty of them that you could bring in here to fix it up quickly. But if it were me, I would say some plants and fresh-cut flowers would be an instant fix. Not that I'm trying to upsell you or anything, I'm not. But I don't have a flower shop because it's merely something to do, but because I love it. I think plants are perfect in any space."

"As a marketing person, I will tell you that you should always be upselling."

I shrugged. "As a people person, I feel like the best way to sell something is to make a connection and invest your time. That buys you loyalty and will lead to more sales."

He tipped his head to me. "Touché."

"Anyway. If that's all, I should get going. I have other orders to deliver before I get back to my shop. "

"Oh, right. I didn't mean to keep you. Let's do it."

"Um…do what?"

"Let's start with flowers. What do you say, weekly?"

Putting my hands on my hips, I tilted my head. "I'm not sure we're on the same page here."

"A standing order, weekly deliveries. Flowers of your choice, because I'm shit at picking them out. Whatever you feel is fair. Same page now?"

Oh, a standing order? That sounded great. I had a few clients who got weekly deliveries for their businesses. It was nice to have regular orders, especially in between special occasions.

"Sure. Yes. That's absolutely doable. I can draw up a contract and we can work out the details, how big, how many, the day of the week, all that jazz. How does that sound?"

"Perfect. You can email me when you have it ready."

I smiled widely and held out my hand to him. This trip had taken an unexpected turn. "That sounds great. Thank you so much, Mr. Marten." He narrowed his eyes, and I corrected myself. "Derek. Thank you, Derek. I look forward to working with you."

"As do I." His hand gripped mine and held it in place, his green eyes locked onto mine. We stayed there, hands bound for much longer than a normal handshake should last. Those twirlies were back and I couldn't help the upward pull of my lips. God, the man was handsome. And intense. It felt as if he were peering into me, but in a way that made me feel like I could live in the depths of his gaze.

My skin began to warm beneath his attention, and he pulled his hand back at last. I immediately missed his touch, but that could be because I was long overdue for the touch of another man. Not friends, they didn't count. Phew , this man gave me all kinds of not-friends feelings. The I-might-need-a-cold-shower feelings.

"It was great to meet you, Marley."

"Yes. Same to you. I'll talk to you soon."

After I'd opened the door and was about to walk out, he shouted out behind me, "Carmen!"

I paused and turned back, standing in the open doorway. "Excuse me?"

"I got your name from Carmen, for your referral discount."

"Okay, great, thanks. I'll be sure to note that down." At that, I left the intense man behind, feeling intrigued, hot, excited, and generally, discombobulated.