Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 95147 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95147 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
Steph
“Ms. Pierson?”
“Yes?” I looked at the stranger in front of me, squinty-eyed. I’d forgotten my glasses again, and the sun had a direct path to my corneas.
“These are for you, ma’am.” I stared at what must have been four humongous bouquets of every flower imaginable.
“Oh, come on in.” I showed him where to place them on the grand piano and the center table in the living room. “I’ll take these two, thanks.” I’ll put them in the bedroom and bathroom of the master suite.
“Oh! Hold on, let me get you a tip.”
“No, ma’am, that’s all been taken care of. You have a nice day and enjoy those flowers.” He had a nice, personable smile on his face as he left. My heart raced as I looked for a card. I had a pretty good idea who they were from, but it was too good to be true. No one had ever sent me flowers, except for my dad when I was younger, and he was alive.
Ms. Kitty was doing some kinda dance I’d never seen before. I guess that’s her victory dance since she’s been on his side all along. Like I’m taking advice from her. She’s only after one thing while I’m looking for someone to settle down and start a family with.
There’s no way a guy like Mace is ever going to be into me. I’d learned after the separation that there were plenty of men who loved to chat up bigger ladies behind the scenes but wouldn’t be caught dead with them in public, and none of them were on the same level as Mace. That’s not the only reason I didn’t date, but it helped make my decision easier.
I searched among the blossoms for a card and found one in his bold handwriting. I’d seen it on some papers in his office last night, or was that this morning? That means he didn’t get his assistant or anyone else to buy them, and he didn’t buy them online. He’d gone into a store and picked them out himself. I felt warm all over and giddy as a schoolgirl.
“I didn’t know which kind you like, so I chose some of the best. Baby Daddy.” What? What the…. Oh, I did call him that that first night when I fell into his chest. My face heated up. How the heck did he remember that? I ran to get my phone, and then I was stumped.
Should I text, or should I call? Geez, since when is this a problem? Decisions, decisions. Would I be interrupting something if I called? Is it rude to just text a thank you? What do you want to do, Steph? I searched contacts for where he’d added his number and hit the call button.
He answered on the second ring. “Um, hello Mace, this is Stephanie. Did you um, did you by any chance send me flowers?” It’s only after I’d called that I realized I could be making a complete fool of myself. What if he hadn’t been the one?
“You calling other men around this fucking city, baby daddy?”
“Oh no, no, I didn’t mean it like that; I just didn’t want to assume.”
“Stephanie, you’ve got to be more assertive than that. If you haven’t called anyone other than me by that name, then doesn’t it make sense that I am the one who sent them? Why then can’t you assume that I sent you the flowers?” Must he be so pragmatic?
‘Now see, that’s how your mouth does get your ass in trouble. Let me remind you, that’s between you, your mouth, and your ass. It has nothing to do with me. If the two of you cock block me again, I’ll give you canker sores.’
‘Hush, Ms. Kitty damn.’
“How many conversations do you two have a day?”
“What?” How does he know?
“By the way, that word you used last night, fat, how do you describe yourself?”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s a pretty straightforward question, Stephanie. If we’d never met and I asked you what you look like, what would you say?”
“Big girl, I guess. Why?”
“Because you need to start seeing yourself the way you want to see yourself, and not the way the world tells you you should. There are lots of words used to describe women with your figure—Plus-size, curvy, lush. I like lush myself, but you have to decide what you like.”
Lush, he thinks I’m lush. Can this day get any better?
“What’re you doing tomorrow?”
Tomorrow? Tomorrow is Sunday. “Nothing that I know of.”
“Great, I’ll pick you up at one for brunch.” He’s taking me out to eat?
“Is there a problem?” I had to clear the tears from my throat to answer him.
“No, no problem.”
“Do me a favor? In the future, leave your ex and your past out of your head when you’re talking to me.” He hung up the phone. Who is this guy?