Moments later, Johnny, head of security, wandered down the room, his face hidden by the large spray of vibrant yellow roses.
“I’m sure they cost a few quid!” Johnny offloaded them onto her desk.
They were magnificent, with a subtle sweet scent that reminded her of late spring. She checked the small card but there were no initials.
If Rory didn’t send them, then who did?
Lana stared at the pretty bouquet for the next hour or so. The delicate petals were much more appealing than the black words on the personnel report.
The man two desks down disturbed her daydream when he slung on his coat and announced his plans to grab a beer at the pub.
Having a few minutes to spare before meeting Amanda in the foyer for their lunch date, Lana dashed to the ladies’, her sanctuary when she needed space, mindfulness.
Dropping her bag on the wall shelf, she located her mobile and texted Rory,
‘Hey. What time will you be home? xx’
Within a few seconds, her mobile vibrated, a sharp instant buzz.
‘Zac wants to go for a few pints after work. Don’t wait up x’
And there it was, their life in text messages and Rory’s life with his friends. She decided not to ask him about the flowers just yet, in case they were from someone else.
Not Marcus, of course.
She dusted bronzer over the apples of her cheeks, smoothed on and blotted her pink lipstick and finished off with a spray of her favourite perfume.
Glancing at her watch, she watched the digits change, announcing it was noon. She slipped into her leather biker jacket, scooped up her bag and flew out the door to the stairwell.
Amanda stood in the corner of the foyer with Richard Gifford, a broody man, hair as black as coal, cropped so closely to his head that it almost resembled a bathing cap.
His long eyelashes adorned light grey eyes, and when he smiled at Amanda, his pouting lips spread across his face in a rakish grin.
There was a sizzle in the air between the two, but neither would admit to the other that they fancied the pants off each other.
Amanda made it common knowledge to all who would listen that she wasn’t interested in hooking up with a guy on a permanent basis, yet in reality, her heart was in Richard’s hands.
It was obvious that her sheer stubbornness to commit was killing them both from the inside out.
Amanda flipped her curls. “Lana! Let’s get out of here.”
Richard nodded at them both and sauntered off towards the elevator. Amanda’s gaze trailed after his tight ass, her eyes filled with sadness and lust.
She sighed loudly and snatched her bag from the tiled floor. “Right, let’s make like a tree and leaf.” She sniggered. “I’m starving.”
Lana ruffled her fingers through her long tresses and hummed in agreement. “Me too.”
The glass doors slid open onto the street and they ambled outside into the balmy late-summer breeze.
Amanda’s hand tightened in a death like grip around Lana’s arm and she halted mid step. “Holy crap, Lan, look at…”
Her words floated into the ether as Lana’s heart thundered in her chest, her skin warmed all over.
Parked opposite the dreary grey building was a sporty steel grey Lexus, with Marcus McGrath leaning on the bonnet, wearing a dark blue suit, the jacket left open to reveal cobalt lining where his hand rested in his snug trouser pocket.
He displayed the confidence and charm of a man who was used to getting whatever or whoever he wanted.
Marcus strode towards her, hastily closing the distance between them. “Lana.” He nodded, his eyes hidden behind gold-rimmed aviator sunglasses.