And then she figured it out.
Of course. It was a prank. The girls at work knew she went to church, occasionally poked fun at her for being a Jesus freak, and had sent this to her as a prank, probably when they’d had a buzz on. They’d probably thought it was hilarious. But they’d been so drunk they’d messed up the poem. Or forgotten to finish it.
Chapter 10
Monday mornings atthe law office were always crazy. People tended to get into trouble over the weekends and then showed up en masse bright and early on Monday to hire lawyers to get them out of said trouble.
Samantha did her best to keep smiling at each new client, but the smiling was giving her a headache. Or maybe that was the wine. The trouble with drinking the hair of the dog that bit you was that the dog bit you the next morning too. It was a miserable cycle. Drink to kill the hangover and get yourself a new hangover, which you then need to kill again.
You’re not drinking tonight,she told herself over and over throughout the day. She believed it too, even though so many times before, that promise had turned out to be a lie.
The hour hand had just passed the number four, and Samantha was counting down the minutes, when the front door opened again. Oh no, another panicking alleged criminal. But when she looked up to smile, she didn’t see a criminal, unless this criminal was bringing his prospective lawyer a bouquet of roses.
The man set the flowers on the counter in front of her and said, “These are for Samantha Gallant.”
She realized he was staring at her and said, “Oh ... um ... yeah. That’s me.”
“These are for you, then.” He faked a smile. “Enjoy.” And he was gone, leaving her staring stupidly at the impossible posy in front of her.
“Oh!” Miranda said from her cubicle. She’d stood up to stare and peeked out over her panel. “Who arethosefrom?”
Samantha remembered the fake gift card. “Did you do this?”
“What?” Miranda cried and came bouncing out of her cubbyhole to examine the bouquet. “Why would I send you roses?” She gave Samantha a look that said she was crazy. She plucked a card that Samantha hadn’t even seen and opened the envelope. “Oh,” she said again, more dramatically this time.
Denise was coming down the hall, and Miranda waved the card at her. “Samantha has a secret admirer!”
Samantha’s head swam with confusion. “What?”
Miranda handed her the card. It read:
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove.
—Your Secret Admirer