CHAPTER FIFTY EIGHT: FLOWERS

I sat at my desk, going over the first part of the proposal that my team would be giving next week. They planned out a timeline as to when each advertisement would take place, being careful not to have them too close or too far apart. They had a few public ideas on how to advertise Paris as well, everything from a Beer Garden to a Dance Party. To be honest, I loved their ideas and had plenty of thoughts of my own that I could add. There was a knock at the office door.

“Come in.” I kept my eyes on the screen of my tablet, scrolling through the power point.

“I knew you’d be here hard at work,” the old man's voice spoke out to me. My eyes shifted up quickly, as I got to my feet, seeing Mr. Davis in the door. The first thing that came to mind? I was going to strangle the neck of Karen Aguilar. He was with his cane today, wearing a white suit.

“Mr. Davis,” I greeted him, walking over to him, taking him by his arm to guide him to a chair at my desk. “You are looking sharp today.” He chu