Roses and Receipts

I prepared for an awkward day at work the next morning. In my experience, men don’t like being rejected. So hurting Rodger’s feelings was all I thought about up until I saw a huge bouquet of roses sitting on my desk. I smiled instantly. The last time a guy had gotten me flowers, I was on my way to some cheesy high school dance.

Even though receiving the flowers brightened my day the minute I saw them, I thought it was a bit much. I didn’t want Rodger getting his hopes up any more than they already were, so I took them to his office to return them.

“Rodger, you didn’t have to bring me flowers.”

He looked up from his laptop and, at the same time, removed his earbuds from his ears. “What was that?”

“I said you didn’t have to bring me flowers. Last night was awkward, but no need to apologize. Everyone misreads the room at least once in their life.”

Rodger turned off his music and leaned back against his chair. He seemed amused by my assumption. His eyes were squinty, and his smirk was full of offense. Almost as if he were saying, How dare she? It was at that moment I realized I had it wrong.

“I didn’t bring you those,” he said. “They are very nice though.”

I looked down at the bouquet, embarrassed but fulfilled at the same time. It was obvious who they were from, if not from Rodger. He knew it too. So not only had I rejected him the night before, but I poured salt into the wound.

"Oh,” I humbly backed out of his office. “Sorry. I thought you… yeah. Sorry.”

I left his office full of shame and regret. But when I got behind my own office door, I hurriedly searched for a card. When I finally found it, there was his name in big, bold letters. Bentley Thomas. Staring directly at me.

Justine,

Thanks for coming to the party. Keep in touch.

His message was short and sweet. My guilty pleasure was wanting it to be longer. Wanting to see him again. Investigating him for Ivy’s murder. I felt biased and like a hypocrite. I had already lied to him about my profession, so it was easy to feel like I was lying to myself about my interest in him.

“So, who are the flowers from?” Tina, Marcia, and Mandy all poked their heads into my office. They were the building gossip girls, and they all did more gossiping than actual work.

“Ya’ll are so nosey,” I laughed. “I’m sure one of you read the note when they were delivered. So, you tell me.”

“Okay, fine! You got me." Mandy came through the door first, and Tina and Marcia followed. “It was Bentley. Please tell me your secret. How did you come in contact with a man like that?”

She was nearly drooling all over herself thinking about him. They all were. I too silently fantasized. I felt no better than the men who fetishize beautiful women for their own satisfaction.

“I’m investigating the Ivy Smith case,” I said. “She was killed outside his nightclub. I asked if he would answer a few questions, and the rest is history.”

I flashed the girls a playful smile as I buried my face into the flowers. They smelled amazing, and they were soft against my skin. It reminded me of Bentley’s touch and the kiss I reluctantly washed away from my lips. If it weren’t for having to brush my teeth every day, it would have still been there.

“Sorry about Ivy, by the way,” Tina said. “It’s crazy what happened to her. She was such a sweet girl too.”

"Yeah, she was,” I said. “That's why I’m gonna find out who did this and make sure they’re put away.”

“Do you think Bentley had something to do with it?” Marcia asked.

I didn’t know how to answer her question. At first, I thought Bentley absolutely had something to do with it. I was one hundred percent sure. But after feeling him out, that percentage was cut in half.

“You would think so, right?” Tina chimed in. “We all know what that family is capable of and how many small businesses they bullied out of business. They try to keep it low-key, but come on. We’re not stupid.”

I heard the truth and grasped at reality again. Bentley was a fine man with an alarming pull on any woman he crossed paths with, but a fantasy was all it could be for me. It had to be. At least, until I knew for certain he was innocent.

“His company was trying to buy Ivy out of her business a week before this happened,” I said. “Rodger told me that. He questions whether or not she turned down the deal, and so do I. It could be a motive, but after talking with Bentley, I don’t know. Her plant shop wasn’t in an extravagant part of town or anything. Why would he need to kill her to take possession?”

“I asked the same question,” Marcia said. “It just doesn't seem very likely. I mean, we know the stories about the Thomas family, but why Ivy? Of all people.”

Why Ivy? That was a great question. Unless she knew something about Bentley and his dealings and threatened to out him, there was no reason for him to murder her.

That’s what I assumed. Until I remembered the boyfriend Mr. Smith talked about.