Chapter 9
~ Octavia ~
"You called for me, Mrs. Lawson?" I asked, stepping into her office and closing the door behind me.
"Yes." She leaned back in her leather swivel chair, eyeing me with a mix of professional curiosity and newfound respect. "First of all, congratulations on your engagement to Mr. Flemington."
The charade was already exhausting.
"Thank you," I feigned a smile, the muscles in my cheeks aching from the effort.
She nodded, tapping a pen against her desk.
"Secondly, since it's Mr. Flemington's firm we've partnered with, I wanted to ensure there wouldn't be any... awkwardness during the team presentation."
I blinked, confused. "Awkwardness? Why would there be, Mrs. Lawson?"
"Well, the CEO of our partner firm is your fiancé. I'm simply pointing it out so it doesn't catch you—or the rest of the board—off guard on the day."
"Don't worry," I said, my voice tight. "It won't be an issue. Was that all?"
"For now? Yes."
I nodded and turned on my heel, my blood beginning to boil.
Instead of heading back to my desk, I ducked into the restroom. I needed to confront Franklin immediately. I dialed his number, but it went straight to voicemail.
I called again.
And again.
On the fourth try, he finally picked up.
"What the hell, Octavia? Stop calling me. I'm in the middle of a high-stakes board meeting," he hissed, his voice a low, dangerous vibration.
"I don't care," I snapped, pacing the small tile floor. "Why didn't you tell me yesterday that your company was our 'anonymous' partner?"
"Because it wasn't a big deal," he said, his nonchalance driving me insane. "And besides, why would I disclose corporate mergers that involve my private business to you?"
"Because it's my life too, Franklin! For once, stop being so damn selfish."
I heard him scoff on the other end. "So now I'm selfish?"
"Yes, you are!"
"So, what? Before I make a billion-dollar decision, I should run it by you first?"
"If it involves me, then yes!" I shouted at the phone.
"Unbelievable," he muttered, his voice rising in fury. "Well, now you know. Can I get back to work now?"
Before I could get another word in, the line went dead.
"Asshole," I muttered, shoving the phone back into my pocket.
When I returned to my desk, Victoria gave me a questioning look, but I brushed her off, claiming it was just a minor project update.
I tried to focus, but my mind was a whirlwind of Franklin's arrogance.
An hour later, my desk phone buzzed.
"Hello?"
"Miss Herman? This is Steph at the front desk. There's a dispatch rider at the lobby with a package for you."
"A package? I'm not expecting anything."
"It's a bouquet of flowers, Miss Herman. And the rider is getting quite impatient."
I sighed and stood up.
Franklin, I thought. He was likely trying to salvage the "public image" of our engagement after our blowout on the phone.
"I'll be right down."
When I stepped out of the elevator, I stopped dead.
The rider was holding a massive, overflowing bouquet of deep red roses. It was ostentatious. It was overkill. It was going to turn every head in the building.
"Sorry to keep you waiting," I said, feeling the heat rise in my neck as the receptionist watched with wide, curious eyes.
"No problem. Sign here," the rider said, handing me the heavy floral arrangement and a small, cream-colored note.
I tucked the note into my pocket and lugged the roses back to the elevator.
Once the doors slid shut, I pulled the card out.
To my greatest love, Octavia.
A beautiful rose for a beautiful lady.
Love, Franklin.
I nearly gagged. It was so cheesy, so utterly unlike the cold man I'd just spoken to.
I dialed his number again.
Surprisingly, he answered on the first ring.
"This is becoming a habit," he demanded, though his voice was hushed this time.
"Look, I get that we're playing a part, but this is too much," I said, gesturing at the air with the flowers. "The massive bouquet? And the note? 'To my greatest love'? It's cheesy, immature, and I don't—"
"Whoa, whoa. What are you talking about?" Franklin interrupted, sounding genuinely baffled. "I didn't send you any flowers."
I paused, my heart skipping a beat.
"Are you kidding me? Stop pulling my leg, Franklin. I'm holding them right now."
"Octavia, I've been in meetings all morning. I haven't ordered a single thing."
I stood just outside the office doors, frozen.
"If it wasn't you... then who?"
There was a long silence on the other end. Then, I heard Franklin let out a long, weary sigh.
"I think I know who it was."
"Who?"
"My grandfather," he replied. "It's exactly the kind of move he'd make. He probably forged my handwriting and sent them to ensure the 'happy couple' narrative stays alive in your office. It's clever, I'll admit."
I leaned against the wall, stunned. His grandfather was playing puppet master with my life.
"I... I don't even know what to say."
"Throw them away, keep them—I don't care," Franklin said dismissively. "I have to go. I'm busy. Bye."
He hung up.
Rude, I thought, looking down at the beautiful, lying roses.
I took a deep breath and pushed open the office doors.
The moment I stepped inside, the chatter stopped.
Then came the whistles and the teasing.
I walked to my desk, and immediately all eyes were on me, something that I knew would happen.
"Is it from Mr. Flemington?" one of my colleagues said, gasping.
"You are a lucky woman, Octavia. I wish I could trade for your position to be with Mr. Flemington."
"And roses are my favourite flower," Victoria said.
"Then you can have it," I said — and quickly regretted saying it.
They all exchanged a look.
"Why would you give those beautiful roses to Victoria when it's a gift from Mr. Flemington to you?" another colleague asked.
"Sorry, my bad. You are right... I didn't mean to sound that way. I meant to say that if only Victoria can have it all — but she can't because it's mine... from my fiancé."
I laughed nervously.
"Just pray to have your own Franklin Flemington, Vic," I smiled at her.
I headed back to my desk and put the bouquet down to focus on work, knowing all too well that the man whose name was on the card didn't even know they existed.