Heading back home, Flora soaked up the crisp evening air, but the laid-back vibes were long gone. Dead on her feet, she crouched to swap out her shoes at the front door, instantly hit by the tempting scent of home-cooked dishes.
“Mom, what scrumptious chow are you whipping up?” asked Flora.
Monica was hustling and bustling in the kitchen, donning an apron. She cracked open the door, “Flora, you’re back! I cooked up your favorite sweet and sour ribs for supper.”
Flora tossed her bag, rolled up her sleeves, and squeezed into the tight kitchen space. “Mom, let me lend you a hand.”
As Monica stirred the sauce, she looked better than she had in ages. “Flora, how’s the new gig treating you?”
Back turned, Flora grabbed some veggies and replied, “It’s going swimmingly.” She dropped the greens into the basket. Despite the worries nagging at her, Flora couldn’t hide her joy when she thought of Justin. “Mom, remember Justin?”
Monica’s hand froze mid-stir. Facing Flora, she said, “Flora, I know he’s hard to forget, but it’s been ages since he’s been gone…”
“Mom, he’s back.”
“What?!” Shock painted Monica’s face.
“He’s been overseas for the past year. He’s not dead.”
“But back then…”
“His family must’ve pulled some strings. I was scared out of my wits then. If he had really died, wouldn’t his family have said something to the public?”
Monica let out a sigh of relief, wiping sweat off her brow with the back of her hand. “That’s a relief. One of these days, I’ll whip up some dishes, and you can invite Justin over. I’d like to meet him.”
“Sure, sounds like a plan,” Flora replied cheerfully.
Dinner came together in a jiffy. Flora set the table, and they cozied up in front of it. Monica flicked on the retro color TV in the living room.
Used to catching the news during supper, she plucked some meaty sweet and sour rib pieces and placed them in Flora’s plate. “Eat up; you’re looking too skinny.”
“Coming up on tonight’s news, our latest scoop. Yesterday afternoon…” The TV’s racket was deafening, but Flora was too focused on chowing down to care.
“I’ll for sure take her to court. I won’t stand for this twisted nonsense…” A man’s all-too-familiar and disgusting voice reached Flora’s ears. She gulped down her food and looked up.
“Can you tell us what went down?” The reporter held the mic to the man’s mouth.
“She thought she could make me hand over the project with her vile tactics. Do I look like that kind of guy? When I said no, she flipped out and started bashing me with a wine bottle from the table. Check out my injuries…”
Fuming, the man pointed at his head, wrapped up like a burrito. “I’ll sue her and make her pay for what she’s done!”
“And could you tell us which company the other party represents?”
Flora gripped her fork tightly as the man’s repulsive face dominated the screen, magnifying every one of his expressions.
He opened his mouth, fear flickering in his eyes, but quickly resumed a self-righteous air for the camera.
“Our companies have always had solid collaboration and a stellar rep. This incident is purely about personal character. She even said that if I didn’t give her the project, she wouldn’t get her commission…”
Flora’s face went white with rage, her body quivering. Monica took a bite of her food and shook her head, “There are too many shameless folks out there. That girl must’ve refused his improper requests, and who’d go to a place like that for legit business?”
On TV, the brazen man continued to make threats.
“Poor girl, she’s probably in deep water now,” Monica said, piling more food into Flora’s plate. “Flora, you’ve got to be cautious working in a big company. We can’t afford to tangle with people like that. I don’t need you to rake in big bucks, just live a stable life.”
Eyeing the small mountain of food in her plate, Flora’s eyes filled with tears. How she wished things were different!
“Let me see if the soup’s ready,” said Monica.
As Monica turned and walked back to the kitchen, Flora couldn’t hold her tears back, and they fell into the steaming bowl.
She hastily wiped them away. If her Monica found out, it would only add to her worries.
She took a few bites; the taste of tears was so bitter and hard to swallow.
She had planned to grab dinner with Justin tonight, but when it came time to leave work, she canceled. The situation was getting dicey, and with Dylan in the mix, it would be even tougher for Justin, who had just taken over Fornection.
So, Flora didn’t tell him.
After showering and hitting the sack, the phone on her pillow rang out of the blue.
Towel-drying her hair, Flora picked up the phone without looking and answered, “Hello?”
“Come downstairs.” The domineering tone held no hint of kindness. Flora glanced at the caller’s number and replied with an equally frosty tone, “What do you want?”
“I’m downstairs at your place.”
“I’m going to sleep.”
“You’ve got three minutes to come downstairs, or I’m coming up.” With that, the call ended.
Flora quickly got up, went to the window, and peeked out. Sure enough, Dylan’s car was parked below. He got out after hanging up, raising his right hand as if checking the time.
Three minutes? No time to waste. Flora hastily dried her hair some more and, without changing out of her PJs, threw on a long coat and bolted downstairs.
The stairwell was dark, but her frantic footsteps echoed. Dylan leaned against his car, and under the dim streetlight, he saw the figure suddenly dashing towards him.
Her simple PJs were a far cry from the sultry silk temptations Dylan’s lovers usually donned. Her hair, still half-damp, hung messily over her shoulders. Dylan’s amused gaze followed her legs downward, landing on a pair of pink bunny slippers.
“What do you want?” Flora’s shoes were cute, but her tone was far from it.
“Did you catch the news?”
“Congrats,” Flora said, hands in her coat pockets. “No drugs? La Comte dodged a bullet. You must’ve pulled out all the stops.”
Dylan took out a cigarette, gracefully lit it, and said, “You can dodge it too if you want.”
“Is there still time?”
“In my life, there’s no such thing as ‘impossible’ or ‘too late.'” Dylan cocky demeanor was evident as he flicked the ashes off his cigarette.
Flora just smiled, not as eager as Dylan had imagined.
“Anything else to say?” She was clearly trying to brush him off.
The hand holding the cigarette fell on Flora’s shoulder as he stood tall in front of her, ignoring her repeated attempts to dodge him.
Dylan’s rare good mood was on the brink of exploding, but he was in control of this game and not in a rush.
Flora stiffened her back as the burning tip of the cigarette easily singed a few strands of her hair. If she moved, the searing heat would leave a scar on her face.
Dylan easily wrapped his arms around her shoulders, his handsome face lowering towards her, but she dodged him first.
He tossed his cigarette, his arm pressing her so hard she felt pain in her bones. His approaching kiss wasn’t as rough as his actions, merely brushing her lips before pulling away.
For some reason, he had an unimaginable amount of patience with Flora.
“Tomorrow will be a bright, sunny day.” Dylan left her with a cryptic message before hopping into his sports car. Flora didn’t linger, turning to enter the dark stairwell.
Her phone rang, and she looked at the screen with a smile before answering, “Hello?”
“Are you asleep?” Justin’s voice was gentle and strong. She whispered, “Not yet.”
“What are you doing?”
Flora walked a couple of steps along the railing in the darkness as she said, “I just… just got out of the shower.”
There was silence on the other end of the phone for a few seconds. Flora gripped her phone tightly, her shallow breaths revealing her unease. “Flora, are you keeping something from me?”
Flora was startled, almost tripping on the old staircase. She leaned against the peeling wall and stammered, “Justin, I…”
She hesitated, her left hand nervously gripping her pants. Should I tell him about Dylan?
Will Justin be disgusted by me? But keeping it a secret feels like a heavy weight, making it hard for me to even breathe…
“Flora, you don’t have to hide it from me.” After a long silence, Justin’s voice came through the phone.
“No, Justin…” She gathered her courage, preparing to spill the beans.
