Under My Boss's Direction

“Not much, just about to go run an errand.”

“Go? You mean go out, like outside?”

“That’s the general idea, yeah.”

“Is that safe?”

“Should be, I have a mask and just got a rapid test that came out clear.”

“How did you swing that?”

“Ryan arranged for a house call.”

“As in Mayor Ryan Owens?”

“That’s the one. He wants me to go get some flowers for him.”

“How modern, it usually goes the other way.”

“I don’t think that’s what he meant. He needs flowers and wants me to get them. Apparently he’s interested in someone at the office. It must be serious, he planned the entire parade just to impress her.”

“Wait, isn’t that your thing?”

“Usually,” I sighed, “But he is the boss.”

“Yeah, that doesn’t mean you have to bend over for him, no matter how hot he is,” Aofie scolded, her Irish blood at full boil, “you have to be less of a pushover.”

“I know, I still want to do it though. It’s my job.”

“Right, and has nothing to do with your soft spot for the boss man,” Aofie, snarked.

“Nope, or the fact that I honestly hoped he might have some hard spots for me.”

Even Aofie couldn’t help but laugh, and I was relieved that she was letting up on the subject. She had a real sense of justice and wasn’t afraid to call things as she saw then, which was part of why I loved her.

“I just hope he doesn’t get used to ordering you about.”

“Not likely to happen. He doesn’t even order anyway. I’d asked if I could help with the parade, and he said he needed flowers, so flowers I will get. I’m not sure how the two are connected, but I’m sure he knows best.”

“Let’s hope so.

It felt funny to be outside again after so long locked inside. I hadn’t noticed much at the time, but there was also nothing like experiencing the sun after a long absence to make you miss it. I was sure the smells of spring had begun to express themselves, but I couldn’t smell them because of the mask. Still, it was enough to know they were there.

The flower carts, usually all over the place at that time of year, were few and far between on that excursion. In the end I had to go to a brick-and-mortar florist, the scent of nature so strong that even the two-ply mask couldn’t keep it from me. I didn’t know much from flowers, but I knew what I liked, picking out a nicely wrapped bouquet of orchids before going up to the counter. The price tag would have made me wince were I not using the government account, completely separate from my own bank.

Cradling the delicate flowers like a swaddled baby, I headed for the main office which was only a few blocks from the florist, itself only a few streets only from my apartment building. They definitely hadn’t been exaggerating about its convenient central location.

I had to sign in like usual, you never knew when an enraged citizen, pushed over the edge by the trash pickup policy might try and take a shot at the mayor. Not as regular as assassination attempts at the higher levels of government it had been known to happen. Never in our town but it was better not to take the risk.

It was like second nature. I’d been to his office so many times before the lockdown it felt like I had a map in my head, taking me directly there. Shifting the weight of the surprisingly heavy bouquet, I knocked upon my master’s door.

“Come in.”

The door opened to Ryan, looking gorgeous as always in his best tweeds, light blue Oxford cloth shirt open at the neck, standing at the large bay window of his office in the historic City Hall.

“Right on time, Candide, please put those on the desk. You can pick them up when you leave.”

“I’m sorry, sir? I mean, Mr. Owens.”

“Please, I must insist that you call me Ryan,” he said, giving a grin that nearly knocked me down.

“Ryan,” I said, trying it out.

“Come, sit,” he said, tapping the folding chair set up next to him.

I did as he requested, putting the flowers onto his desk and going to take up the seat by his side.

“I’m not sure I understand, Ryan.”

“The flowers were for you. You probably thought they were for the person I mentioned before, but I have a confession to make. It was you. It has always been you. Oh, here they come.”

I looked where he did and nearly cried when I realized what was happening. The St. Patrick’s Day parade. Rolling past city hall, following the same route it always had before, there for anyone who could see it, even if they were stuck in side. The participants all wearing masks and keeping six feet apart for safety.

“I know how much it means to you, and with all the work you were already doing I didn’t want you to have to worry about planning the parade too. The flowers were mostly a ruse to get you here to see it with me, as well as to make sure you were clear, which I am as well. I’m going to ask you something and hope it isn’t wildly inappropriate.”