The Rivals

Sophia’s smile was a mix of curious and amused as she approached.

“Hi.”

I lifted my chin to Scarlett’s bags. “Looks like you might need another suitcase for your trip home.”

“The store is delivering the rest. I couldn’t carry it all.”

I smiled and shook my head.

“She’s totally not kidding,” Sophia said. “They really are delivering. I didn’t even know they would do that type of thing.”

Mr. Thorne cleared his throat next to me.

“Sorry. Sophia, Scarlett, this is Walter Thorne.”

The women took turns extending their hands. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Thorne,” Scarlett said.

“Please, call me Walter,” he replied.

“What the hell?” I said. “I have to call you Mr. Thorne and these two you just met can call you Walter?”

“If you were as pretty as they are, I’d let you call me whatever you wanted.”

I rolled my eyes. “You’re unbelievable. Maybe they should pick up your scratch-offs from now on, then.”

Mr. Thorne waved me off. “An old man should be addressed formally, at least until using his first name is earned.”

I hadn’t really been annoyed until he said that. “And I haven’t earned it yet?”

He tilted his head. “Not quite.”

Sophia laughed. “I take it you two have known each other for a while?”

“Too long,” I grumbled.

He leaned toward the women and lowered his voice. “Do you know what skinny jeans and a cheap hotel have in common?”

“What?” Sophia said.

“No ballroom.”

The ladies both laughed, which only egged Mr. Thorne on.

“A man brought a lady back to his hotel room after their first date,” he said. “Things were going well, and clothes started to come off. The man took his shoes and socks off, and the woman noticed his toes were all gnarly and twisted. She said, ‘What’s wrong with your toes?’ to which the man replied, ‘I had tolio.’ She said, ‘Tolio? Do you mean polio?’ He shook his head. ‘Nope, I had tolio.’

“A few minutes later, the man took off his pants, and the woman noticed his knees were all beat up. She said, ‘What’s wrong with your knees?’ The man replied, ‘I had the kneasles.’ The woman replied, ‘Kneasles? Don’t you mean the measles?’ Again, he shook his head. ‘Nope. Had the kneasles.’

“Things were getting hot and heavy, so the man finally took off his boxers. The woman looked down and said, ‘What a shame. You had small pox, too!’”

The ladies cracked up again, and I rubbed my hand over my face. “Alright. I think that’s my cue that it’s time to get out of here. Things will only get worse after that start.”

We said goodbye, and Mr. Thorne opened his arms to Sophia. She smiled and leaned down for the hug he offered. I heard him give her more than that, though he tried his best to lower his voice.

“Don’t give up on him too fast, okay, sweetheart?” he whispered. “Every once in a while he pulls his head out of his ass, and it makes all those rough edges smooth out nicely.”

Chapter 19

* * *

Sophia

The next morning, Louis, the hotel manager, stopped by my suite to deliver a bunch of reports our legal team needed. He set them down on the desk and noticed the empty box of flowers there, as well as two dozen roses, blooms down, sticking out of the wastepaper basket next to it.

“Did I miss your birthday?” he asked.

“No. My birthday is in October.”

When I offered no additional explanation, he took the hint and nodded.

“Why don’t I take those with me? I’m on my way down to the loading dock next. The dumpster is out there. It’ll get them out of your way and save housekeeping from carrying them down.”

“Ummm…sure, that would be great. Thank you.”

He picked up the box and stuffed the roses from the trash can back inside. “Did you throw out the others? I can grab those, too, if you want.”

“Others?”

Louis nodded. “The ones from Park Florist, the place around the corner. They came about a half hour after these did.”

“Are you sure they were for me?”

“I’m pretty sure. I could’ve sworn Matt, the usual delivery guy, said, ‘Flowers for Sophia Sterling.’” Louis shook his head. “But maybe I misheard. I can double-check with Mr. Lockwood.”

“Weston? Why would he know?”

“He walked over and said he’d take care of the delivery.”

Hmm… Something in my gut told me Louis hadn’t heard wrong. But who else would have sent me flowers, and why would Weston make sure these were delivered and not the others?

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll check with Weston. Thank you for letting me know.”

After Louis left, I needed to get the reports down to my legal team, so I put off asking Weston. Then the morning got so busy that I forgot about it until I was on my way to grab a chopped salad for a late lunch and noticed the sign above the building a few doors down. Park Florist.