Page 53 of Painted Truths

"You're good to offer, sweet girl. I'll sort it out. Thank you, though."

The unspoken words lie heavily between us as silence fills the line for the first time on this call, until I can’t take it any longer.

“Alex, you need to know… Henry is Mc—”

But before I can finish, Alex speaks up, drowning out my words. “Gotta go, sweet girl.”

And with that, without even a farewell, he’s gone, and my heart is heavy all over again.

Sorting through the emails and requests that have inundated my inbox since last night, I immediately spot what I was waiting for all day yesterday.

Sender: Enrico DeMarco, CEO @[email protected]

Recipient: Olivia Parker @[email protected]

Subject: RE: RE: Colour

A sunset doesn't touch on your beauty, Peach.

As for my favourite colour, only one comes to mind. Have you ever seen a stormy sea with the waves swelling and cresting? The sheer beauty is awe-inspiring.

You need only look in the mirror if you haven't, because your eyes are that exact shade and twice as breathtaking.

H

When I've finished reading, my chest rises and falls rapidly as my heart threatens to jump right out of my chest. I can’t help nibbling on my bottom lip as I re-read the email another two times. A lump forms in my throat at these words, and I swallow roughly in an attempt to dislodge it.

It takes several long minutes before the goosebumps have receded, the lump has dissipated, and I feel myself return to a semi-normal state, settling into the right mindset to get into my workday.

The day passes without incident, with no more communication between us; however, I can't deny that his gestures have cracked through my already lowered walls.

* * *

Despite the well-meaning warnings from Alex, the only thing that dominates my thoughts for the rest of the workweek is Henry.

It's hard to forget about him, considering he's either placed himself or had someone else place in his stead a blue rose each day on my desk, and each day the sight of it sets my soul aflame.

Each exquisite rose chips away at my wavering resolve.

Each divine bloom questions my ability to stay away.

On Friday morning, after I've tucked my daily rose away into my top drawer, the previous days having drawn unwanted crowds to my desk, I am kept excruciatingly busy right up until lunchtime. So I decide I'll just grab a quick salad and eat it at my desk, but before I can leave the floor, I get a call from HR.

"Liv, honey." She beams. "I'm so glad I caught you."

"Is everything okay, Martha?"

"Oh, everything is great, sweetie. I wanted to let you know you have been given the rest of the day off, courtesy of Mr DeMarco. Well, courtesy of Alex. He emailed me earlier, telling me you have your big move today, so you can take the rest of the day off to get it done quicker. Isn't that wonderful?"

The smile that brightens up my face is big and genuine. Even from Dubai, he's still looking out for me.

I bid Martha a farewell and return to my desk, where I grab my things to leave, happy but already exhausted at the thought of what's ahead of me. As I'm looping my bag over my shoulder, my desk phone rings.

"Good afternoon, Alex DeMarco's office. How may I help you?"

"Have you had lunch yet? I've ordered far too much."

Promptly recognising that singularly electrifying voice, my heart speeds up, and my palms get sweaty before I shakily agree to meet him upstairs. Then, hanging up, I grab my coat and take the elevator up, arriving at his door within five minutes of his call.