No More Waiting, She Chooses Love novel Chapter 257

"Ms. Hudson, got a delivery for you."

The delivery guy, balancing a bouquet of white roses in his arms, extended them towards me with a sheepish grin.

White roses, my favorite. Only someone who really knows me would choose these.

Immediately, my thoughts flew to Conrad. He's always been the one to send me white roses on my birthday and occasionally, as a sweet gesture, on ordinary days.

But today wasn't special, or was it? Why would he send me flowers out of the blue?

As I stood there, lost in thought, the delivery guy nudged the bouquet closer, clearly eager to dash off to his next drop.

Reluctantly, I took the flowers from him.

"Who's the lucky guy? Boyfriend?" chirped Grant from behind me.

I was about to dismiss his guess when a card slipped from between the flowers. Grant, ever helpful, bent down to pick it up and handed it to me.

Scrawled on it was a simple message: "Girl, hope you have a great day."

That word 'girl' sent shivers down my spine, instantly bringing to mind the smug face of Jimmy Perez. Never in a million years would I have guessed it was him!

But how did he know about my love for white roses?

It didn't take long for me to connect the dots - Haley must've told him. The realization hit me like a ton of bricks. That woman, in her cunning attempt to keep me away from her man, had set her brother on me. Did she really think I'd fall for that?

"Which guy sent these, huh?" Grant buzzed around me like an annoying bee, clearly too invested in my love life for his own good.

I decided to play along, teasing, "Some young hunk."

"What?" Grant looked genuinely shocked, his reaction amusing me to no end.

Ignoring his stunned silence, I strutted into the office.

"Director, got flowers from your beau? Such good taste, so beautiful."

Ernest:[ ...]

Me: [Something on your mind?]

Ernest: [Just checking in.]

I didn't know how to respond to that. A message out of the blue, especially from someone with romantic history, usually meant one thing: they were missing you.

Oh, the bitter-sweetness of love.

Ernest: [Anything interesting happen at work today?]

I hesitated, then, glancing at the roses on my couch, snapped a photo and sent it to him: [Aren’t they pretty?]

Ernest: [Where did they come from?]

I could almost see his scowl through the screen, a smirk playing on my lips as I typed back: [A secret admirer.]