Another bouquet of roses

Cecilia sat in her living room, staring at the telephone and willing it to ring. She had been looking forward to get a call from Oliver every day since the day they had met in the shopping mall and given him her name card. In that day, when he'd taken her car back to her, she had been at the meeting and had not been able to meet him.

Her secretary had told her that someone called Oliver Phoenix had got to her desk and asked her to meet her boss, but when he hadn't got the chance to meet Cecilia, he'd given her the car remote and left.

She hadn't accepted his proposal for some higher position in her company. Had she been wrong, Cecilia thought regretfully. But he'd better not to work in her company because she didn't want to bring about an affair between the boss and the employee.

During the week, she had no idea how many times she'd picked up the phone to call him, but when she was about to dial his number each time she held her hand back. I shouldn't do this, she thought. In fact, she hadn't got the courage to call him.

Now Cecilia had lost her weight and looked paler then ever because she'd slipped into mourning for her lover Ken, that overwhelmed her every waking moment. She hadn't been able to wipe away the pain of loss she felt. After that she unexpectedly met Oliver Phoenix and had felt her lover was alive again; her tiny hope seemed to be reborn. But now when Phoenix hadn't made a contact with her once, her poor little hope seemed to have been blown away with the wind.

Why didn't he call her even once, Cecilia thought. Unable to forget the look on his face and the glint in his eyes as he had spoken to her, that showed his interest in her. She was eating her heart out because of him.

Today, Cecilia had woken up with a terrible headache but she'd tried to go to her office until she knew she got a temperature. So she reluctantly decided to stay at home. Taking some aspirins, she took a rest and stayed in bed all morning. Cecilia didn't know when she had dropped asleep. When she woke again, she felt her headache begin to ease a little, so she went down to the garden to take some fresh

air.

Cecilia had barely set foot on the front porch, to her annoyance, she saw Mr. Terry's B.M.W coming up the drive. He pulled up his car right at the front of the house as she hopped off the stoop and hurried away from the house so quickly to avoid him, but she was surprised because he got out of his car and followed her so quickly she couldn't flee away. Maybe he'd caught sight of her running away.

"Hey, where're you going, Miss Rodney?" came his voice right behind her that made her feet stop.

When Cecilia didn't respond and turn back to him, he came closer to her. "Trying to avoid me, girl?" asked James. "What am I supposed to call this sort of welcome?" he said, taking a few quick steps to overtake her and turn to face her.

"Why don't you go to work today?" he asked.

Cecilia glanced up nervously at James and saw his usual sardonic smile on his lips that she hated. "I told you not to come to my house again. Don't you remember?" she asked.

"Well, nothing can stop me from coming to your house. I will always come to you," he said, holding his smile.

Cecilia sighed in frustration.

"You didn't answer my question?"

"What?"

"Why don't you go to work?"

"Because I've got a temperature," replied Cecilia.

"You look you've lost some weights, don't you?" he asked, staring at her intensely from head to toe.

Feeling uneasy, Cecilia let out a deep sigh and took a couple more steps away from him.

"If you've got a temperature, you'd better go inside or you'll catch a cold and feel worse than now," advised James.

"I know, but I want to get some fresh air."

He nodded. "I brought you some nourishing food."

She looked at him in surprise. "Oh, don't look for any trouble for me," she said.

"No trouble for me," he said with a smile on his face that let her know she was really meant to him or he would do anything for her as much as he could.

Their eyes briefly met, and it was Cecilia who was the first to look away.

"Come on, let me show you my special gift for you," said James enthusiastically, going over to his car and pulling something huge out of his car's trunk. She reluctantly followed him. To her surprise, it was a large hamper which was filled with the best brands of foods.

Cecilia stared from the hamper to him. "Don't trouble again for me, thank you," she said.

"I told you, girl. No trouble for me," said James, holding up the hamper, closing the trunk and putting the hamper down on it.

Girl! Why did he keep calling her like that, thought Cecilia. She just wanted to ask him. But she didn't.

"I just always want to see you fresh and smile," he said.

"You don't need to worry about me that much."

"I'm worried about you, of course, you said I don't need to, though," he said. "Because you are now as important for me as my life," added James, looking down directly into her eyes. James could see that Cecilia's face turn crimson and she glared up at him hardly.

"What? Have I said something wrong?" asked James.

"Yes, you've said something that makes me annoy."

"Really?" he asked. The smile on his lips faded. "Oh, I have something to ask you," he said suddenly. "Why don't you use the money from the bank?"

"It's because I don't need to use more much money than I have to," she said. "If I need to use for extra, I'll use the money."

"Is everything all right with your company?" asked James.

"Yes."

"Well, it's almost been a year since my dear friend Kenneth has passed away," he said slowly, studying the changing expression on her face. But Cecilia seemed to control her emotion in front of him and looked calm. She nodded.

"Well," he began again. She stared up at his face with some interest what he was going to say about Ken. But her hope was vanished away by his words.

"Can you now give me the answer I want?" he asked,

fixing his eyes on hers again.

"What answer?" she asked.

"What answer?" he repeated. "Don't pretend as if not knowing what I'm asking you. You know exactly what I meant, don't you?"

Cecilia gave a deep sigh in frustration. "I've told you. How many times do I have to tell you that I cannot love anyone but Ken?" she said firmly. "If he came back to me like a Phoenix, I would surely love him in turn, understand?"

James smirked, but that smirk quickly left his lips.

"Imaginary life is not practical, Cecilia," he began with a bossy voice. "I want to change your life into a happy one. You look desolate, girl. So I want to help you warm your life, want to have you, want to love you in my arms…forever and ever," he said, a self-satisfied smile on his face.

Cecilia didn't know what to say to him at the very moment, she felt her whole body numb with embarrassment.

"If you can't love me now, I can wait until the day you would love me comes," he went on, his voice seemed to shake a little.

"I don't love you, so don't love me, please, Mr. Terry," ordered Cecilia. She saw a smile take form on his lips.

"Oh, Cecilia, love is not a thing that you can control. Well, I can't help loving you, I can't help it. You're always in my mind, and I always resound your voice as well as see your face in my mind's eyes. You're my life, my dream, my destiny, my imagination and my future."

Cecilia looked at him in astonishment and wondered if he had gone mad. At the moment, she wasn't sure if she could keep herself from laughing out loud.

"Enough!" she cried. "Well-said. But tell me another. I'm not interested in any of your jokes. Your words and acting were so great. You should've been a writer or an actor instead of a business man," remarked Cecilia, her voice full of sarcasm. "If you kept on saying such silly things to seduce me, I wouldn't put up with you anymore," she spat angrily, swinging away from him and running up the steps to the front door.

"Don't follow me," cried Cecilia as she went into the living room. But after a few moments, it seemed that James Terry didn't care; Cecilia heard his footsteps behind her.

"So what are you going to do to me?" he asked, keeping pace with her and pausing near the coffee table and setting the hamper, that he was holding, down on it.

Cecilia turned on her heel and stared up at him with a quizzical look. "What do you mean?"

"If you don't tolerate my proposal, what're you going to do to me?" said James again.

Cecilia gave him a hard look and said, "I'll divide my share from you. I'll divide all the money, the asset of the firm Ken owned from yours," she said firmly and bitterly, staring at him with a hatred she couldn't hide. James looked surprise. "I believe you know what I mean."

A smirk flickered on James's firm lips. And he nodded

at his thoughts. "Well, of course, I do. You're trying to stand by yourself, aren't you?" he asked, locking his gaze on her.

"Yes, of course," she said boldly. "If you and I keep running the same firm together, we would always have to face each other even though I don't like to meet you. So I think dividing my share from you is the best way, isn't it?"

"The best way to keep away from me, right?" asked James, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. "Well, look, Cecilia, I am neither a weak person nor the one who'll listen to you and follow your advice," he said arrogantly. "You're a share holder of mine. But that's not why I gave you marriage proposal. I did it because I'm in love with you truly, deeply."

It might have been the words from his heart, but it didn't soften her.

"And I want you to know that I'm not an easy target, either, James Terry," said Cecilia.

He nodded, "Okay, I'll take your word for it," said James. "I have no wish to argue with you, so I'd better go back," he said, studying her face for a few seconds. "And…I want to give you something…special," he said with a smile, taking out something that he had been hiding behind his back, and holding it up now.

To her amazement, it was a bouquet of beautiful roses, but not as the same as before. The roses were not yellow but green now. Cecilia stared at them in surprise. He'd got them dyed, she thought. Maybe their original color had been white and he must have got them dyed so that they'd turned

into green. James had done it so on purpose, she thought.

"Why do you give me the roses in that color?" she asked, puzzled.

"Because I guess you like this color, don't you?" he said, a silly smile on his lips. "You poured down green ink on my beautiful yellow roses. Remember? So I brought you these roses this time," said James, leering at her.

Never had she met a more infuriating person in her life, Cecilia thought angrily.

"Okay, I like your great idea," she said.

"You like it?"

"Yeah, I really do," she went on, curling up the right corner of her mouth. "And I'll make your beautiful roses more beautiful than ever," she said, tugging at the bouquet in his hand.

Her unexpected behavior took James by surprise; all of a sudden, Cecilia started to thrash the flowers against the coffee table. He stared at her incredulously and wondered if she was the woman he loved. The petals of the green roses were strewn over the floor. How poor they are! thought James. It hurt, really hurt to see her do to his present for her. She must have seen his pain. He couldn't simply hide his painful expression on his face. "I'm sorry very much to know that you just want to make fun of my love," said James, his voice low. "I really am, Cecilia," he said, moving toward her.

For a split second, she thought she had made him furious too far and he was going to do something to her; to seize her shoulder and shake her vigorously or shout her in the face or something- maybe something terrible, she wondered. But James paused right in front of her and looked down at her. Actually, he was looking down into her eyes as if making sure if what she had done a minute ago was the thing she really wanted to do or she really meant to do.

Her heart was beating so hard and so fast she couldn't think of what she should tell him. But the expression on James's face made her a little relieved. His eyes were not as sharp as she thought they would be. To her surprise, a look of defeat was on his face.

"If that's what you really want," he began slowly, "I hope you're delighted at my failure," he concluded, swinging away from her and taking the final look at the strewn green roses over the floor sadly, and left.

Cecilia was left with a feeling that she could not express. She knew she should feel delighted and smile satisfyingly as he'd said. But for some reason, the look on his face stopped her from feeling happy. Why should I feel like this, she thought. Hateful man! She wished they'd never known each other.