Page 46 of After the Fall
“Also known as…”
“The corpse flower,” I yelled, making sense of the rotten smell. “I can’t believe you have one.”
“Neither can I. It’s facing extinction, you know. One day, this might be the last of its kind.” He fiddled with the temperaturesettings on the wall, looking somber. “I think I’ll just shift it to the left here where it will get more sun.”
I lifted the giant pot, grunting. “Over here?”
Tim nodded, gaping. I carefully set the flower pot down into the sunbeam, and used my hand to brush away the sweat that had begun to creep onto my forehead.
Tim’s eyes narrowed. “You just lifted forty pounds without even straining. I wasn’t expecting that. No offence,” he added.
I laughed, shrugging my shoulders. “None taken. I guess I’m stronger than I look.” It was a surprise to me, also. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d worked out or lifted weights.
Morning sunlight filtered through the windows of the greenhouse, lighting up the deep burgundy of the petals. Tim smiled in appreciation. “I was thrilled that she chose to open for today’s lesson. The rafflesia blooms so unpredictably. It could be another decade before we see it again.”
“How many times have you seen it bloom?”
His eyes scrunched, and when they finally reopened, they were sparkling. “Maybe thirty times? I’ve been very fortunate.”
My gasp was louder than I intended and I covered my mouth. “Sorry,” I mumbled, embarrassed. “But… every decade? That would make you at least…”
Tim laughed and combed his hand through his thick head of hair. “It’s not like I chose this hair color, Harper. I’ve been around a very long time.”
“Are you giving away all of our secrets, Tim?” The thick Portuguese accent dripped with disdain. Both Tim and I shot our eyes toward the intrusion. “Oh, don’t stop on my account. I find your little botanical lesson…” Valentina smacked her lips together, enunciating each syllable. “Endearing.”
Standing in her jet-high heels, one hand on her hip, Valentina towered over the potted palms. The shade of her lipstick matched the color of the corpse flower. Fitting, sincethey had a lot in common. They might have both looked beautiful on the outside, but inside, they were ugly, hideous things.
Tim’s eyes hardened. “What can I do for you?”
The temperature seemed to shoot up by about ten degrees, and sweat prickled the back of my neck. I searched for the nearest exit, preparing for an escape.
As if she could read my mind, Valentina extended her palm. “No need to scamper away on my account, Harper.” Her eyes returned to Tim. “I’m here to see what you have available in terms of a corsage. Something that will match my emerald dress for the gala.”
“You’re going to the gala?” I shouldn’t have been surprised. The South Americans had come to help Wyatt stop the Carders, and the gala was an integral part of his plan. But hearing the words come from her mouth made it real, and I cringed at the thought of having to spend an entire evening in the company of my arch nemesis.
“But of course,” she smirked. “Wyatt needs some arm candy, so I agreed to be his date.”
My eyes narrowed. “You’re lying.”
“Oh Harper, I’d forgotten what a naive child you could be. Did you really think your boyfriend,” her voice lowered, laced in contempt, “would take you to an important event like this? I’m sure it’s been fun playing house, but at some point, Wyatt will grow sick of you and your…” she waved her hand like she was shooing away the smell of the corpse flower, and scrunched her nose. “Humanity. If he hasn’t already.”
Tim shuffled on his feet. “Allow me to show you some options, Valentina.” He crooked his elbow, and Valentina smiled slyly, linking her arm in his. Tim was tall, but in her heels, Valentina towered over him by a few inches.
As he led her down the aisle, his head turned briefly. Our eyes caught for a brief second, and it was enough to feel the apology contained within them.
I willed away the tear that threatened to fall as the two sasquatches disappeared into the lush greenery, focusing instead on the rage brewing inside me.
The glass door of the greenhouse swung shut behind me as I stormed across the lawn. I needed to find Wyatt.
Inside the kitchen, a group of men I didn’t recognize were seated around the marble island. Their loud chomping rivaled the sound of their voices.
“Have any of you seen Wyatt?” Their chatter came to an abrupt halt. It was the first time I’d spoken a word to any of the South Americans, aside from Valentina.
Crumbs flew from the mouth of a blond-haired man as he muttered, “Office.”
I stormed out of the kitchen without another word, and stomped up the stairs, my anger growing and peaking as I reached Wyatt’s office door. My hand froze on the doorknob, but before I could lose my nerve, I pushed inside.
Atticus and Tank were seated on the couch across from Wyatt, who sat in the leather wingback chair with his back to the door. Their eyes widened at my presence.