Page 81 of Thick

She raised her free hand and waved. “She’s a lucky lady.”

“No,” I said with a quick grin. “I’m a lucky man.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Bobbi

Following Tate’s suggestion, I had been locked in my apartment for a week, piecing together a Low-Calorie Cookbook. From what I could tell, I needed three more weeks to complete it. If it provided any source of income, I’d continue to make them until the well ran dry.

Convinced there had to be enough women out there who were self-conscious about their weight enough to at least attempt to eat healthy, I added each of my favorite recipes, and included the Weight Watchers points associated with each recipe, serving, and each recommended meal.

While I downloaded photos of my Spanish cauliflower rice, the doorbell rang.

I peered through the peephole. A twenty-something man with white hair, huge glasses, and a monstrous grin stood on the landing. Convinced he was a lost college student, I unlocked my door and opened it slightly.

A cart filled with flowers grabbed every ounce of my attention.

“Who are you looking for?” I asked. “This is 302.”

He looked at a sheet of paper. “11167 Bayside, number 302. Bobbi Madden?”

“That’s me.”

“These are for you. Where would you like them?”

I’d never received flowers before. I wondered if my father had sent me a sympathy bouquet for being amongst the unemployed.

“Which ones,” I asked as I eyed the flower-filled wagon.

“All of them.”

My heart fluttered. “They’re all for me?”

“They sure are.”

“All of them?”

“They sure are,” he shouted.

I opened the door completely and stepped aside. “You can put them on the kitchen table.”

He dragged the wagon inside, looked around my apartment, and then smiled. “Well, isn’t this cute.”

The aroma of the various flowers encompassed me. I watched enthusiastically as he placed them on the table.

“Stargazer Lily arrangement.” He placed a vase on the table. “Red Roses with white lilies.” He lifted another vase from the wagon and set it beside the first. “Yellow roses, purple Monte Casino and blue Delphinium.” He reached for a vase, admired it, and then carefully set it beside the second. “Then, there’s this one.” He set the last vase on the table. “White Asiatic Lilies, white roses, white mini-carnations, blue statice, and, to top it off, a cream spray.”

The entire table was filled with flowers. To describe it as beautiful wouldn’t do it justice. I stood with my jaw flopped opened and stared.

“Ma’am. Ma’am.” He cleared his throat. “Ma’am!”

My eyes shot to him. “Yes?”

“Would you like to lock the door behind me?”

“Yes, thank you.”

When he reached the door, he took one last look at the flowers and smiled.