Romantic One Shots & Imagines

One Shot #19: Secret Admirer

     Another monday, another mundane work day. The only thing that keeps me going is the fact that it pays the bills. When I finish my degree, I'll finally find a job that I'm passionate about. Until then, it's back to the cubicle in the IT department.

     Half asleep still, I almost miss the difference on my desk. Placed delicately among the mess of papers, I find a single red rose. My curiosity woke me up. Gingerly, I picked the flower up and twirled it around. My mind wandered to all ends, thinking of who, how, why...Regardless, a smile crept up on my face.

     The many possibilities of how it  found itself on my desk distracted me from my duties. What should have been a 1 minute explanation on how to use a CD rom, ended up being 10 minutes worth of me stuttering and losing my train of thought. With every man that walked by, the thought popped in my head, "Is it him? Did he send it?" In a matter of three hours, I had become completely submerged in the mystery.

     Punching out for the day, I grab my stuff to leave. When I move my chair, I notice a slip of paper on the floor. As I pick it up, I figure out that the smooth stationary is a card with a slight fragrance to it. Inside it reads: In loving thee, thou know'st I am forsworn. I stand there in shock trying to decode the meaning. This person is in love with me? Who ever it is, they have a way with words.

     Laying up in bed, the light of my phone blinds me as I google the line that soon filled my thoughts. Come to find out, its a line from one of Shakespeare's many sonnets. "Forsworn. /fôrˈswern/ - Agree to give up or do without; break promise; commit perjury". This stranger loves me despite having lied to do so? As I lay down, staring up into the darkness, I start to think about how absurd the situation was and that the rose really wasn't meant for me.

     Tuesday seemed to have proved my theory even further when I entered my cubicle. There was no trace of a rose or card. Despite knowing that it was for the best, my heart still sank slightly in disappointment. My work definitely appreciated it as I was able to leave early from getting everything done quickly. It was Wednesday, however, that left me reeling. I walked in to find yet another rose accompanied by another two bound together by a white ribbon. This time, the card was on my desk: "When most I wink, then do mine eyes best see, For all the day they view things unrespected; But when I sleep, in dreams they look on thee," On the back, it read: "The first rose is for today, the second is for Tuesday, and the third is an apology, as I was not able to send one Tuesday."

     After much research, I find out that it is yet another excerpt from a Shakespearean sonnet. Is it that British guy that works in marketing or is that too obvious? An American can like Shakespeare... But what if it is him? Jim is pretty nice, but he's an extrovert. If he wanted to tell me he liked me, he would come out and say it. Maybe he's the romantic type. The rest of the day, I made excuses to go up to the 5th floor where marketing is located. All trace of logic faded away as I slipped glances at Jim while trying to look productive. I would slyly look up from a newspaper in the lounge, follow him to the copying room and pretend to replace the ink, mindlessly chat with the receptionist while he was chatting with the boss across the hall.

     By friday, I had made friends with four new people from marketing; each of them unknowingly apart of my creeping. Stacy, for example, talked my ear off yesterday about her cats. Luckily, she didn't notice how my gaze frequently flickered from hers to Jim in the distance. I enjoy the flowers and cards, but I'm wondering when he's going to finally come up to me and ask me out. 

     The elevator dings as it opens. I smile at the people already in there as I press the button for the 5th floor.

          "Hey, you're Tessa aren't you? From IT?" A voice from behind asks.

           I turn to meet a petite woman with dark brown hair. "Yes."

          "Great. I've been trying to get someone from IT all morning. Could you take a look at my computer right quick? Its acting all...glitchy." Despite her frustration, she exuded tranquility and friendliness.

          "Of course." I say, trying to match her tone.

           "Thanks. I'm right on the 8th floor." She smiles.

     I have to keep reminding myself that this is my job and that's what I'm here for. I watch in disappointment as the elevator doors open and close for the 5th floor. We are the only two left in the small room.

           "Thanks again." She says shyly. "I don't mean to cut into your busy schedule."

           "No problem. Its my job." I respond. We quickly round the corner and walk into her office. I walk straight up to her computer. The faster this is over... "I'm sorry, what did you say the problem was?"

            "I have to be honest with you..." She starts as she becomes fixated on her mug. "I don't have a problem with my computer..." Her eyes locks with mine as she takes a step closer. "I just made that up so I could ask you what you thought."

           Cautiously, I ask, "What I thought of what?"

          "The roses and the cards. I hope they weren't cheesy but I thought they were perfect..." She smiles. "...and I have a thing for Shakespeare."

           "You sent those?"

            She nods. "Did you like them?"

           "I...I...Uhhh" I tried to speak.

           "You've bewitched me, did you know that?" I shake my head. "Ever since the first day I saw you last year. I didn't want to play on my feelings. I couldn't play on my feelings; I'm sure you can understand why."

          "I didn't think..." I pause, trying to think of the proper words.

          "You didn't think a woman would be the one to come in early everyday just to leave a rose on your desk before you came in." I shook my head slowly. "I knew you would never feel the same, but I figured that it was now or never." She laughed nervously. "Its ok, I just wanted you to know." Her eyes fill with melancholy as she steps away from me.

The End.

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