Gemotions

"Oh, for crying out loud," Sarah muttered, her voice a low growl. She snatched the bouquet from the confused teenager at the front desk. Lavender and baby’s breath. How utterly predictable. She hadn't ordered flowers.

She stalked back to her office, the floral arrangement bobbing precariously in her arms. The smell was already starting to give her a headache. She dropped the bouquet onto her desk with a thud, scattering papers. This was the third delivery this week. Each one a fragrant, silent accusation. She wished, with a sudden ferocity, that the sender would just *say* something.