Gemotions

He surveyed the bouquet with a detached amusement. Deep red roses, perfectly bloomed. He’d handled complex negotiations all week. Victories were nothing new, but to receive flowers, a gesture usually reserved for romantic endeavors, was… intriguing.

His fingers, usually drumming on conference tables, now gently traced a petal. The gesture was almost mocking. It was a pleasant sensation. His tailored suit was crisp, his gaze steely.

He imagined the various people who may have sent them. A rival perhaps, showing respect? Or a secret admirer, finally admitting defeat? He made a mental note to enjoy the flowers before heading out, it was his time.