I know y’all have been waiting with bated breath.

I present to you… chapter two:

An Expected Surprise

2. WORK CAKES

It was Friday morning now, more than 24 hours after Harold had received the mysterious letter. He arrived at work once again and locked his car, admiring the gorgeous November morning while scanning his badge to get in.

Tristan had come over to hang out the night prior, but found the letter business just as bizarre as Harold. They’d talked out whodunnit theories over a few beers, but nothing sounded quite right.

The Grizzlies won, and Harold slept terribly.

What Harold was too embarrassed to share, even with his good friend, was a hunch that the letter might have something to do with his ex-girlfriend. Roses were something they’d shared ever since he’d gotten her an extravagant bouquet for her birthday years back. To him, she was his rose, and he’d told her as much.

Harold shook the feeling. It was too far-fetched. Why not reach out in a normal way? Well, other than the fact that he might still be blocked… And why so convoluted and strange a message? Skylar had moved away. She wasn’t in the picture anymore. Still, he couldn’t help but agonize over why the card had to have that damn rose on it…

“Good morning, Harry.”

He was at his desk now. Business-as-usual in the hive, but with the hint of a pre-weekend buzz.

“Good morning, Reggie” replied Harold to his office neighbor. “Happy Friday, my guy.”

“Happy Friday!” Reggie returned. Reggie was a good neighbor because he didn’t clack on his keyboard too hard or overdo it with the pleasantries. Two underrated qualities if you asked Harold.

But the coworker Harold really wanted to see today was his cubicle-mate Carrie. She’d been atypically absent the previous day, and Harold hadn’t wanted to bother her while she was at home. Still, he and Carrie had come up at the company together (helping each other with their modest b2b software deals), and she was someone he felt comfortable sharing things with.

One of Harold’s initial thoughts was that the letter might be some kind of work prank, but he’d waited to confirm that theory with his neighborly confidant.

Carrie Turner was usually a cool cat, but she was flustered when she came in. Still adorned in a fetching violet pullover, she explained in breathless fashion how her daughter had come down with pneumonia, but was feeling better now. Harold tried to sympathize, but he couldn’t imagine what it was like to have kids.

Hearing Carrie speak about her daughter made him feel foolish about his problems and how they paled in comparison. What was worrying about yourself compared to worrying about small children? Despite that though, Carrie seemed in good enough water-cooler spirits, so Harold figured he might as well take a stab at it.

“Hey Carrie, can I ask you something real quick?”

“What’s up?” Carrie chimed brightly. “Another report you’ve grown clueless how to fill out?” She flashed him a curt smile, catching momentarily in the gleam of the window. She was pretty when her face lightened up, but unlike some of the other guys at the office, Harold never mentioned it.

“Not exactly. Well, it’s a bit odd actually…”

And Harold gave Carrie the same briefing he’d given Tristan the day prior. After he finished, he leaned in a bit and lowered his voice in a serious tone: “Do you think it could be someone at the office messing with me?”

She laughed in his face.

“Oh Harry, lighten up!” Carrie admonished him in a far louder voice, before shushing to meet his tone. “They’re mostly normies around here. Plus, look on the bright side! Maybe you’re getting a bonus, or a promotion! Hell, the old man even bought Julia a new car last year after her accident, and you know the guy is one for corny jokes.”

“I mean sure, but, I just don’t think cupcakes and roses are really his style—”

A stranger at the front desk caught his attention. Stopping shortly at the receptionist, and now striding to the kitchen counter, was a courier with a timely delivery. He held in his hands a deluxe array of red velvet cupcakes.

“Ha, and you were saying?” Carrie flashed him another wide grin. She joined a few others in checking out the goods, motioning for Harold to join.

Cupcakes? But it was too convenient…

Surely this wasn’t the work of Old Bill. The letter was too eccentric, even for him. The tidy-enough cursive certainly could not have been his, but his assistant maybe? The old drunk was too nonchalant in his constant traveling to even respond to Harold’s emails…

But yet, there were cupcakes in the kitchen.

Recovering from his meager paralysis, Harold found himself slowly moving towards the elevator bay. He caught the delivery guy waiting for the next ride.

“Hey man…” Harold gasped quickly. “Do you know who, uh… who sent those?” Harold waved in the direction of the kitchen.

“No idea, I’m just the delivery guy” said the courier with a shoulder shrug and a grin. “But they look delicious. Have one for me, will ya?”

He kept smiling as the elevator opened and he stepped in. The doors swallowed him whole.

Looking on, Harold finally had a smile himself. Had he said something funny? He didn’t think so. And he certainly wouldn’t be having any cupcakes. He continued his hovering stupor into the hallway bathroom, relieved to find no one around.

Approaching the sink, he finger-combed his hair back, inadvertently splashing water along his collar. His dilated eyes were in need of more light, and he at-once determined that today wasn’t going too well.

Harold asked his reflection the question that had been bugging him most:

“Did I piss someone off?”

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