The rain pounded against the windows of the large boardroom, but Myka Bering heard none of it as she sat in silence, vaguely listening to the meeting being held there. Her thoughts were decidedly elsewhere, specifically thinking of the two-year anniversary this very weekend would mark.
She startled out of her thoughts as Pete, her best friend sitting beside her, gently shook her chair to get her attention.
"Mykes, you've got a phone call," he gestured to the secretary standing in the doorway of the boardroom looking at Myka expectantly.
"I'm sorry, Ms. Bering," she spoke apologetically, "but your mother is on the line, she says it's urgent."
Myka sprang from her seat and followed the secretary out the door, Pete watching her leave with concern.
Retreating to her office to take the call, Myka frantically asked, "Mom, what is it?"
"It's your father, Myka. He's had a heart attack." She sank into her chair distraught as she listened to her mother give her more details.
"All right, I'll catch the first flight out of New York. I should be there late tonight," she spoke determined.
Pete heard the last sentence as he entered Myka's office.
"Everything okay, Mykes?"
She shook her head. "My father had a heart attack. I have to find Artie to ask for time off work," she replied as she began to move towards the door in search of him.
"Hang on, Mykes," Pete stepped forward, holding out his arms to grasp her shoulders and stable her. "I'll handle Artie, you just go home to your dad, all right? Take all the time you need."
Myka nodded. "Thanks, Pete," she said turning back to gather her coat and satchel before rushing out of her office. Pete watched her go, concern still marking his face.
Myka stumbled into her darkened apartment, dropping her bags unceremoniously onto the floor by the door, too weary to bother unpacking them at the moment. As tired as she was, and as late as it was, Myka knew sleep wouldn't be forthcoming. Her mind would not be still, thoughts troubling her. She removed her overcoat, placing it on the back of the sofa before switching on a lamp to emit a soft glow about the room. Pacing the floor, biting her lip, she finally settled at the window seat to reflect on her brief trip home.
The trip back to Colorado Springs hadn't been a pleasant one, though visits back rarely were where her family was concerned. She endured biting sarcasm from her father, condescension from her sister and excuses from her mother. Myka's relationship with them all was as strained as ever, and two days in their presence was enough to last her another two years. She sighed heavily at the thought.
Her thoughts turned to another aspect of her trip to Colorado, Sam. The weekend marked two years from his untimely death, and what seemed to be the end of any happiness for Myka.
Frustrated with her family, Myka managed to escape from them for a few hours during her visit. She found herself driving away from the hospital, away from her family, to Denver, where she wasn't at all surprised to find herself at a cemetery.
She didn't allow herself to cry as she stood beside Sam's graveside. Even her memories of that horrible day didn't draw tears. She and Sam had been so happy together. He had called her at work that morning, asking her to meet him for lunch because he'd had something he wanted to tell her. She never learned what it was.
She remembered sitting outside at a small café they frequented, enjoying the warm sunshine on her face, likely the last to experience as autumn fast approached, when she heard Sam call out her name from across the street. In his obvious excitement, he started to cross the street too early, just as the light began to change. A driver, anxious to beat the light, sped up just as Sam stepped out. It was over in the blink of an eye. Myka reached him just as he took his last breath.
Overcome with solitude, safe in the comfort of her own apartment, Myka couldn't stop the tears from falling. It had all been too much to bear. Her father's illness and apparent indifference coupled with the memory of Sam's death was so overwhelming, Myka braced herself against the window as sobs wracked her body.
Helena Wells often found her dreams troubled with nightmares. She avoided sleep whenever possible. The result being she worked hard during the day to occupy her thoughts, and at night, she took long walks, trying desperately to clear her mind.
Her walk tonight led her down a street she hadn't traveled in some time. The street was quiet, as expected, all the lights in the windows darkened, except one. Helena's gait slowed as she noticed a light spilling onto the sidewalk before her. She stopped entirely as she gazed above her to see that inside the lighted window sat a woman, sobbing uncontrollably.
Helena recognized that kind of anguish all too well, knew the kind of grief it must have caused. She swallowed back her own tears at the sight. Turning her collar up to guard against a slight breeze, Helena decided to keep the other woman company, even if she didn't realize Helena's presence. Time passed unheeded as Helena continued to watch the other woman in silence. She watched until her gaze became blurry with her own tears, she watched until the other woman finally dried her eyes and left the window, she watched until the light turned off, leaving her in darkness once more. Only then did she turn away to begin the long walk home, her mind whirling with thoughts.
Sleep had mostly eluded Myka during the night as she turned fitfully during what little sleep she did manage. Frustrated at last, she decided to get up and dress for work. She'd been working steady for an hour and a half before the office started to buzz to life with the sounds her coworkers laughing and talking, coffee pots brewing, copier machines running and phones ringing. The routine noise was oddly enough comforting to Myka, who despite the distraction work offered her, had spent too much of her morning lost in her thoughts.
She even managed a brief smile to herself as Artie passed her door with his usual gruff offer of "Good morning." There was comfort in some things never changing.
It wasn't long after Artie's good morning that her coworker and best friend Pete Lattimer dropped by her office to offer her a half-eaten donut.
"You know I don't eat sugar, Pete," she spoke.
"That's why I don't feel guilty offering you a half-eaten donut," he replied with a laugh. "How was the trip home?" he asked.
"I don't really want to talk about it," Myka replied not meeting his eyes.
"That good, huh?" he nodded knowingly. "How about we talk later, over drinks?" A nice vodka tonic for you and a cream soda for me, what do you say?" he asked grinning.
Myka tried to smile back but could only manage a sigh instead. "We'll see," she said turning back to her computer screen and Pete knew by her look of determination he had been dismissed for the time being.
"All right then," he spoke resignedly. "Catch you later, Mykes."
Myka sighed with guilty relief as her door closed behind Pete and once again she was enveloped in silence. The silence was short-lived however when Abigail, another coworker and friend, knocked on her door just before entering.
"You have a delivery at the receptionist desk, Myka," she spoke smiling.
"A delivery?" Myka asked perplexed. "What is it?"
Abigail smiled wider. "You'll just have to come to the front desk to find out," she replied conspiratorially.
Myka rubbed at the back of her neck in hesitation, and resigned at last, stood from her desk to follow Abigail down the hall. Distracted by her thoughts, Myka very nearly collided into Abigail as the other woman stopped abruptly to turn and smile at her.
She met Abigail's smiling face just before her gaze fell on the most beautiful arrangement of flowers she'd ever seen. Myka's clear green eyes widened in surprise and she looked at Abigail as if to say, 'these are for me?' Abigail, seeing her bewilderment, only nodded in confirmation. Reflexively Myka stepped forward and gently fingered the soft petal of a peony.
Myka looked back to Abigail. "Who?" she asked shaking her head in awe.
"There's a card there," Abigail replied pointing to the middle of the bouquet.
Grasping the card, Myka removed the note from the small envelope. In an elegant script, the card only said, 'For Myka Bering.'
"It doesn't say who sent it," she spoke to Abigail confused.
"It must be a secret admirer then," Abigail replied joyfully. "Quite an admirer, at that."
Myka scoffed. "There's no one, believe me," she spoke rather forlornly.
"Excuse me for being presumptuous, but these flowers say otherwise," Abigail replied with a grin as she turned away to return to her office.
Myka turned back to the flowers and couldn't help the faintest smile that graced her lips.
Someone cleared their throat behind her and Myka turned sharply to meet the dark insightful eyes of a beautiful woman with raven hair. The woman exuded elegance and didn't look like an ordinary delivery person, wearing slacks and a vest over a button down white blouse. Myka was only further surprised by the distinguished British accent emanating from the woman's voice.
"If you put a little 7-up in the water, the flowers should last longer. I know it sounds odd, but it truly works," she said smiling softly as she handed Myka a delivery slip to sign.
Myka tore her eyes from the woman's gaze long enough to sign the slip, their fingers lightly brushing as Myka returned the signed slip to her. Their eyes met as they shyly looked at one another.
"Enjoy your flowers," the woman spoke lowly with a slight nod of her head.
"I will, thank you," Myka replied back softly. Taking the large bouquet into her arms, she turned to walk back to her office, missing the fact that the delivery woman turned to watch her go, a smile of satisfaction on her lips.
Myka set the flowers on the end of her desk and sat staring at them, her fingers lightly brushing the mysterious card that came with them. Biting her lip, she finally picked up her phone to dial Pete's extension.
"Hey, Mykes, what's up?"
"Hey, Pete, you wouldn't have given me flowers by any chance?" she asked uneasily into the phone, and even as the words were out of her mouth, she knew the distinct unlikelihood of Pete ever sending her flowers, for any reason, let alone out of the blue.
Pete laughed lightly. "You know I love you, Mykes, but I can barely remember to give Kelly flowers, the woman I really love, on our anniversary, let alone give you flowers."
"Right," Myka breathed on a sigh. "I just had to be sure."
"So, someone gave you flowers, huh? Sounds like a secret admirer to me."
Myka huffed annoyed. "It's not an admirer, it's probably just a mistake," she said even though she knew it wasn't. The card said her name, the flowers were undeniably meant for her.
"Ah, Mykes, you're too hard on yourself. You're a good looking woman, anyone in this office could have sent you flowers…"
"I'm hanging up now," Myka warned just before cutting off Pete's ramblings.
Myka sat back in her chair and sighed. For now the sender of the flowers would remain a mystery – she had work to do.
Artie Nielsen prided himself on knowing his employees. He might be a bit gruff on the outside, appearing as though he cared little about the exploits of his employees, but really he cared a great deal about them.
He found himself feeling concerned now about his hardest working employee, Myka. She hadn't missed a day of work in the two years she worked for him, only to take off last Friday. And now here on Monday, as she gave the presentation, the normally professional and confident woman seemed distracted, distant, and…sorrowful. He didn't know the reason for her taking off Friday, but whatever happened, she was still feeling its effects.
Myka finished her part of the presentation and Pete took over. Artie listened half-heartedly to Pete as he continued to observe Myka. She sat silently, her eyes dropping to her hands in her lap, completely disengaged from the meeting. Her thoughts turned inward, to Sam, to her father, wondering why she could never seem to do anything right in his eyes.
As all the rest of the employees emptied the boardroom, Artie remained behind, watching Myka who still hadn't moved. She was so absorbed in her thoughts she was completely unaware she and Artie were alone.
"Take the day off, Myka," Artie's voice startled her out of her reverie.
She looked around the empty boardroom almost frantically.
"What sir?" she asked confused.
"I said take the day off," he said rising from the table, gathering paperwork.
"That's not necessary," she hastily replied as she too began to gather her notebooks.
"It's not up for debate. Take the rest of the day off, tomorrow too," he added in afterthought.
"Artie, I assure you, I don't need to…" she tried to explain moving towards him at the door.
"Good then. The rest of the week it is." Pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose he looked up at her, his gaze softening. "Myka, don't argue with me. Something is bothering you. I don't know what it is and it's none of my business, but you need to take care of yourself.
"Being married to a doctor, I know all too well that things that bother us in the mind, can turn around and bother us in the body. I'd rather not see that happen to you," he said awkwardly giving her a gentle squeeze on her arm. "Besides, Vanessa would never forgive me if I allowed the well being of one of my employees to suffer when I could have done something, so take the time off," he said firmly.
"But the presentation next week, we have to prepare…" Myka tried one last attempt to argue.
"Despite both our reservations, Pete can handle it."
Myka raised a skeptical brow.
Artie nodded. "I know, I never thought I'd hear myself say those words either, but he can and will. You will go home, or go out, or whatever it is you need to do, but you will not step foot in this office again until next week. Am I clear?"
"Yes sir," Myka spoke troubled.
