When Mac pushed open her office door she saw a gorgeous bouquet of blood red, long-stemmed roses sitting on her desk in a crystal vase. When she pulled the card it said, "With Much Love, Billy," and below his name the number thirteen was written. When she counted the roses, there were thirteen of them.
She looked down at the calendar on her desk. No, not Valentine's Day. Not her birthday or his. Not even the anniversary of their first date. What the hell? He really was trying to drive her insane.
They were on better terms lately. They were managing, most of the time, to get through the day without a hurtful look or comment. They had even enjoyed the occasional lunch or dinner together during a harried work day. Every now and then, she was sure she had even caught him looking at her with something vaguely akin to longing. So what the hell did these flowers mean?
Only one way to find out she decided, go straight to the source. She walked to his office and saw him leaning against the front of his desk. She pushed open his door and said, "good morning."
"Good morning, Mackenzie," he replied, smiling at her.
She came to stand in front of him and stared at him for just a second, until she was certain she had his full and complete attention. She kissed his cheek and said, "thank you for the gorgeous roses."
"You're welcome."
"What does the number thirteen mean?"
He smiled at her and said, "that's for you to figure out."
"Billy," she whined but all he would do was smile at her. He knew that this would be on her mind until she figured it out. She didn't move from in front of him and watched him hoping he'd give something away. She had no such luck. Charlie interrupted them, saying he was going for breakfast and asking if they wanted to join him.
They agreed to join Charlie and as they made their way down the hall Will placed his hand on her back and rubbed gently. She turned and looked at him as he continued his conversation with Charlie, paying her no attention as they walked to the elevator.
The rest of their day went on as normal. No overt touches, no other gifts, nothing. The broadcast wasn't anything special; it was a good show, but nothing extraordinary. He stuck his head into her office before he left with Lonny and said goodnight to her.
She'd spent a good bit of the day and night trying to figure out what he was doing and came up with nothing. She'd stopped on her way to work the next morning to pick up coffees for both of them. She noticed his light wasn't yet on and walked to her office where there was a basket of Cadbury Flake candy bars. She smiled at the candy and pulled the card off. Same card as yesterday and signed the same way, "With Much Love, Billy." This time there was the number twelve underneath his name. She counted the bars and there were twelve of them. So, he was doing some sort of countdown, but to what? What was going to happen in twelve days? He knew this was going to drive her mad. She smiled at the thought.
When she saw the lights come on in his office, she made her way there carrying the coffees along with her.
"Are you trying to fatten me up?" she asked, standing in the doorway.
"I would have bought more than twelve Flake bars if that were the case."
She handed him his coffee and took a seat in front of his desk, contemplating the half-smirk on his face. He was enjoying this!
"Am I meant to understand what all this means? Because I don't, you know."
"You'll figure it out Mac. I have faith in you," he replied simply, and turned to pull some papers out of his briefcase.
"What if I don't?" she asked.
"For God's sake Mackenzie, just relax. This isn't some sort of IQ test. I won't be firing you if the answers aren't correct!" he huffed out in exasperation.
"But…" she started, until he cut her off.
"Mackenzie, go back to work please."
"Fine, but if I screw up a broadcast because I'm trying to figure out what the hell you're playing at, there will be hell to pay William Duncan McAvoy!" she nearly shouted as she left the room.
"Yes, dear," he muttered to her retreating form.
"I heard that!" she shouted back. Dear…he had just called her dear. She threw herself into her office chair and stared at her calendar, mentally willing it to give her an answer. Nothing came.
The next day, just as she was preparing to leave her home, the doorbell rang. She answered to find a small box on her front stoop. She carefully pried open the beautifully wrapped box to find eleven chocolate covered strawberries nestled inside. They were from her favorite confectionary. Something she never purchased for herself, but Will knew she secretly adored eating them for breakfast, hence the early morning delivery to her apartment. She unwrapped one and bit into it, savoring the taste and pouring a little more coffee into her cup so she could enjoy this morning treat.
She looked down at the card and noticed the same phrase appeared. It said "With Much Love, Billy," and the number eleven underneath. Only this time the card also read, "Stop Analyzing and Start Enjoying Mackenzie." She laughed at his admonishment.
She couldn't stop analyzing and both she, and he, knew that. He wanted her to figure something out. What was happening in now eleven days? She opened the calendar on her phone to figure out the date. The date of day one would fall on March 15th. The Ides of March. Shakespeare. What was he playing at? A Shakespearean tragedy?
She finished getting ready for work and grabbed the strawberries as she walked out her door. When she arrived at work she was carrying two coffees and she walked into a quiet newsroom. His office was illuminated. He was never in this early, but she was glad he was.
She pushed into his office. "Good morning, Billy."
He sat there smiling at her. "Good morning."
She handed him a coffee as she came around his desk. She rested against his desk, next to him. She waited until she had his attention.
"Thanks for the coffee."
"You're welcome," she said opening the strawberries and unwrapping one of them. She held the berry up to his mouth. She wasn't sure if he was going to play along, or not.
His hand came up to hold her wrist, watching her intently, and bit into the strawberry. After he swallowed he said, "thank you."
"You're welcome." He finished the strawberry, never taking his eyes off of her.
"Are you enjoying now?"
"I am, but you know I'm still analyzing, too."
"I wouldn't expect any less," he said. "You'll figure it out."
"I hope so," she said, "I better get at it."
"I'll see you later, Mac."
"Bye, Billy."
She spent the day focusing on March 15th when she wasn't focusing on producing tonight's broadcast. Every time she saw him he smiled at her, but he was not giving anything away. After the show she was the first to leave, stopping in to say good night to him.
"Going to Hang Chew's?" he asked, still in his Armani suit.
"No, I'm going home," she said. She stepped over to him and kissed his cheek. "Good night, Billy."
Before she got away from him, he placed one hand on her cheek and kissed the other. "Good night, Mackenzie."
Her dreams were filled of him. The morning came too early as she wanted to stay with him in her dreams. Her alarm sounded very early and shortly thereafter the doorbell rang. When she answered the door there was a delivery person there, handing her a package.
She thanked the messenger and took the package into the kitchen and started the coffee. She opened the package and saw a new iPod with attachments for running. How well he knew her. The note again said, "With Much Love, Billy." The number was ten. Today's note also said to listen to the playlist titled Mackenzie. She placed the ear buds in her ears and started the playlist. She instantly recognized his guitar playing. There were ten of her favorite songs all performed by him.
As she listened to song after song of his achingly sweet voice, the tears poured down her face. How had she ever hurt this man? She still didn't understand it herself, but she knew she would never do it again. And maybe, just maybe, he was giving her the chance to prove it.
But Mackenzie found herself unable to look at him once she reached the office. She felt like he had just poured his heart out to her on those recordings but he still hadn't said a word about what all of this meant. She was beginning to feel like he was dangling a prize before her that could just as quickly be pulled away. She knew that he wouldn't be that cruel, but part of her just couldn't shake the feeling of uneasiness that was building.
She wandered through the day, lost in thought, and avoiding Will at every turn. She spent a restless evening padding around her apartment looking for anything to take her mind off this series of gifts.
After a sleepless night, she woke to find nothing on her front stoop. There was no note…no package. Maybe she had upset him yesterday with her cool and distant reaction to him.
Nervously, she approached her office and pushed through the door. Nothing was misplaced and there was no gift wrapped parcel on her desk. Damn, she had upset him and he was giving up. She flopped down into her chair and cursed her own impatience and stupidity.
Just then Sloan barged into her office carrying a large bag from Harney and Sons Tea Company.
"Is it your birthday Kenz?" Sloan asked head tilted questioningly.
"No, and I'm guessing this isn't from you," Mackenzie replied.
"Hell no! Do you know how much a gift bag this size would cost at that place? I like you a lot Mackenzie, but something like this would dip into my Prada budget."
"Well, we can't have that can we? Will sent you didn't he?"
"He did. And I believe I deserve some answers here, because I didn't go to grad school so I could become a messenger. What the hell is going on Kenz?"
"If I knew I'd tell you. Actually, no I wouldn't. But I still don't know."
Mackenzie carefully looked inside the large bag Sloan had set on her desk. Inside was a beautiful china tea set and several varieties of herbal teas. Most seemed to be decaffeinated or sleepytime brews. There was a small box sitting atop the rest of the items. She pulled it out and opened it.
Inside was a tea cup with the infamous British World War II motto "Keep Calm and Carry On," painted on it. Inside the cup was a note. It read: You are going to drive yourself insane if you keep obsessing over this Mac. Relax and enjoy the moment. With Much Love, Billy.
She looked at the card and the small number 9 written beneath his message. She couldn't help herself, she began laughing hysterically. She fell into her chair clutching her stomach.
"Have you finally lost it Mackenzie?" Sloan asked, looking on as her friend laughed so hard tears began to roll down her face.
"Not yet, but give it a few more days Sloan," Mackenzie replied. How in the world was she going to survive more than another week of this?
"Oh my God, he's wooing you!" Sloan suddenly burst out and began pacing the office.
"What?!" Mackenzie asked, shocked at both Sloan's suddenly realization and the term she had used.
"He's wooing you Mackenzie. Don't you get it? The man is an old-fashioned romantic and for some reason I'm guessing he didn't do this the first time around, so he's going back and doing everything he wanted to do before. He's wooing you Mackenzie McHale and if I know you, you're obsessing over every God damn detail of it instead of just taking it in."
Mackenzie stopped and thought about what Sloan was saying. Was that really it? No deep meaning, no secret plan….he was just trying to sweep her off her feet?
"You didn't know, did you?" Sloan asked.
"No."
"What the hell did you think he was doing?"
"Setting me up?" Mackenzie whispered.
"God, you two really are totally fucked up?!"
"Sloan!"
"What? All I'm saying is that for two incredibly smart people you sure can misread each other."
It was true. In the studio they could read each other's minds...finish each other's sentences. In a relationship they somehow always managed to misinterpret what was going on. For instance, there was that time Will was ready for her to move in and she was already sleeping with someone else. Could they really do this again and not have it all explode in their faces?
"Stop it Kenz!" Sloan shouted.
"What?" Mackenzie asked.
"You're not going to fuck it up this time, okay?" Sloan reassured her quietly.
"How do you know? You weren't around for the first act of the play," Mackenzie said quietly.
"No, I wasn't. But I know how you two look at each other and let's face it, neither of you are exactly spring chickens anymore."
"Thank you Sloan."
"As I was saying, you're getting too old to fuck around with this anymore. True love doesn't come around that often and even the two of you aren't stupid enough to let it go twice. So sit back and enjoy the ride Mackenzie. This is the last time you are going to be wooed in your life, because Will McAvoy is it for you."
She had a point. "You're right Sloan. Thank you."
"Of course I'm right. I'm a genius. Now, go thank your man." And with that, Sloan left her alone with her thoughts.
Mac walked into Will's office and sat in the chair in front of his desk. She didn't say anything and he could see she'd been crying.
"What's wrong, Mac?" he asked quietly, getting up and coming around the desk to lean against the front, next to her.
"Sloan thinks you're wooing me."
"Sloan is very smart," he replied, not giving anything away.
"Thank you for the tea and china."
"You're welcome."
He knew she was unsettled. He held out his hand and she looked at him and finally took a hold of it. He pulled her up from the chair and into his arms and held her. "Do you want me to stop?" he asked quietly.