"I am so sorry I'm late," Roger's voice called out from behind her.
She stood from the bench she had occupied for nearly fifteen minutes and turned to see him practically jogging towards her.
"It is no matter," she lied. It did matter. It mattered very much. She had almost begun to cry having sat there for so long, waiting, dreading that she'd been taken for a fool.
"I am sorry, Miss. Mardle," he repeated, coming to stand in front of her, "But I hope these make up for it."
He brought his hand from behind his back and presented her with a bouquet of daisies.
"Oh!" she exclaimed, nervously taking the flowers and examining them as to avoid Roger's eye, "Thank you, they are lovely."
"I am glad you like them," he smiled as he watched her blush, "Shall we be off then?"
She accepted the arm he offered and they began walking. They talked as they had the day before, but after awhile the discussion dried out and they were left in silence.
They turned down every path in that park. There was no walking road they did not trod. But no new topic came to mind.
Josie felt content, being silent. But she hated not hearing Roger's voice.
"What will you do now?" she asked, breaking their thoughtful silence, "Now you've been dismissed from Samson and Grove?"
Roger shrugged, "Well, surprisingly, Mr. Samson agreed to take me on, again."
"Really?" Josie could not hide the shock in her voice.
"You make it sound as if it were a miracle!" he laughed and shook his head, "My father got to talking with him and they both agreed to put me in a new position. A sort of freelance employee organizer, as it were. Basically I would be rented out to different businesses whose management need help with the staff. I'd deal with schedules, hiring new employees, firing less than satisfactory ones, etc."
"I see," Josie thought aloud, "So if you fail to do any good at one business, Mr. Samson can point a finger at the poor situation amongst the staff of that institution instead of taking the blame for his hopeless consultant?"
Roger was aghast, "You really think that? You think I would do so poorly?"
She chuckled "Of course not! Mr. Grove, I merely suggest that your father and Mr. Samson may have found the best possible solution to their problem."
He nodded, understanding her meaning, "I suppose you are right, Miss. Mardle. I've never done my best at Samson and Grove, though I wish I could. Getting me out of the building was always their primary objective, it seems. But it is a good set up, so I will not complain."
Josie smiled. She was glad he was able to see the positive side of this otherwise unsatisfactory situation.
"And what about you, Miss Mardle?" Roger suddenly asked, " I've put you in quite a predicament if you were hoping to acquire a position by the end of the month."
Josie shook her head, "It does not matter anymore."
"No, but it does," Roger protested and took her hand, "I could tell you were desperate for a job and I would hate if my blunder caused you any sort of trouble."
Josie sighed. She did want a job. She needed a job. She was touched that Roger could see that.
"Let me help you find one," he practically begged, "I can contact some people and give them your name."
"I do not want to be a burden to you, Mr. Grove," she argued, pulling her hand away, "My situation is not as dire as you make it seem. I can wait and get another interview somewhere else."
"I am afraid I must insist, Miss Mardle," he said with determination and kindness, "It is the least I can do."
She smiled up at him, speechless from his truly generous offer. She nodded and they continued their walk. They made their way back to the bench where they met earlier.
"Might I meet with you in a week? I should have some employment options made up by then," Roger said as he stood before her, not wanting to leave quit yet.
Josie agreed, suggesting they meet at the same time and place, "You might take me to tea as well, if you wish."
"I do wish it," he took her hand again, tenderly holding it as if it were glass, "I wish it more than anything."
He left her standing in blissful awe. She could hardly breathe and smiled like a fool all the way home.
Thanks to the few contacts Roger managed to keep after his leaving Samson and Grove, he found Josie a position at a ladies' hat shop.
"It's a lovely establishment," he told her as he nibbled on a biscuit. He'd taken her to the tea room of a high end hotel in town. They occupied a small table in a secluded corner, hidden away from the prying eyes of London's elite.
"The fellow who owns it is a very decent sort of chap," Roger continued, "A bit stingy and particular, but the ladies we have sent to him have all done extremely well. Now, I've talked to the chief of staff and he's agreed to take you on for a sort of trial run. You'll be trained in the stock rooms and eventually you will work under a head saleswoman. If you prove yourself after two months, they will hire you full time. "
Josie was skeptical, "Are you sure, Mr. Grove? I can hardly pick out my own hats; how in the world am I supposed to sell them to anyone else?"
"The training there is intensive, but nothing I do not think you could handle," he encouraged.
"Do you think so?" she asked nervously.
"Of course!" Roger exclaimed, "You've proven to be quite an intelligent woman, Miss Mardle. I do not doubt that you will flourish."
Josie smiled happily, "You have no idea how good it feels to hear you say that, Roger."
He looked startled, "You mustn't call me by that name in public."
"Oh..." Josie nodded, but her heart suddenly felt weak, "Of course."
Mr. Grove leaned over and squeezed her hand, "Thank you for understanding. It means the world to me."
Josie was in a hopeless haze as Mr. Grove excused himself to attend to the bill.
Alone at their table, she thought to herself.
Nothing made sense. He'd practically insisted that she call him Roger. But now...
She could not understand it. She did not want to.
Before she knew what she was doing, she found herself donning her cap and gloves and walking out into the streets of London. Alone.
She had gone almost an entire block before she heard a voice calling her name.
"Miss Mardle! Please!" It was Mr. Grove.
She turned to see him walking towards her, confusion bubbling in his eyes.
"You left without a trace! I was beginning to worry," he looked over her face and saw she was quite distressed, "Are you ill?"
Josie took a deep breath. She was ready to tear him apart. He could not simply take a young girl out, flirt with her, give her hope, and then ripe it all away just because they were 'in public'. She wanted to tell him everything she felt - anger, grief, disappointment, rejection.
But she did not do this.
She simply stood there.
A part of her wanted to snap at him, but a greater piece of her felt compelled to be compliant. She did not know why.
She looked down and meekly folded her hands to her abdomen.
"Yes, Mr. Grove. I was beginning to feel faint and needed air," she lied, her voice becoming weaker and weaker with each word, "I apologize for leaving you so suddenly."
Mr. Grove nodded, "I hope you are feeling better. But you mustn't leave me alone like that again. Who knows what could have happened."
He gave her his arm and they began to walk. He told her about the hat shop again, the new art displays at a favorite museum, his first assignment under his new title, the prospects of the fashion industry, the developments in the care of invalid patients, etc. He was very informative and clearly enjoyed telling her about all he knew.
But she never spoke a word.
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