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Saturday, September 25, 2017, 9:30 am

Uri Residence

…

Amia gulped as she raised her hand to knock on the front door of the newly acquired Uri residence. She had forgotten to bring the clothing they had borrowed two weeks ago into the office to return to them. She had placed the bag right by her bedroom door but every morning she rushed out without it and every evening she kicked herself for her neglectfulness. She felt absolutely horrible for holding their clothing hostage for so long. Still, neither brother had bothered to even bring it up. This morning she was determined to return it and formally apologize for her family, namely a certain infectious teenager, destroying their living room.

She took a deep breath and attempted to knock but stopped herself once more. Was it weird to show up unannounced like this on a Saturday morning? What if they had company over? The thought of Sylas entertaining anyone to the point that they had to stay the night made her blood run cold. What if he was? They weren't actually an official couple. They had yet to discuss what they were exactly. It was more unspoken that they both acknowledged the underlying scandalousness of their actions but neither one of them was willing to change the status quo.

What if he did? What if he had grown tired of her and sought someone else out. Someone he didn't have to steal kisses from in elevators or empty hallways? Even so, what right did she have to complain? She had a 'date' with George this afternoon after all. Amia lowered her fist. This was a bad idea. Maybe she should just leave the bag on the doorstep and they'd see it when they stepped out later...

"Amia? What are you doing here?" a deep voice called from behind her.

The dark-haired woman quickly spun around and found herself face to face with a sweaty, shirtless Ira Uri. Around his neck were a pair of wireless headphones and his running shorts hung low on his waist.

"U-u-um I-I-I-" she stammered as her entire face became inflamed.

She tried to look everywhere but directly at him but she had already gotten more than a glimpse of his half-naked body. Did all Uri men have to look so perfectly sculpted? She jumped when Ira pushed aside her bangs and pressed a large hand to her forehead.

"Are you sick?" he asked and she nervously shook her head. He looked down at the bag she was clutching for dear life and smiled. "You didn't have to return that."

"N-no! I'm sorry that we intruded on your home!" she said, finally regaining her composure as they entered more neutral territory. Ira waved off her apology and swiped his card to open the penthouse door.

"There is no need to apologize. Please, come in." he said, walking past her into the house.

Amia was hesitant to enter at first but soon followed him in. She removed her shoes at the entrance and padded down the front hallway into the wrecked living room. She felt her heart sink into the pit of her stomach as she took in the handprints and streaks that coated the walls of the living room. It looked a lot worse now than it had before.

"Please let us pay whoever you are going to use to fix this!" she said as she hung her head in shame, her wild dark hair falling around her like a curtain of shame.

"No." Ira replied flatly and she looked up at him perplexed. She had to do something. It wasn't right to leave their home like this!

"I-" she started but was interrupted by a loud bodily grumbling that was only rivaled by Aviva when she was starving.

She smiled as Ira coughed awkwardly, pretending he didn't hear his stomach growl. Suddenly she got an idea that would settle her uneasy conscious and his needy stomach.

"At least let me cook for you!" she said and he raised an eyebrow at the proposition but didn't appear put off by it.

"What do you know how to make?" he said tentatively and Amia set the bag she was holding down and rolled up her sleeves.

"Everything!"

...

Saturday, September 25, 2017, 10:25am

Uri Residence

...

Sylas groaned as the morning light poured into his new bedroom. He had yet to install blinds or curtains so the light washed everything with its warmth and was uncomfortable to wake up to. He rolled over onto his stomach and sighed. He might be able to get back to sleep if he tried hard enough. His body screamed for respite after staying out all night.

Noah had insisted on bar hopping throughout Manhattan. After informing him of the merge, a switch had flipped inside of Noah and his friend went into hyperactive overdrive. He just had to show him all of the best places to get a drink and meet women. Unfortunately, Noah didn't realize that he already knew the best place. It was a little park nestled only a few blocks away from the office. There was only one woman he cared to meet there and she happened to be its bartender and sole patron.

His eyelids began to droop once more as he thought of it but a loud crash in the distance jolted him upright. Ignoring that he didn't have a shirt on, he leaped from his bed and ran down the hall. He heard a muffled voice and a door slam but there was still noise coming from the kitchen. He and Ira were supposed to be the only ones in the apartment, so how could there be noise coming from two places at once? Quickly he rounded the corner and came face to face with Amia rolling dough on a messily floured countertop. The sink was full of dirty dishes and there was flour on nearly every surface. Amia's hair was tied back in a messy ponytail and her face was slightly smudged with flour. The sight of her struggling to knead the dough was rather amusing. He leaned against the stainless steel fridge and crossed his arms over his chest as he watched her.

"What are you doing here?" He asked and she shrieked, wielding their rolling pin as a weapon in her powdery hands.

When she realized it was only him, she pressed a hand to her heart and took several deep breaths.

"Y-y-you scared me!"

"What are you doing here?" He asked again and this time she just shot her best glare which was rather weak.

"I wanted to return the clothes from last week." She explained with a huff as she returned to her task.

Sylas’ brow furrowed as he tried to recall what she meant and the image of her in his shirt popped into the forefront of his mind. He would have preferred she kept it.

"Why are you covered in flour in my kitchen?" Sylas asked as he took the last few steps into the kitchen to lean across the granite island and inspect her work. He sniffed the dough. It smelled like cinnamon.

"Because of that." She replied sheepishly and pointed towards the living room which still looked like a blue war zone. "I feel bad that we left it that way."

Sylas looked over his shoulder at the destruction behind them and shrugged. He was barely here anyway so he didn't mind all that much. Ira had apparently been able to get ahold of someone to come fix the mess but they wouldn't be in until Monday.

"So Ira has conned you into making breakfast." Sylas deduced.

Amia denied the claim but he knew the truth. His brother was a terrible cook but that never stopped him from trying. Amia must have taken pity on his efforts and decided to help which explained the flour being everywhere and the sink half full of dishes. Shaking his head, Sylas washed his hands and took the dough from Amia. He tossed more flour over the sticky dough and began kneading it against the countertop. Watching her struggle had been amusing but his stomach was starting to protest its current state of emptiness. It would only take longer if he waited for her to finish. She slid over to the other side of the island and watched him with eyes full of curiosity.

"You know how to cook?" She asked as his fingers worked through the dough. "Who taught you?"

"My girlfriend." He said in a way that was meant to be sarcastic, but Amia didn't take it that way.

Her entire face lost its color and her mood seemed to darken. As her brows knitted together, he couldn't help but wonder just what this woman was thinking. She looked as though he had just kicked her puppy and it made his heart twist uncomfortably.

"G-g-girlfriend?" She stammered. Sylas rolled his eyes and rapped her lightly on the forehead with his knuckles.

"I was being sarcastic. My mother taught ma and Ira when she found time. He just wasn't very good at it. He's too much of a perfectionist."

Amia's shoulders slumped slightly as she took in what he was saying. She looked away sheepishly as though she had more to say but was afraid to put a voice to her thoughts. When the dough was firm enough, he took the rolling pin and flattened it against the countertop.

"U-um..." she started to say shyly and he raised his eyebrows to show that he was listening as he continued his task. "How...how many girlfriends have you had?"

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

"None." He said flatly and she gave him a skeptical look.

"Not one?"

"I have never felt the need to tie myself to others. Most women annoy me." He replied.

"Do I annoy you?" She asked, her voice small and unsure. He looked up from the dough and studied her face.

Out of all the women he had engaged with, she was the least annoying by far. In fact, if he were being honest, he enjoyed her company the most. He hated talking about himself but she made him feel comfortable enough to express things about himself that only his family knew and some things they didn't. It was strange that this Hato woman held that sort of power. He wasn't quite sure how to express how he felt in words. He was standing at the beginning of something and didn't know how to proceed. She blushed under his silent gaze and cast her eyes down but a small smile played at her lips.

They worked together in a comfortable silence that they had quickly grown accustomed to from their weeks at the office. When the dough was flat enough, she grabbed a bowl from the opposite counter and began to spread a thick, gooey brown mixture all over the flattened dough. When it was covered entirely she rolled it up tightly into a log and cut it to form circular segments. Sylas removed a sheet pan from beneath the island and greased it before placing the segments onto the sheet. Once they were on the pan, Amia popped it into the oven and set the timer.

"You do realize that he tricked you right?" Sylas said as he washed his hands in the sink.

"W-what?" She asked as she turned on the stove to heat a small saucepan to melt a powdered sugar and butter concoction.

She squeaked and tensed when he came up behind her and placed his hands on her hips but soon relaxed into his touch. He glared over her shoulder at the poison on the stove.

"Ira is partial to sweets, especially cinnamon rolls." He answered and Amia smiled.

"That's good. I am too."

She stirred the sugary mess with a wooden spoon as it melted together. Once satisfied with the consistency, she removed the spoon and blew on it once before she held it up to him. Sylas scrunched up his nose and pushed the offering away.

"I don't like sweets." He said and Amia pouted slightly.

She ran her index finger over the back of the spoon. He felt his heart speed up as she raised the digit up to her mouth and it disappeared between her plump lips. It was such an innocent move but he was curious to see what other nonsugary things she would be willing to put there. His blood pumped furiously at the prospect.

"It's good!" She said happily once she had sucked her finger clean.

Sylas reached past her to coat two of his fingers with the white sugary substance as well. The warm icing dripped down his fingers as he pressed them against her bottom lip. She hesitated at first but soon opened her mouth to accept the digits. Her tongue swirled around his fingers, sending a sinful chill down his spine. He wondered what it would feel like to have that tongue on another part of his body.

His free hand slid up her shirt and fondled her breast under her bra as he pressed his erection against her backside. He relished in the way she hummed around his fingers when he rolled her nipple between his index finger and thumb. If she wasn't careful, he would take her right here in the kitchen and the cinnamon rolls would surely burn. Now that he thought about it, that wouldn't be such a terrible loss. He removed his fingers from her mouth and tilted her head upwards so that he could lean down to kiss her.

"Amia I'm back!" Ira called from the front door.

Sylas and Amia immediately broke apart and the youngest Uri had to thank whatever god above that the kitchen wasn't visible from the front door. He looked down at his clearly evident erection and decided it would be best not to greet his brother like this in the morning. As he made his way down the hall, he heard Ira going on and on about how the first two shops he had been to were fresh out of eggs.

…..

Saturday, September 25, 2017, 2:30pm

DayBreak Coffee

...

Amia sighed as she entered the café, the bell ringing above her. She hated leaving the Uri brothers to deal with the dishes but breakfast had taken much longer than anticipated and going over the paperwork that Ira had brought home had taken even longer. Even though she was tempted to stay longer, she would have been late meeting George.

She glanced around the room and immediately spotted George's unique crop of red hair. A steaming cup of coffee was sitting untouched before him as he scrolled through something on his tablet. Amia straightened her back, gathered her confidence, and approached where he was sitting. He looked up when she sat in the empty chair across from him and placed his tablet on the table.

"I didn't see you come in." He said and Amia shook her head.

"It's alright."

George nodded and began digging into the bag at his feet. He pulled out a long flat box and placed it on the table in front of her. She bit the inside of her cheek and tried to keep a straight face. She hadn't actually agreed to meet him to accept his gift. She came because she felt guilty. Guilty for leading him on. Guilty for finding pleasure with another man when he had set up a date that was meant for just the two of them. Guilty because she didn't regret it and knew that it would happen again.

George noticed her hesitance and opened the lid of the box. Compartmentalized inside were brightly colored little tins with their contents carefully labeled and organized according to strain and strength. The part of her that had studied tea ceremony for years at the behest of her elders certainly appreciated the spread before her. She picked up a bright blue tin labeled 'Black Tea' and ran her finger over the cold metal lid. She had been wanting to try this signature blend for a while but receiving this gift from George just didn't feel right. Her stomach tied itself in knots as she felt George's calculating gaze on her face. She placed the tin back into its compartment and closed the box. She gently pushed it to the center of the table and placed her hands in her lap.

"You are displeased." He said flatly, not touching the gift she had returned.

"I... I'm sorry but I can't accept this." Amia said softly as she stared at her intertwined fingers.

"Is there something wrong with it?" He asked and she shook her head.

"No, it's beautiful. "

"Do you not like this kind of tea?"

"No, I actually do like it."

"I am unfamiliar with the ways of courting someone Amia. You will have to be clearer about what dissatisfies you."

Amia bit her bottom lip and looked up at the man across the table. He looked genuine in his statement that he was actively seeking to court her. Any girl would be lucky to have him knocking on their door.

"I did not mean to offend you." She said softly. "I do not believe that I will be able to reciprocate your...um...feelings."

George tilted his head to the side slightly and looked at her curiously. A slight smirk played on his lips.

"I never asked you to."

"W-what?"

"I am not seeking to court you because I think you already like me. Especially not after one date." He explained and pushed the box back closer to her end of the table. "I find you interesting and would hope that through my pursual, you will find the same about me."

"George-" she started but he was already standing with his phone ringing in one hand and his bag in the other.

"I believe that I have already informed you that I am unable to take 'no' for an answer." He said calmly with a soft smile. "Enjoy the tea."

…...

Sunday, September 26, 2017, 3:45pm

Hato Enterprise

...

Sylas let out a deep breath as he ran his fingers through his dark hair which had become somewhat unruly from the repeated practice. All of the requisitions that had needed to be looked over and approved were stacked to his right and updates on negotiations were to his left. He had flipped through everything twice, some even three times, and was done with them all. He knew each upcoming deal like the back of his hand and could read the stock outcomes from the previous week off the top of his head. He had even reviewed longstanding agreements between the Uri and other corporations just for kicks.

He had completed every task he could possibly do and now he was done. What should fill him with a sense of accomplishment only left him feeling empty. For the first time since arriving in New York, Sylas was bored. Sure Monday would bring its own laundry list of things to do but right now he had nothing. Leaning back in his chair, he closed his eyes and tried to clear his mind but it didn't work. Percentages, quarterly earnings, and stocks all danced across his eyelids and in his ears buzzed the complaints of employees. He opened his eyes and glared at the ceiling. He couldn't even be bored in peace.

With a defeated huff, he got up from his desk and made a beeline for the door. Maybe a walk would help to clear his mind. Perhaps by the end of stretching his legs, he would find one more thing he could do: a superfluous report he could write up or an email he had neglected to respond to. Once he reached the outside world, he immediately regretted the decision. Since it was a Sunday, the sidewalks were crowded with families and couples, all of whom had no problem being as loud as they could be. There was not a cloud in the sky and the temperature was relatively mild for a September afternoon so it was no small wonder that the streets were packed. With his hands shoved in his pockets, he watched the people mill around him as he walked through the city. A few people recognized him, but he could blend in seamlessly with the rest of the nameless masses.

After a few blocks, he noticed an empty flower shop with its doors flung open and its flowers pouring out onto the sidewalk. In fact, there was no front wall to the shop at all. The panels that made up the storefront had been pushed to each side to allow the maximum amount of sun into the shop. He watched as a little girl, no older than six, bounded up to the giant vat of sunflowers and tried to reach up to touch the vibrant yellow petals. The metal vat that held them was much too heavy and the flowers too tall for her to ever reach them but her mother scooped her right up before she could knock the display over.

Sylas was never a fan of temporary things like flowers but women seemed to like them. At least it appeared as though Amia did. She had taken annoyingly good care of the bouquet George had sent her, only throwing it out when the blooms were well past their prime. Since she enjoyed gardening, she had made the roses last a lot longer than they should have. Sara had lamented that the office was now a bit darker without their presence but Sylas could only think it was good riddance. Those roses had overstayed their welcome the minute they had crossed the threshold. He stepped closer to the sunflowers and examined how they tilted towards their namesake. He had never bought flowers for anyone before. What was so special about these ephemeral things anyway? Did Amia like sunflowers?

"Well hello, Prince Charming..." A bright feminine voice said absently and when he looked up the owner's blue eyes widened and they quickly covered their mouth. "Shit, did I say that out loud?"

Sylas ignored her slip-up and continued scrutinizing the sunflowers. Beside him, he heard the shuffle of footsteps and glanced down to see the blue-eyed woman from before standing much too closely and looking up at him intently. He leaned away from her but it only made her step closer. Her eyes held a mischievous gleam to them so similar to Noah's that it was scary. It didn't help that she was a blonde either.

"You're thinking about a woman aren't you?" She said and when he didn't answer, her smile only grew wider. "I knew it. I can always tell these things."

Sylas looked away from her and picked up one of the long-stemmed flowers, noting with surprise that the stem felt thicker than he had expected and a little fuzzy.

"I can tell that you are new to this so I will help you out." The blonde woman said as she took the sunflower away from him and placed it back into the vat with the others. She grabbed his wrist and dragged him into the center of the shop.

"My name is Iris by the way and this is my family's flower shop! You are lucky that I am here today because I know everything there is to know about flowers and love! The two go hand in hand ya know!"

Sylas was tempted to bolt but something about the woman's confidence made him stay to see what she had to say. She sure looked like she knew what she was talking about. Iris led him over to the left side of the shop where there were columns of frosted glass fridges filled with partially bloomed roses in all sizes and colors. It was overwhelming to take in since he had only thought that roses existed in one variety, red. Iris patted his arm as though she could read his thoughts.

"Don't worry. I got you." She said as she opened one of the fridges to the red roses. "Red roses mean a passionate, undying love. These by far are the most romantic and are a classic! Sure to win any girl's heart!"

Sylas narrowed his eyes at the red blooms. They looked too similar to the ones that George had gotten. Iris noticed his evident distaste for the red and promptly shut the fridge door. She moved over to the second one which was filled with white roses. He shook his head. He had only ever seen those at weddings and they looked a bit too...cheesy. Iris pouted at the second rejection but was undeterred. She opened the third fridge which was full of bright pink roses.

"Pink roses are all about happiness. They say that you enjoy the other person's company. The girl in your mind will surely find you romantic from these!" She said with a grin that quickly diminished when Sylas shook his head.

The pink roses reminded him too much of Sara. Iris went through three more colors before they had viewed all of the varieties that the shop had to offer. Sylas shoved his hands in his pockets. Why was he here again? Iris tapped a finger to her chin, lips pursed in a tight line, and thought for a moment before a light went off in her head.

"What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as a sweet..." she muttered under her breath and Sylas felt his eye twitch at the sappiness. "What is the name of the woman you are looking to buy these for?"

Sylas paused. Was he really trying to buy roses for Amia? They weren't even dating, although they did everything he imagined couples did. Would she think it weird if he bought her roses? It felt awkward to him. He wasn't trying to claim his undying love for her. He knew that he certainly wasn't in love with her but he enjoyed her company and found her to be rather intriguing. There was no one else who had managed to capture his attention the way that she had. When she spoke, he felt himself stopping everything just to listen to the soft-spoken words that dripped from her lips. Iris coughed and brought his attention back to the present. She raised her eyebrows expectantly and he shrugged his shoulders.

"Amia." He said simply and Iris's face lit up.

"I have a friend named Amia!" She said excitedly. "She loves lavender Dalilas! I'm sure your Amia would like them too! Oh, but we don't have any in stock right now..."

Iris's shoulders slumped as she realized that she had hit the end of the road when it came to suggestions for him. He was clearly a rather tricky customer to assist. He gave her a stiff nod and turned to walk out of the store. As he crossed the threshold, he noticed a display of pink camellias tilted towards the sun, their small layered petals outstretched wide to capture as much of its rays as possible. On the small card taped to the display there were only two words. Beloved and Affection.

'Amia.' He thought. 'Beloved.'

He would have never expected a man as staunch as Arlo to have given his daughter such a delicate name. It had to have been her mother…

Before he second-guessed himself, he grabbed as many of the pale pink flowers as he could in one hand and brought them back into the store. Iris immediately perked up when she saw him and eagerly took the large bundle off his hands to place on the counter. She quickly cut the long stems down to size and then interspersed the camellias with baby's breath. Finally, Iris tied them together with a bright lavender ribbon. She said it was to make up for the fact that she could not give his Amia lavender Dalilas. Once she wrapped the bouquet in brown paper, he handed her the cash for the flowers.

"It's such a shame you know." Iris sighed as she handed him his change. "All of the super hot guys are already taken."

Sylas smirked at the comment and took the bouquet back. As he walked back towards the front of the shop, he actually felt much lighter than he had before. Suddenly he recalled a few Monday morning meetings he needed to do more research on and decided to head back to the office. Iris followed him out to the sidewalk and enthusiastically waved goodbye.

"If you have any single hot friends send them my way!"