Chapter 2 Turquoise and Tulips

Meryl woke up with a start, her heart pounding. She grabbed her alarm clock and squinted at the time-7:30 AM. Her flight was at 12:45. Panic surged through her as she nearly flew out of bed, mumbling about what a dunce she was while rushing through her morning routine.

Her door burst open, and her brother, Steven, strolled in with an amused smirk. "Are you ready to go?" he asked casually. "Mother made coffee for you; it's in your flask. She also baked some cookies since you didn't want breakfast."

Meryl blinked at him in confusion. "What the heck is the time?"

Steven chuckled and glanced at his watch. "8:25."

"Shit, I'm going to miss that flight!" Meryl exclaimed, frantically scanning her room.

"What are you looking for?" Steven asked.

"My luggage," she replied, turning in circles.

"They're already in the car," he said, leaning against the doorway. "I put them in so we'd have one less thing to worry about."

Relief flooded through her. She exhaled heavily and raked her fingers through her thick, shoulder-length hair in an attempt to make it look somewhat presentable.

Steven, however, remained standing there, phone raised. A familiar click echoed in the room.

Meryl froze. "Are you taking pictures of me?"

Steven laughed like a hyena.

"What?" she demanded, narrowing her eyes.

"Your shirt is inside out, Miss Fashion Flipper."

Meryl looked down and groaned. Sure enough, she'd worn it the wrong way in her rush.

Steven was still laughing when their mother knocked and said, "Meryl, Alex is here to see you."

---

Alex was seated in the living room, sipping coffee from one of their old, large mugs. A half-eaten muffin rested on a saucer in front of him. Meryl paused at the doorway, watching as he absentmindedly stirred his coffee with a tiny spoon their mother, Miss Giovanni, had probably given him.

"Hi," Meryl greeted, making Alex jump slightly.

He set the spoon down and stood up, smiling. "Hey. I know you're in a rush, so I just wanted to give you this." He opened his palm to reveal a delicate turquoise bracelet carved in the shape of tulips.

Meryl was momentarily speechless. She extended her hand, allowing him to slip the bracelet onto her wrist. Then, without thinking, she grabbed him by the shoulders and kissed him deeply.

Alex pulled her close, his grip firm but gentle. When he finally broke away, he whispered into her ear, "I'll call you every day. And I'll come see you."

Meryl nodded, her throat tight.

Hand in hand, they walked to the car. Alex opened the door for her, and she slid in beside her mother. Miss Giovanni smiled at Alex and gave him a small wave as Steven finished locking up the house.

"See you later, man," Steven said, giving Alex a fist bump before getting into the driver's seat.

As they drove off, Meryl's stomach growled-whether from nerves or excitement, she wasn't sure. She fingered the smooth stone of the bracelet and thought of Alex's kiss, a small smile playing on her lips.

---

Steven pulled into the airport parking lot and hopped out to help unload the luggage. Their mother stretched and sighed. "I need some water. Do either of you want anything?"

Steven shook his head. "No, thanks."

Meryl, still feeling jittery, also declined.

They were nearly done with the luggage when an unfamiliar voice called out, "Excuse me, sir! Excuse me!"

Steven turned to see a petite woman with a sharp, no-nonsense expression striding toward him. Her black hair was cut into a sleek bob, and she wore an elegant midi dress with a cinched waist that accentuated her collarbones. The straight-cut skirt stopped just below her knees, exuding timeless sophistication. A mini Salvatore Ferragamo bag hung from her wrist, its signature gancini lock detail gleaming in the sunlight.

Her blue eyes, icy and piercing, fixed on Steven. "You're parked in a reserved spot." Her voice was calm, yet it carried an undeniable authority.

Steven frowned. "This is the economy parking lot."

The woman muttered something under her breath-something that sounded like "cac."

Meryl and Steven exchanged puzzled glances.

"Excuse me," Meryl said, stepping forward, "but we weren't informed by security that there were reserved spaces in the economy section." She deliberately emphasized economy, making her point clear.

The woman's gaze flicked to Meryl, her expression unreadable. Then, as if Meryl weren't worth her time, she simply said, "Get your car out of my spot," turned on her heel, and walked away.

Meryl stood there, stunned, her outstretched hand still in midair. Steven sighed and muttered, "I'll go repark the car. Find Mom and tell her I'll be back in ten."

Meryl nodded, still watching as the woman's red-soled Louboutins clicked sharply against the pavement.

---

Inside the terminal, Miss Giovanni was speaking with a tall, distinguished man with salt-and-pepper hair. He had a deep, rich laugh, and their conversation seemed effortlessly warm.

Meryl hesitated before tapping her mother's arm. "We need to go."

Her mother turned to her with a smile. "Meryl, meet Mr. Murphy. He was my senior in high school."

Meryl barely glanced at him. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Murphy, but we really have to go."

Mr. Murphy chuckled, reached into his pocket, and handed her mother a business card. Its navy blue and gold design was sleek, but the back surprised Meryl-painter.

"You'll call me?" Mr. Murphy asked.

Miss Giovanni nodded, and he gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze before walking away. His cologne lingered, a mix of rich tobacco and vanilla.

"Where's Steven?" Miss Giovanni asked.

"He's reparking the car," Meryl said. "Oh-there he is."

Steven approached, looking frustrated. But before Meryl could ask, her attention was caught by him.

A man.

He was speaking to a slim woman who was touching his muscular arm lightly. But it was him Meryl couldn't stop looking at.

Their eyes met.

It felt like a full minute passed before Steven's voice snapped her back to reality.

"Meryl, you're going to miss your flight."

Steven was dragging her forward, but she stole one last glance at the man. His hair was thick and tousled, as if he'd run his fingers through it too many times. His skin was fair and smooth, his jawline sharp, his high cheekbones perfectly defined. But it was his eyes-dark, intense, and slightly manic-that unsettled and intrigued her the most.

He wore a fitted navy blue polo, layered with a black sleeveless vest over baggy dress pants. His style was effortlessly expensive, exuding wealth and arrogance in equal measure.

And just before she turned away, she saw it-he had pulled out a leather-bound journal and was scribbling something.

"Mom thinks he's a celebrity," Steven laughed.

Meryl barely heard him.

Because for some reason, she had a feeling this wouldn't be the last time she saw that man.