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Chapter 11

“Paul Reynolds?” he said, thrusting the clipboard at Paul.

He signed the form, thanked the delivery man, and carried the flowers into the kitchen. He was beaming. No one had ever sent him flowers before. Tucked into the bouquet was a small red envelope and inside, a card.

Sorry. I snore.

Calvin.

Paul went straight to the telephone and called him. “Thank you for the wonderful flowers.”

“I realised when I woke up and found you gone, and then your lovely note, that my snoring had probably been the culprit.”

“I’m sorry about that. I didn’t want to wake you. I’m not used to it, that’s all.”

“I have these strips I can use, but they aren’t very attractive.” He laughed. “Next time, if you’re brave enough to stay over again, I’ll put one on and that should make things easier.”

It was on the tip of Paul’s tongue to mention the previous night’s strange occurrence, but it didn’t seem the right time. Hell, when was there a right time to bring up something like that?