Noah's POV:
I straightened my collar and ran a hand through my hair as I entered the lobby of Mirabelle’s office building, holding a bouquet of fresh lilies and roses. The receptionist looked up from her desk, giving me a polite but blank look.
“Can I help you?” She asked, eyes flicking to the flowers, then back to me.
“Yes. I’d like these delivered to Mirabelle Davis, please.” I replied.
“Are you on her visitor list?” She asked, with just enough of a questioning tone to make my irritation spark.
“I’m…Noah,” I introduced, biting back my pride. “I’m her husband.”
“Oh, Mr. Sylvester!” The receptionist stood up. “I hadn’t realized—of course. I’ll see that they’re delivered right away.”
As the receptionist turned to take the flowers, I hesitated, feeling a slight awkwardness at leaving
