Sierra's smile fell as the air turned awkward.
"Y-You must be mistaken. I'm his soon-to-be fiancee, Sierra Leone." She said, voice strained through gritted teeth.
A model added, looking at the delivery workers in disdain, "You incompetent fool. How could you mix up the names? You had one job and still couldn't do it right. We'll be sure to leave a bad review."
The delivery workers shared offended looks.
"Fiancee?" The woman blinked. "Mr. Saintclaire never mentioned having a fiancee nor did he mention knowing a Sierra Leone. We don't make mistakes like that. He even left a note — 'Have a nice day at work, Miss Doe Eyes.'"
The model who spoke up glanced at Sierra nervously. Except Mr. Saintclaire was blind, he would never call Sierra's sharp cat-like eyes doe-eyes. It was impossible.
This rendered everyone confused. So if the roses weren't for Sierra, who were they for?
