A Valentine’s Surprise
Part II

Though Catherine wanted to flee, she was frozen, knowing her tormentors would see her. But their laughter faded—they’d gone the other way. Her head was spinning. How had she misread it so badly? She considered calling Harriet but stopped herself. No, she’d say nothing. She’d get her revenge.

Somehow, she made it home, but the journey was a blur. She collapsed onto the sofa and sat there all night, thinking, planning, plotting. Sleep never came, but by morning, she had an idea.

A call to Peter before work set everything in motion—if he wanted to protect his career, he’d do as she said.

At Acme Typing Service, Harriet paused at Catherine’s desk, concerned.


“You disappeared last night. You weren’t on the subway. What happened?”


Catherine smiled. “So sorry, I had plans to make. I should have said so.”

Juliette arrived last, maintaining her usual secretive air she set to work.
The girls chatted about their Valentine’s celebrations until Catherine cut in.
“How about you, Juliette? Hope you spent the evening with someone special.”

Juliette’s fingers hesitated over her keyboard. Catherine never spoke to her. Why now?


“Just a quiet night at home,” she lied, without looking up. She couldn’t know. Could she?

 Her typewriter fought her all morning—typos, a broken ribbon. And Catherine kept watching her. By lunch, the anxiety was unbearable. She needed to see Peter. He’d reassure her. 

A quick subway ride to Queen’s Park—
“He’s not in today,” his secretary said. “He didn’t call, didn’t show. Not like him at all.”

Juliette’s heart pounded. She walked back to the office, stopping to telephone Peter at  home from a phone booth. No answer. Further along, another booth. Still no answer. 

Back at the Acme, the familiar clatter of typewriters should have been comforting. Instead, dread settled in. Where was Peter? Was Catherine behind this? 

Juliette fretted all afternoon when suddenly the door opened. 

Peter strolled in, dressed impeccably, a bouquet in hand. Catherine was already beside him, an arm around his waist.


“Girls,” she announced, “meet my dear Peter.”

The girls gasped. Juliette stood frozen. She was relieved to see him, but wondered what was happening.

Peter avoided Juliette’s gaze. Then, dropping to one knee, he asked, “Catherine, will you marry me?”

Catherine let the moment hang in silence before flashing a mischievous smile.


“I wouldn’t marry you if you were the last man on earth.”

Peter’s face fell. The girls held their collective breath.


“You… you don’t want to marry me?” he stammered.

“Oh, darling, not in a million years.” She tossed her hair back dramatically. 

Juliette’s heart thudded. Peter, confused and humiliated, stood awkwardly.


“Isn’t this… what you wanted?”

Catherine winked. “Sorry, darling, but I prefer a man with a spine.” 

Peter stared, stunned. Then, without a word, he dropped the flowers, turned and walked out.

Catherine watched him leave as she picked up the bouquet with a  satisfied sigh.

She turned to Juliette, and with the sweetest tone asked, “Ready to get back to work? Or do you need a moment?”

Juliette shook her head. “You knew?”

Catherine grinned. “Indeed.”

Juliette chuckled. “You put him up to that?”

Catherine smirked. “Indeed.”

The office girls began to buzz again, gossiping and speculating, but Juliette couldn’t bring herself to care. Catherine was right. A man without a spine wasn't worth it.

She watched as Catherine casually arranged the flowers Peter had left behind. The sheer nerve—it was impressive.

Juliette leaned back in her chair, a small smile formed on her lips in spite of herself. She was the victim, but she could appreciate the game Catherine had played. She couldn’t help but feel a little admiration for her cunning, even if it was at her own expense.