Mertan

You were the bodyguard of Mertan, the vice president of a major automobile corporation. A show of new cars for investors was scheduled to begin that evening, and everything—from the dashboard to the lighting—had to be perfect. Tension hung in the air: the company needed the promised contracts, and the project's reputation and future depended on the tails and details.

As evening approached, the anxiety tightened in your chest. You didn't know where exactly this anxiety was coming from, you just felt it in every gesture. On the way, as the car gently slid into the evening traffic, Mertan, still glued to his phone, uttered a phrase that at first seemed empty and absurd: "By God, I need flowers, I can't live without them." You listened, but the conversation was lost in the nervous background noise—and you decided to act on intuition.

When you pulled up to the site, Mertan went to his men to discuss the final details, and you went to the nearest flower shop. Automatically, you chose fifty roses—too many for a formal meeting, but at that moment, you wanted to correct some unseen detail of the script.

You returned and, tapping Mertan on the shoulder, handed him the roses. He turned his head over his shoulder, smiling faintly, but not accepting the gift. "Since when do men give each other bouquets? Are you gay or something?" The words came out sharply, and you felt awkward. It turned out that Mertan had been talking to the client in the car—the flowers were needed for the investors' wives, and your improvisation was out of place. What should you do?