Damn it, why did I panic around her? Why couldn’t I manage a simple conversation? I’d been battling obsessive thoughts for the majority of my life, and Ken was right—I had plenty of strategies in place for dealing with them. So what the fuck was it?
Was it her looks? Was it because I felt guilty for the way I used to think about her? The way I still thought about her? Or was yesterday just a bad day? It was almost like I’d had too many good days, and the asshole in me needed to speak up and remind me I wasn’t OK. I’d never be OK. No matter how many good days there would be in my life, I’d always have to battle the fucked up circuitry in my brain.
I wondered what she was thinking. Would she even talk to me again if I approached her? Once something was on my list, I couldn’t give up on it—and if I didn’t work through my issue with her, it would continue to haunt me. This wasn’t a huge town, so I was bound to run into her from time to time, and I couldn’t run away whenever that happened. Ken was right about that too—avoidance never works, not for me.
I might be an asshole, but I wasn’t a goddamn coward. Not anymore.
Next time I saw her, I’d do better.
I started working for Natalie the next day, and by three o’clock, my feet were killing me, my lower back ached, and I was exhausted. My sisters were both early risers, as were my mom and dad, but waking before six AM felt like medieval torture to me, and the weather wasn’t helping. It had been cloudy and gray all day, and the rain had just started to fall. Nap weather.
“Is it over?” I asked, when the final lunch customers had left, opening their umbrellas before heading out. “If it isn’t, I think I have to quit.”
“It’s over.” Natalie grinned at me over her shoulder as she piled dishes from their table on a tray. “We can close up.”
“Thank God.” Wincing with every step on my sore feet, I went to the door to lock it and flip the sign to CLOSED. Then I collapsed on the nearest stool, flopping forward over the counter. “I’ll help you in a second. I need a rest.”
“Don’t close your eyes,” she warned. “You’ll fall asleep, I know you.”
I did have a knack for falling asleep pretty much anywhere when I was tired. My eyes were already drifting shut as I settled my cheek on one arm. “Shush. Just need a minute.”
“I’m taking these dishes to the kitchen, and once they’re loaded in the dishwasher, your rest is over.”
“Mmkay.” Drowsy and warm and lulled by the sound of the rain, I’d just started to doze off when a few sharp raps on the glass jarred me awake. “Go ‘way. Closed,” I mumbled without picking up my head.
The knocking continued, growing even louder. What the hell, could this person not read?
“OK, OK.” Reluctantly, I slid off the stool and turned to see a drenched Sebastian Pryce through the glass, rain coming down in sheets behind him.
My stomach jumped, and I rushed over to the door, fumbling with the lock before pushing it open. “Come on in,” I said, a little breathless. All I could think of were his words about me. I could still see them on the page…
I have no choice but to
keep my distance
“My God, you’re soaked.” I looked him up and down, taking in the dark jeans and the light brown jacket, although it was dripping wet, as was his hair. “Can I get you a towel or something?”
“No, that’s OK.”
“How about a cup of coffee then?” I glanced behind me to make sure we still had some in the pot.
“No, thanks. I didn’t come for coffee. I was just running an errand downtown and saw you through the window. I didn’t realize you worked here.”
I smiled. So talkative today—almost friendly. “It’s my first day.” Lowering my voice to a whisper, I leaned toward him and spoke behind one hand. “But you just caught me napping on the job.”
He smiled at me, a slow, sly grin that made my knees go weak. “I won’t tell.”
“Thanks.” I waited for him to tell me why he was there but he said nothing for a moment, his eyes running over my hair and face, lingering on my mouth.
but your beauty is gravity
I licked my lips. “Are you sure I can’t get you anything to drink? The kitchen just closed, or I’d offer you something to eat.”
“I’m sure. I’m not hungry. I just came in to talk to you.”
and terrestrial bodies will always fall
“You did?” I rocked forward onto the balls of my feet.
“Yes. I owe you an apology.”
A blush warmed my cheeks. “It’s OK.”
“No, it isn’t. I shouldn’t have rushed off yesterday. I feel bad about it.”
“Well, I shouldn’t have come in here screaming like a banshee either.”
He shrugged. “It’s all right.”
God, he was so damn cute, all wet and sheepish. “Sure I can’t get you some coffee? I hate to send you back out into the rain so fast. I’ll sit with you.” Come on, let’s get you out of those wet clothes.
His lips tipped up again, and my heart ka-banged like a sixth grader’s with her first crush. I loved how one of his eyebrows sort of cocked up higher than the other when he smiled. “No, thank you. I should go.” He turned and pushed the door open, then looked back over his shoulder. “But it’s good to see you again.”
When he was gone, I stood there staring out the window at the rain for a solid five minutes, suddenly wide awake and more curious about him than ever.
• • •
Coffee Darling was only open until mid-afternoon, so I had plenty of time left over in the following weeks to help my mother finish the guest houses. I’d get up at five, work at the shop until the lunch crowd left, and then head back home to paint, put up window treatments and light fixtures, and make up beds with beautiful linens in soft, neutral colors. On my days off, I’d go hunting at antique shops for old chairs I could recover, tables my dad could help me refinish, or just pretty things that would look nice hanging on the walls or sitting on a shelf.
In the evenings, I helped my mother tweak their website, which was dated and busy. I also convinced her to hire a photographer to take some professional photos of the houses and grounds, and found a graphic designer to work on a new logo.
I can’t say I was any closer to figuring what to do with my life, but I felt good about helping out my family, and staying busy made it easy to put off worrying about the future. My most immediate concern was that damn reunion—could I show my humiliated face? My final episode of Save a Horse had aired, (no, I did not watch) but I still felt the disgusted stares and heard the angry whispers of locals here and there. Perhaps if I hadn’t thrown that cosmo in fan favorite Whiney Whitney’s face, I’d have come off a bit more sympathetic, but I just couldn’t take one more of her tearful meltdowns. Besides, I let her push me in the ranch’s pool in an evening gown and stilettos. Ratings for that episode were sky high!
If only I had someone to go to the reunion with. But my two closest girlfriends from school lived out of town and weren’t attending, and Natalie said showing up with her as my date would be worse than going alone. If Sebastian had come into the shop again, I would’ve asked him about it, but he never did. I asked Natalie about him once, and she said he was kind of like that—he might come in every day for a week and then not at all for two. Then she teased me about the crestfallen look on my face so much that I didn’t ask again.
I was starting to think I’d imagined his poetic words about me when I ran into him at the hardware store one night in late May.
I was in aisle four looking for screws for these cool cast iron bin pulls I’d just bought at an old barn-turned-antiques store, and I was having trouble finding the right size. Frowning again at the vast selection in front of me, I was thinking of asking for help when I heard a voice behind me.