Wide-eyed, I glance up at him. “You think so?”
His smile is playful. “Yeah.”
“So you liked Louise, did you?”
With a puzzled look he asks, “Who the hell is Louise?”
“Sasquatch’s neighbor.”
At first he mouths, What the fuck. Next, laughter reverberates off the walls. Finally he says, “Louise is one in a million, Cate.”
“Well, Louise wants me to tell you she is ecstatic she finally got to meet you.”
I WANT YOU TO LEAVE THIS room now and go home, but I don’t want you to come back after you shower. I want you to say your goodbyes to me right here, right now.
A fine sheen of cool sweat covers my entire body when I’m jarred awake by the impact of the dream. The echoes of his voice make it more real than anything else. The wetness on my ears alerts me that I’ve been crying too. I sit up and fight the urge to hide under the covers from my past. I know why I’m starting to dream that moment. I only wonder why it’s taken several days for it to show up.
Later as I press my head to the chilled tiles in the shower, the memories still linger. I let the remnants of the tears spill as I try to wash away my sins. It isn’t until I get to work that the memories are finally shoved back into their proper place, deep in a recessed closet in the back of my mind.
It’s early and I watch in fascination when Mandy skulks in with large sunglasses on and her head hanging low as if she’s hiding from the paparazzi. I push away my keyboard as she comes into my office, leaving the door open behind her.
“What am I going to do?” she asks as she drops into a chair and covers her face with her hands. I can’t help the laugh that escapes me. “This is so not funny.”
“It totally is,” I say much to her annoyance.
She glances up from where she hangs her head on the edge of the desk. She removes her sunglasses and stares straight at me. “I don’t remember a thing.”
I arch a brow. “And?”
“And, he remembers everything. I had to fake an appointment to get him out. He wanted breakfast. Can you believe it?”
My laughter relieves some of the pressure I’ve been feeling all morning. “Admit you like him.”
Everything on her face widens. Her mouth and her eyes take on a ghostly impression as they mimic saucers. “I so do not.”
“You do,” I say chuckling. “You so have it bad.”
“I don’t do relationships,” she says with a vehemence I almost believe.
“Morning.” I glance up to see Daniel framing my doorway. He aims his next comment to Mandy’s back. “Morning, beautiful.”
I’m not sure how she does it, but Mandy’s eyes grow ever larger in a cartoonish way. I just stare not wanting to give anything away. Slowly, she turns and I can see a hint of the smile she gives him.
“Morning, Daniel. We should—”
He cuts her off and pulls a hand full of daisies from behind his back.
“Daniel,” she chokes out, obviously surprised and touched by his gesture.
Instead of looking at her, he moves aside as the office manager strides in carrying a vase full of long-stemmed pink roses. She heads directly toward me and places them on the only corner of my desk that is clutter free.
“These are for you. You must have an admirer,” she says before she strides out as breezily as she came in. She gives a quick nod of good morning to the two other people in my office on her way out. Daniel glances down and I feel bad that my flowers have taken the wind out of his sails.
“Daniel, they’re beautiful,” Mandy says getting to her feet. She takes the small bouquet of flowers from his hands. “I’m going to find something to put them in.”
Then she is gone. Daniel gives me a half smile before exiting. I’m left to pull the small white card from my own bouquet. Inside it reads…
To Cate,
The most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.
I’m sorry our evening didn’t go as planned. I look
forward to our plus one date.
A
The note is hand written and not typed. I recognize his attempt at a non-doctor scrawl. His scribble is actually really nice. I send him a quick text thanking him for the flowers before I dig into work.
Late that afternoon, I’m pulled into a meeting. I stop short when a man standing at the head of the conference table turns. He could have been on the cover of any magazine.
“Cate,” my boss says changing my focus. “This is Ted Caine.”
I face the man again, who wouldn’t win any awards for height. He moves to stand in front of me. He’s about my height in the flats I’m wearing.
He extends his hand and I give it a quick but firm shake. I can’t help but notice how soft his skin is. His suit screams money so I’m not surprised his hands are as smooth as a baby’s butt.