When I handed her the final contract, she nodded her head and grabbed a pen to sign it. “Everything looks really good, Miss Gracen. These dates work well for me.”
“Great. I’m really looking forward to designing your new living room, Mrs. Klein.” I shook her hand and stood up.
“Thank you.” She smiled. “I’m sure it’ll be just as fabulous as all your other work.”
“I guarantee it.” I led her out of my office and back inside the storefront, pulling all the drapes closed once she walked outside.
I’ll finally get to make it home on time today...
I started straightening the pillow display that was over by the bay window, making sure all the tags were tightly tucked underneath. I was tempted to lay across them and relax, but my phone rang. Jonathan.
“Hello?”
“Hello, Claire.” His deep voice still had the power to make me melt. “What are you doing right now?”
“I’m...I’m closing the store. You?”
“I’m driving. Are you tired?”
“Why?”
“Answer the question.”
“Yes.” I rolled my eyes. “I’m too tired to have sex with you right now.”
He laughed. “Would you like me to reschedule our meeting with the wedding planner then?”
“No!” I’d been looking forward to that meeting for weeks. “Not at all.”
“Good. I’m on my way to pick you up. I’ll be there in five minutes.”
“See you soon.” I hung up and started swiping a mini-duster over all the candle shelves.
I was halfway done when I heard the bell over the door ring.
“I’ll be right there.” I sighed and didn’t bother turning around. “Let me finish this last shelf and—”
“Claire?”
My blood boiled at the very sound of that voice.
I shook my head, knowing that I couldn’t be standing in my store. I had to be at home and asleep in my bed. I had to be dreaming. I had to be having a nightmare.
“Claire?” He asked again, and I pinched myself before slowly turning around.
I wasn’t at home. I wasn’t dreaming.
It was Ryan.
“What are you doing here?” I hissed.
“I almost didn’t recognize you when I walked in. You look good, really good...” He looked me up and down. “Life must be treating you well.”
“What. Are. You. Doing. Here?” I narrowed my eyes at him.
“Look. I know I’m the last person you want to see right now, but since I’m in town, I thought I would—”
“Invite me out to dinner? Catch up on life? I don’t have shit to say to you.”
“I beg to differ. We need to talk.”
“No thanks. Not interested.”
“It’s important.” He sighed.
“No. It’s not.”
“Claire, it’s been five years now. We can at least be cordial to one another.”
“Cordial? How cordial do you think I should be to the lying sack of shit who got my ex-best friend pregnant?” I shook my head. “Actually, don’t even answer that. I’ve already used up my ‘pointless conversation’ minutes for the day. Please get the f**k out of my store.”
“You’re going to listen to me, Claire.” He took a step forward and looked directly into my eyes. “Whether you like it or not, you’re going to stand there and listen to every f**king word that I have to say.”
I crossed my arms. “If I were you, I would leave right now. My fiancée will be here any minute and he won’t be as nice as I’m being to you.”
His face suddenly fell—or at least it looked like it did. “You’re...You’re engaged now? To who?”
“Please leave, Ryan.” I felt an ache in my chest—a painful, burning ache. “I don’t want you here. Ever.”
He stared at me—shaking his head as he slowly backed away.
Before he opened the door, he looked over his shoulder. “I’m only leaving right now because you’re closing and I have somewhere to be. I was just stopping by to make sure it was true that you worked here. Trust me, I’ll be back. And you and I are going to talk.”
It took every ounce of strength in my body not to run over and stab him with the sharp edge of my dust wand, but I just stood there. Paralyzed. Livid.
As soon as he was gone, I gained mobility again and threw my dust-wand to the floor. I headed behind the counter, pressing the button that made the glass panel drop down and block anyone from coming any further; I didn’t want to take any chances on him returning minutes later.
I locked myself in the bathroom and ran cold water in the sink, splashing my face over and over again. As hard as I tried to fight it, my most vivid and bitter memory of our failed marriage began to play in my mind...
I took another sip of disgusting wine and looked at the incriminating photos Barry had handed me.
“I asked Amanda where she was on last Friday.” Barry lit a cigar and shook his head. “She told me she was with you—out shopping for a new dress.” He picked up one of the photos and ran his fingers along the timestamp. “Maybe she meant she was wearing a dress while she was f**king Ryan in his office...”