“I thought you said you weren’t really feeling it with him?” Kira asked over our breakfast of store-bought croissants and orange juice before work. In our pajamas with our hair a mess.
I picked at my half-eaten croissant. “I know.”
“But you’re going on another date with him.”
“Yes.”
I woke up this morning with a text from Oliver asking to start fresh. He apologized for trying to kiss me — in several separate texts before asking for forgiveness with the prayer hands emoji. He told me he would make it up to me by taking me on another date. I reluctantly agreed on a trip to Coney Island tomorrow. The fourth of July. Since neither of us had anything planned for Independence Day, it worked out well for our plan to start fresh. But I wondered if I even wanted to start fresh. It wasn’t exactly a good sign my heart sank a little the moment I saw who the text was from this morning.
Was it odd I wished the text was from Roxy instead, telling me I was needed in the basement again regardless of my hand? The cut across my left palm was healing well and the bandage was downgraded to a band-aid.
“Well, in case something does miraculously blossom between you two after his bumble yesterday, I should let you know you’ll have the apartment to yourself for the long weekend. Maybe you could invite Oliver back here.” Kira smiled knowingly, wiggling her eyebrows as she bit into her croissant.
My eyes widened and I shook my head. “Uh, no. Definitely not happening. Anyway, where will you be?”
“Aiden’s friends have a place at Jones Beach, and he wanted me to go with him for the holiday weekend.” Kira’s smile was like that of a giddy schoolgirl.
Kira and I left for work around the same time, narrowly avoiding getting caught up in a conversation happening in the apartment foyer between nosey-neighbor, Susan, and some of the other middle-aged gossips who lived in the building. We went our separate ways outside. I jumped in an Uber and she caught the bus going in the opposite direction.
It was another sunny Thursday morning, one that seemed to reflect my mood too as I walked into the foyer at work.
“Good morning,” I smiled at Candice as she tapped away at her keyboard.
She kept her eyes on her screen as she drawled, “Morning.”
Okay, so maybe it wasn’t a good morning for everyone…
I pressed my lips together in a tight smile and took my seat behind the front desk.
I wasn’t sure why I felt so content today. Happy even. Maybe a break from the basement was a good thing. Or maybe I felt this way because the long weekend was just around the corner. Three days of no paperwork, work phone calls, or coffee runs down the hall to the kitchen. Three days without James and his unwanted advances. Maybe even four days if I could avoid him today.
Candice slid a book-sized parcel across the desk in my direction.
“What’s this?” I asked, picking it up.
“Read who it’s addressed to,” she said, bored, pressing the desk phone to her ear and dialing a number. She clicked and unclicked her pen impatiently.
I flipped the package over, the brown paper crumpling in my fingers, and glanced down. It was addressed to James.
My heart jumped to my throat.
Not today.
Candice snapped her fingers, and I looked back up at her as she mouthed, “Go.”
I stammered but got to my feet, fumbling to move my chair out of the way as I walked to the hallway.
Nothing is going to happen.
I looked down at what I was wearing (a button-up white top and a deep green skirt that hung to my knees). The pants I usually wore were still in the dryer at home. To think I could get away with wearing a skirt today was wishful thinking.
Just be quick. Drop the parcel off and leave. Simple.
James’s office was small. With his desk situated in the center of the room, he spotted me at the door before I had the chance to knock on the frame.
“Lily. What a pleasant surprise,” he said, leaning back in his chair with a smirk on his face. Those beady eyes trailed over me.
“Hi. I just came to drop this off.” The nervous energy running through my body left my movements jerky and awkward as I approached his desk, placing the parcel on top of a pile of unopened envelopes. I forced a smile when he nodded his thanks, turning his attention back to his computer.
