“Let’s start with your favorite color. It should be the color of your wedding.”
I grin, thinking of the one color that Darcy would loathe having as his wedding color. “Yellow. Bright, sunshiny yellow.”
How am I going to pack this place up by myself in two days? I shouldn’t have procrastinated this inevitable task over the past week. It’s Wednesday, the one day a week I actually get out of the office on time due to Darcy’s out-of-town travels, and I have to have my things ready to go by Friday evening before the rehearsal.
Dirty dishes still sit in the sink, the trash overflows, and nothing is in its assigned spot. In lieu of actually cleaning the apartment, I hunt for boxes to pack my things in. Luckily, I don’t throw out boxes from my online shopping and have plenty of cardboardto stuff kitchen appliances, clothes, and bathroom necessities in. Though, come to think of it, will I need kitchen appliances? Darcy’s place is massive. He is bound to have everything I could possibly need. Also, he has a kitchen staff who does the cooking for him.
Heck. Yeah.
That reason alone is enough to move in with him. I hardly cooked for myself anyway, but now I will have access to full yummy meals I don’t have to prepare. Part of me cringes at the excitement I experience knowing I will have a kitchen staff prepare meals for me, but then again, it’s natural to be happy over such a thing when you have been on your own for so long. I’m definitely not one of those women who will hold onto her pride when it comes to food. Other things, sure. Food? No way.
My phone rings with the special ringtone set just for Darcy: “Love Yourself” by Justin Bieber.
“Yes, Mr. Marshall?”
He takes a breath. “I just spoke with Deborah, your landlady. She says you are being evicted.”
The phone slips from my hand and my heart rate picks up. My first thought is that I could sue Deborah for giving out my personal information to him, but then again, what good will that do?
My second thought is more of an encompassing feeling—embarrassment. I fought so hard to make Darcy believe that I would be keeping this apartment the other day, and now he knows the truth.
I bend down and pick up the phone, and then I do what I do best: ramble.
“Sorry, I dropped the phone. Yeah, someone bought the complex out and I have to leave. But it’s kind of perfect, you know? Because I am moving in with you and stuff. I definitely had options of places to stay, and I’m still considering renting a new space so that I can—”
“Hayden.” His voice is stern, but also… concerned?
“Hmm?”
“You will have plenty of space for yourself here. Don’t look into other spaces. Do you need assistance packing up your apartment?”
“I, um…”
Knock. Knock. Knock.
“Hold on, please. Someone’s at the door.”
With my mind a muddled haze from embarrassment at Darcy learning the truth of my apartment situation, I fan my face and then open the door.
“Stella!”
“Hayden!”
We jump into each other’s arms with delighted squeals. That’s when I notice Lucas behind her.
“And you brought your sweet, southern hunk.”
“Good to see you, ma’am.” Lucas tips an invisible hat.
“Bring it in,” I say, breaking free of Stella and embracing Lucas with a big hug. He awkwardly taps my back a few times, then he steps away.
“I’m all here for the surprise, but what in the world are you two doing here?” I ask, glancing between them.
“I heard there’s a wedding Saturday, and you’re the star of the show.” Stella steps around me, letting herself into my place. “And apparently we’ve got some cleaning and packing to do.”
That’s when I remember I’m holding the phone and Darcy is on the other end of it. I drag it to my ear. “Oh, well, Stella and Lucas just showed up. I think I have enough help.”
Darcy clears his throat. “Okay, then. I’ll let you go.” He hangs up, and I’m left wondering why he sounded off. Maybe he heard the mention of the wedding? Hearing it from Stella made it seem too real to me. Maybe it did for him, too?
