Grier: Sounds good. Want me to cook something?
Elijah: I’ll bring Thai food. I’ll miss you today.
The disappointment morphed into butterflies. Elijah had been much more open about his feelings since we started seeing each other again. But this was the first time he’d shared anything like that.
Grier: I’ll miss you too.
Elijah: Have a good day, Brown Eyes.
Grier: You too.
Elijah:
I stared at the emoji he sent. It wasn’t typical of him, but I liked it nonetheless. After a brief hesitation, I sent him another reply.
Grier:
Though Elijah remained in the back of my mind all day, I managed to focus on what needed to be done. I spent the first half of the day putting Lucy’s photographs into frames. Davide helped for an hour but vanished after he got a call on his cell.
When I emerged from the storage area, it was nearly lunchtime. My stomach growled, and I thought of the sandwich I’d brought. Davide had a small kitchenette next to his office for caterers to use to prep food or drinks, and I often packed my lunch at home and put it in the fridge.
Before I could head back there, the sound of the bells over the front door had me walking through the gallery. A young man came inside, carrying a brown paper sack with the words Maison de Campagne emblazoned across the front. That was the name of the French restaurant down the street. The one I’d gone to with Elijah.
“Grier Carter?” he asked.
I nodded and walked forward to meet him. He held the bag out to me, and I smelled freshly baked bread, garlic, and onions.
“I didn’t order anything,” I said, even as I took the bag from him.
“Oh, that’s right.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a scrap of paper. “This is from Elijah Lawson.”
I couldn’t help the smile that spread across my face. “Okay. Um, thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he said, turning back toward the door.
“Wait. Let me get you a tip.”
“It’s already taken care of, ma’am.”
Ma’am? I stared after him with my mouth hanging open. He wasn’t more than a few years younger than me. Why was he calling me ma’am?
“I smell something delicious!” Davide called from the rear of the gallery. “What did you get for lunch? And did you get enough for me? I’m starving.”
“I don’t know.”
He appeared next to me. “How can you not know what you ordered for lunch?”
“I didn’t order it,” I answered. “It’s from Elijah.”
Davide grinned. “Oh, he’s got game.”
I didn’t argue because he wasn’t wrong. The butterflies were back to flitting around in my belly due to the fact that Elijah took the time to order me lunch from one of my favorite restaurants and have it delivered.
I carried the bag over to my desk and looked inside. On top was a small white paper sack. I lifted it out and saw that it held a round loaf of bread. It was still warm. I set it to the side and saw two white paper cups with lids. The sides of the cups were warm when I lifted them out. The scent alone told me it was likely soup. I popped one of the lids off and grinned when I saw tomato basil soup, another one of my favorites. Next were clear containers that held salads. Sliced chicken breast rested on a bed of baby spinach and they were each scattered with chopped walnuts, dried cranberries, and crumbled gorgonzola cheese. There was a container of vinaigrette in each one also.
“It looks like he sent enough for both of us,” I said to Davide.
“Damn, he means business.”
