I know my aunt can be… difficult, to say the least. She’s constantly running around and getting into everyone’s business. Her redeeming quality is that she does it because she genuinely cares. I’m not saying it’s right or that people enjoy her meddling, but she’s always the first one to reach out a helping hand when she hears someone’s struggling. She’ll contact every last grandma when she hears someone is in need of a meal. Or the first to send a gift basket to a family who suffered a loss. It’s her calling. In this instance though, it’s doing more harm than good.
I realize I’ve been staring at the worn brown door to the bathroom when Quinn stands beside me, nudging me in the stomach with her shoulder. “Aren’t you going to go check on her?”
“Me?” I ask, confused. “I think she’d prefer you more than me.”
Quinn groans, head thrown back, arms reaching to the sky. “You’re an idiot. You’ve been trying so hard to get her to like you, the moment you have an opportunity it’s like you’re completely oblivious.”
"I should go after her? She’s in a closed bathroom, I’m pretty sure she wants to be left alone.”
“I’m telling you,” she pushes up her glasses, “you need to go check on her.” When I don’t move, she goes behind me and starts pushing me in the direction of the bathroom.
“Alright, alright. You’re one persistent little thing.”
“Damn, I mean, darn right.” Her cheeks flush pink with her slip-up, but she’s adorable.
Dodging through the maze of objects that covers the floor, I reach the door and gently knock. Nothing. I get no response from the other side of the door. “Sammie, are you alright?” Waiting a bit longer, I try again. “Sammie?”
This time I hear a sniffle. Is she crying in there? “Sammie, I’m coming in.”
Luckily the door is unlocked. Stepping into the small room, Sammie is standing in front of the mirror, eyes red rimmed. Closing the door behind me to keep everyone from seeing, I slide in behind her and place my hand on her shoulder. We are squeezed in the tiny room between the toilet and the sink, only inches separating us.
“What’s going through that pretty head of yours?” My hands slide down her arms and back up to her shoulders, offering comfort. I hate seeing her cry.
Wiping her hand down her face, she sighs. “It’s nothing.” She looks at my reflection in the mirror as she speaks, her voice quivering.
“Sammie,” I say, voice soft, “if you're crying, it’s not nothing. Let me help.” She closes her eyes, arms bracing on either side of the sink as she lowers her head. One of my hands moves to her back, stroking down the length of her spine. She breathes deeply, her body relaxing.
“Forget it, I’m fine.” Suddenly, she pushes herself off the sink, turning to face me.
Our mouths are inches apart and the urge to kiss her is overwhelming. Instead of keeping my hands to myself, they gently rest on her waist. The large, tattered sweater she’s wearing hides all those luscious curves that fit my hands perfectly.
It’s my turn to breathe deeply as I look into those giant blue eyes still glassy with tears. The pull towards her is consuming me. The tension between us is palpable. Just the thought of the taste of her lips, the soft feel of them against mine has my mouth dropping open and head tilting ever so slightly. Sammie does the same, like the intensity growing between us is drawing us together. Leaning even closer, our lips almost meet before she pushes away and opens the door.
“It’s nothing.”
Chapter Nine
Sammie
Staying late at the warehouse is about to bite me in the ass. Covered in red paint, I sprint through the apartment door, dodging the various Christmas decorations, and head straight for the shower. There’s no way I can show up late to the city council meeting today after what happened with Mrs. Haverford.
There’s just something about that woman that gets under my skin. Maybe it’s her putting herself into this whole project, or maybe it’s the subtle way I feel she’s belittling all the work I've done. Every ounce of my energy and passion has gone into creating this masterpiece and she calls it a ‘mess’.
Scrubbing away at the stubborn paint on my arms with my luffa, my mind drifts to Levi. The way his eyes glanced between me and his aunt shows that he knew how I would feel about her showing up. Then, the way he followed me to the bathroom…
Levi’s presence had been a balm to my raw nerves. His strong hands gripped my shoulders, running down my arms while I tried to compose myself. Then, when his hands rubbed up and down my spine, my body ignited. All my awareness focused on his hands on my body and where I wished they would go. Fighting the urge to touch him, I needed to get out of there. He was just so close.Damn that tiny bathroom.I wanted him so badly, but I couldn’t.I can’t. My parting words were more me trying to convince myself than a rejection of him. Ithasto be nothing, but I’m finding my reasoning for why is dwindling.
I normally don’t let my emotions get the better of me, but let’s blame it on the stress. Every snowflake that’s fallen has been a setback to the final preparations that I now only have two days to complete. Yes, we’ve been able to get almost everything ready for when the weather lets up, but time won’t be on our side. Once again, I find myself cursing the lady who vacated this position a month before Christmas.
But then I wouldn’t have the job.
Finally spotless, I exit the shower and throw on a long-sleeved emerald wrap dress. Not bothering with a ton of makeup, I swipe some mascara, blush, and lipstick before throwing on knee-high boots and walking out the door.
Traffic on Main Street was slow at this time of night, so I was able to walk in thirty seconds before the meeting began. Thank God.
“Welcome everyone, to the City Council meeting taking place on the twenty-second of December in the year two thousand twenty-two.” Mayor Desmond stands at the podium addressing the small crowd and city chairmen. “On tonight’s docket, Louise Warner will speak on the state of the city museum and the report from the inspector. Ronald Paulson will discuss the ongoing renovations at the community center. And Miss Samantha Williams will be speaking on the updates to the Christmas Spectacular. Following these scheduled sessions, there will be a time to hear from the community as well on any issues they wish to address.”
Looking around the room at all five of us sitting in the audience—three of whom are set to speak—makes me think that time will be short.
