“I need, like, the entire county to buy from me if I have a chance of keeping the doors open.”
“Oh.” I stare at him for a moment, partly shocked that he would even tell me that much. I thought he might do something like, I don’t know, play it off. “That’s a bummer. How long do you have?”
He shrugs, and I can tell he doesn’t really want to discuss this, but he’s an honest guy, one who is being earnest with me right now. “Maybe a year, if I’m lucky.”
“Derek,” I sigh, setting my napkin down and leaning on the table. “I’m sorry. That’s hard.”
“It is what it is.” He forces a smile, and I can tell right before he does that he’s going to change the subject. “So, how’s Rora? She’s in preschool, right?”
For a moment I want to shift the conversation back, and my marketing brain wants to do everything it can to help this man. I know so many tricks to get his name out there, so many campaigns that we could do. Unfortunately, even though I would offer my services for free, I don’t see him feeling willing to accept.
We spend the rest of my lunch hour talking and laughing about memories from the past. He asks me about my family, and I go on for far too long gushing about my parents, all the while he’s sitting there, listening patiently with a kind smile on his face.
He has to be one of the nicest men I’ve ever met, aside from my dad.
The entire time we sit here, I can feel myself slipping deeper and deeper into that infatuation that I was feeling toward him.
If I let myself, I was going to fall very, very hard for this man.
As I leave, I can’t help but notice—sadly—that he didn’t have a single customer walk through those doors.
Chapter Thirteen
“You could say no to so many opportunities in life, but what happens if you say no to the one thing fate wants you to say yes to.” - Archer
DEREK
The text that arrives is unexpected.
Not because Birdie texting me is a new thing. Since our day at the farmers’ market, we’ve found ourselves texting often, even if it’s just sharing funny videos back and forth, checking in at the end of the day, or just sending a randomhave a nice daytext.
Which is why I feel my stomach clench in horror when I read the words on the screen.
ELIZABETH: Hey, I know this is last minute, but would you be available to babysit tonight?
It was Saturday night. A notorious date night that is well-known all over the world. And one that apparently Elizabeth is using to her advantage.
The crushing disappointment follows me as I change my clothes, heading out the door for another night of babysitting. I love Rora, she’s one of the coolest little kids I’ve ever met. But I don’t want tojustbe going over there to babysit.
Family night? Hell yeah.
Babysitting and watching the woman I’m damn near gone for going on a date with another man? Yeah… not what I want at all.
I can’t help but think back to my last girlfriend. Stace was obsessed with me, and at first it had been something I loved, something I craved, and having her around when my friends were falling into relationships made me feel like I was keeping up with them.
It wasn’t until late into the game that I realized what we had wasn’t healthy, that her obsession with me, while flattering, was her trying to control and manipulate me. And me relying on her was based in fear and being dependent on her to give me what I thought I always wanted. Garrett was the one who helped me get myself out of that situation.
As I arrive at their apartment, I stand in front of the door and talk myself into telling her how I feel. I’m bound to lose a new friendship if she turns me down, which will crush me. But I can’t just sit around and watch her do this, knowing how I feel.
However, when she opens the door, my words are lost.
She’s wearing a blue summer dress that brings out her eyes and her creamy skin tone. Her smile is wider than I’ve ever seen before, her lips are painted in a soft pink, and her hair is curled in the same fashion it was for her last date.
“Hey!” she says brightly, enveloping me in a hug that I relish. My hands slide around her waist, her warm skin touching mine before it ends too quickly. My fingers still feel like they’re buzzing with energy.
“You look stunning,” I state, not holding back the slight edge to my voice. Some other guy gets to enjoy that, gets to fawn all over her, tell her how gorgeous she is, and probably—most likely—not appreciate anything he has right in front of him like I would.
“Thank you.” She does a cute twirl that reminds me of her daughter and grins at me. “It’s a new dress.”
