Ugh. What a frizzy rat’s nest.
I crack open the door as I get undressed. “Hey, Becks?”
“What’s up?”
“Bring me my face wash, please. I’m going to jump in the shower quickly. I’m sweating in places I shouldn’t be.”
“Hi, Jules!”
“Hey, girl,” Adriana and Carrie call out from Becks’s bedroom.
“Hey! I’m sorry for being rude. I’ll be five minutes tops.”
“Can you ever be on time, like even once? How are you going to be ready in time?” Becks scolds me as she hands me the bottle.
Why is she always on my case? “It’s not my fault, Rebecca. I would have been here forty-five minutes ago on a normal day, but nothing has gone my way.”
She gives me a look like she doesn’t believe me. I’m not in the mood for anyone’s crap right now, or maybe it’s because I hate the way she can see right through me.
After the quickest shower known to man, I stand in the bathroom, leaning back into the wall, taking deep breaths to reset myself.
I rub my temples with a deep pressure, hoping that will help. Instead, I feel the sensation of hot tears trickling out of the sides of my eyes for no other reason than stress.
The truth is, Becks was right. It wasn’t just transit issues that made me late.
I had a meeting with a realtor who didn’t give me much hope for our budget, and an hour before that, Mom called from my aunt’s house to tell me my cousin Amber was home and not acting herself.
Which is not helpful since I don’t know what “herself” means anymore since she stopped taking her medication. When I begged her to come home, she said she was afraid to leave my aunt alone until my uncle came home.
Thankfully, she texted soon after that she was leaving.
Let’s not forget earlier this morning, one of the largest and most expensive mixers we own decided to stop working during our mid-morning prep.
Now, I need to get ready for a black-tie event with Harrison on about three hours of sleep and a confused mind.
I was ecstatic all week for tonight, but now that it’s here, I suddenly feel overwhelmed with emotions.
This past week has been a dream. Harrison, in my eyes, is perfect; he’s a little grumpy and a lot bossy, but I love every part that makes him who he is, which leaves me falling for him…hard.
There is no doubt in my mind or heart that he feels more for me, that it goes far beyond casual. The problem is he’s more stuck in his head than I am. He has a daughter, and for that reason alone, I will never push him into anything more than he is willing to give.
Claud will always come first to him, as she should.
My best friend was the queen of casual until she met Matteo, which I still haven’t figured out; nonetheless, she’s been noncommitted to almost everyone she’s ever been with. I know the signs and the actions, and it’s completely different from how Harrison has acted over the last week.
To most, a week is not a long time. But…it hasn’t beenjusta week.
It’s been a week with a man who has been possessive over my every move, obsessed with my well-being, and now my mom’s after I told him about her arthritis.
He insisted I sleep every night in his bed in his home, a home he’d never brought another woman to.
One day, he sent me flowers at the bakery and Mom red-light gloves because he read they’d be good for her.
Another, he had lunch delivered when he knew I’d be running from the bakery to physical therapy and back in a short amount of time. And, of course, he made time out of his busy day to call to make sure I ate said lunch.
“Juliette? What the hell are you doing? You’re going to be so fucking late,” Becks barks and opens the door without knocking.
Jeez, she’s like a freaking drill sergeant today.
