As exciting as this is, I’m still coming off the adrenaline of last week. Jack strongly suggested I talk to a therapist after everything that happened. I brushed it off at first, but when I woke up the first night alone in my apartment and had to call Jack after a panic attack, it was clear I needed some help to process the trauma I had yet to acknowledge. But my first session with the therapist Jack recommended went well, and I’m already scheduled for weekly sessions with her for the next few months.
The interview begins in a whirlwind of questions, forcing me to relive the drama of our hike, which I’m thankfully able to talk about much more calmly since that first therapy session. Our account elicits numerous gasps and bicep ogling from Clara when it gets to the part about Jack saving the day.
“Can you tell us how you tied up this case?” Clara smiles encouragingly. “You’ve had quite a bit of feedback, and I’m sure people would be inspired by your story of a civilian using her skills to help.”
I snort a laugh. “I don’t know how helpful I actually was.”
“Willow’s insights were instrumental in figuring out who was behind everything before the perpetrators could escape,” Jack interrupts me to say, and Clara fans her face, turning a swoony expression toward me.
“Walk us through it, Willow,” Reggie prompts. “How’d you figure out who the bad guys were?”
“It really wasn’t anything special. I have a particular skill for talking my way out of problems, and that, combined with some observation skills, led me to figure out that Bonnie was the mastermind behind everything. It was her hair color that tipped me off. When Jerrica was released earlier, I noticed she seemed a little smug. And after I saw Bonnie again, her red hair, the same shade Jerrica tried to cover up, just screamed at me. It’s not a natural tone you see very often. And then their similar features all became so clear. By then, the pieces of the story began to fall into place, and I knew Bonnie had hired Brandon and Chad to transport the smuggled goods for her and called in Jerrica to keep an eye on them once she realized she didn’t trust them. When Brandon realized there was more at stake than just a spearhead, he got greedy, and the plan unravelled.”
Reggie’s mustache straightens as he talks about the bravery Jack and I showed, and a smiling production assistant walks in with the medal the Grand Canyon Police Department awarded me two days ago, modeling it as if it were a game show prize.
I smile to myself, remembering how officers Owen and Mary had been respectively grouchy and delighted to present the award themselves.
“You’ve told us about all the trophies your family has accrued. I bet this will be proudly on display alongside them, won’t it, Willow?” Reggie nods at the shiny silver medal. The irony and humor of the whole thing makes my nostrils flare as I stifle a laugh and force myself to nod in agreement.
I turn to the camera, a cheeky edge to my voice. “How do you think this’ll look beside your little horse trophies, Em?”
Reggie chuckles like he’s sharing my inside joke before asking the next question. “Is there anything you wish you would have done differently in all of this, Willow?”
I take a second to muse over the question before smiling and giving him a small shake of my head. “I wouldn’t do anything differently. Every challenge allowed me to grow. Do I wish someone hadn’t died? Of course, but that was out of my control. But every choice helped me learn something about myself, and it also brought me closer to this guy.” I wink, hooking a thumb toward Jack, whose ears turn adorable red.
Clara expertly plugs my social media accounts before I convince Reggie to let me do a color analysis on him. He’s almost ready to trim his mustache and ditch the bowties by the time I’m done.
“Jack, thank you for coming on our show. We’ll have you back any time,” Clara giggles, fanning her face with her talking cards. “And Willow, you’re just the sweetest thing, I wanna put you in a box and take you home with me.”
“If the box is a spring color, sign me up.” I grin.
As soon as the cameras cut for a commercial break, we’re whisked off the studio floor just as fast as we were ushered on, and I’m ready to put on my bikini and stare at the things Jack’s muscles can do.
But first, there’s something I’ve been dying to figure out.
“Notice how this green sitsonyou? We see the color before we see you.” I meet Jack’s eyes in the mirror in front of us, one hand on his shoulder and my head tilted slightly to the side. He’s facing the window in the spare bedroom that I’ve converted intomy consultation room, fulfilling a fantasy I’ve had since I first laid eyes on this man.
I pull the bright green swatch away, revealing a deep, olive green beneath. “Now this green…somuch better,” I tell him, and my cheeks lift in a smile.
But when I glance at his reflection, I see that he’s not watching himself at all. Instead, he’s watching me with a sexy tilt to his lips.
“You’re supposed to be looking atyourself,” I chide.
He doesn’t break eye contact. Tension sparkles as he devours me with his heated gaze. Gosh, I never knew draping my boyfriend and the mirror-based eye contact it involved would feel so intimate. But I’m about ready to climb into his lap for a thorough makeout if he doesn’t stop looking at me like that.
I clear my throat, straightening my shoulders in an attempt to get back to some form of professionalism. Backtracking, I return the spring green drape across his chest. “Look at this one again,” I wait a few seconds until his eyes obey, then I pull it off, revealing the autumn hue, “compared to this one. Tell me what you see.”
His eyes twinkle, but he does as I ask. “The other one was too…loud?” he offers hesitantly, like he’s not sure if it’s the right answer.
“Exactly. But with this one,” I straighten the olive green over him, “there’s harmony. Your eyes look brighter, and we see more color in your lips.”
“Really?” he asks with that flirty tone.
I swallow, unable to look away from his mouth. “Yup.”
Darn it. Focus, Willow! You’re a professional.
“So I’m an Autumn?”
