“Except you shouldn’t. Date her,” he says. My face must twist in annoyance so he quickly explains, “I don’t know a lot but I know Janie feels guilty that they were best friends and then she up and left to go to New York. Harper has an older sister, she also left Harp behind. I think there was a boyfriend—”
“Two, actually,” I cut in.
“Right so, like, being left behind is her trauma, mate. You’re obviously leaving Juniper Falls the second your resort is open. What’s the point?”
“I don’t know, maybe,fun?I’m not professing love or marriage. I just would like to…I don’t know, she works herself to the bone it’d be nice to just give her a break, dote on her, take her out to a nice dinner, that’s all.”
“Dinner! You just said you didn’t want to date her!”
“Well, I lied!”
“You never lie!”
“I…” Shit, he’s right. “I was…lying to myself, I guess.”
For a beat we just stand in the ring in shocked silence. We’re both panting with our gloves on our hips, just thinking.
“I stand by what I said,” he finally relaxes and starts shifting his feet. “Don’t do it.”
“Fine,” I raise my hands to resume our session, “I won’t.”
“Good,” he says, raising his hands. We circle each other for a beat and he says, “You’re going to do it, aren’t you.”
“Probably,” I say.
We both smile.
Then he punches me in the stomach.
_____
This is all Ben’s fault, really. He made me think about this. Made me seal the deal in my mind. I want to take Harper out. This is now all I can think about. Thoughts of seeing her laugh across the table, letting her hair down, both literally and figuratively. Maybe we walk around leisurely, maybe we throw the ball around with Stuart…maybe I get to kiss the shit out of her at her door.
I’m not myself. I’m a man obsessed.
Ben got two more good hits in yesterday. I walked into her shop this morning but Janie was there eyeing me, so I mumbled my order—a Vanderwell, mumbling?!—and fled. My general contractor has been asking me questions all day that I barely hear. Mildred called concerned because I haven’t been answering her emails “as promptly as usual.”
I’m distracted and also irked that now I have to wait until tomorrow morning to ask her to dinner. I tried to run into herby chancewhile she rode her bike home but, despite circling around for an hour, I missed her. I could go to her house but she only gets a few hours between work and sleep and I suspect they’re filled with care-taking.
I had Mildred run me a full report on Parkinson’s. I almost wish I hadn’t. Again, I’ve been taken aback by Harper’s strength. Her dream shop is dying, herfatheris dying, her dog is a menace, her friends have all but left her to rot in this Christmas town and yet, on she goes. Each day, all day. Smiling, humming, serving.
I answer emails and heat up an early dinner, one of the meals my Manhattan chef sent to this fridge. I try to focus on work for another couple hours. I pull out my phone and stare at it, willing Harper to need me for some reason. She does not.
At one point it does occur to me, that I could just text her first. But I know myself and I am direct to a fault. I’d get right to the point which would mean asking her to go out with me over text.
Absolutely not.
So I work out in the garage, door open and one earbud out, should Stuart so much as sniff in my general direction. Any excuse to drop everything and find Harper.
But no excuse comes.
Eventually, 9pm comes and goes.
I peer across the street, happy to see all the lights are off. I both hope Stuart stays in and hope he escapes. But he doesn’t. Eventually I get in bed.
Fine. Tomorrow morning then.
_____
