ELEVEN
KELLY
Zac Thomas is pure evil, leaving me wet with need like this, and with no way of dealing with it. At least not without telling Mary I'm feeling unwell and sending her on her way.
Instead, I have to kill twenty minutes chatting to her about the float and going through our progress in painstaking detail. It wouldn't be the first time I'd had to convince a client to leave their comfort zone.
"Oh Kelly, it's wonderful! Barry will adore it."
I keep forgetting about her husband, having not seen him since the infamous meatball debacle as Zac refers to it. "We'll send you photos after we've assembled everything over at the lock-up."
"No need for that, silly." Her tinkling laughter has lightened every corner of the garage before she continues. "He'll see it on the day. You know, when he rides on it."
While loath to find out what she means, I also hate being taken by surprise at the eleventh hour. And this surprise sounds like it'll be a doozy.
I have to clear my throat before I squeak out, "Rides on it?"
Mary, having left, I waste no time in racing to the hardware store. Zac will need to reinforce that rocket if we're to avoid Barry boldly going where no man has gone before.
Maybe if Mr. Miller was nicer to the neighborhood kids, he wouldn't need to be on there at all. The thought of the old guy sitting up there all alone isn't a happy one, but there's nothing I can do about that.
I can't wait to see the expression on Zac's face when he hears about it. His ability to laugh at the most ludicrous situations is one thing I love about him.
I love him?But, I can't. Not having known him for a little over a month. "Oh, what have you done?"
With no answer forthcoming, I carry on to the hardware store, my mind awhirl with what it all means. Another bout of heartbreak for me seems the most likely outcome.
With thoughts of my newfound love for Zac filling my head, I'm in a daze when I walk through the main doors at Tremaine Hardware. I turn right and head for the lumberyard as on previous trips with Zac, not looking where I'm going.
I'm wondering how I'm supposed to keep my feelings to myself, to avoid being hurt, when I see him. Unfortunately, he's not alone. He's chatting to a woman who is everything I'm not.
Tall, tanned, stunning, and wearing a skimpy tank top and cut-off denim shorts that I'd never get away with, let alone into. Her long brunette hair pulled up into a tight ponytail, only adds to her overall height, leaving me Hobbit-like in comparison.
When this goddess then reaches out and places her hand over Zac's heart, I miss a step.
There's nothing I can do to avoid the teetering pile of watering cans in the middle of the wide front aisle. I send the brightly colored cans in all directions. In my favor is that they're plastic rather than metal.
Despite the muted bongs as they bounce off the concrete floor, I don't hang around to see if Zac has seen me. After stumbling into a side aisle, I flee. I'm just as quick to leave the store, and even the parking lot.
There's no way I'm driving home. If I go home, he'll likely be there so he can spin me some BS about her meaning nothing to him, and that they're old news.
She didn't look like old news to me. She looked like the latest glossy magazine.
After parking down at the beach, I wander along the wide expanse of sand, all while ignoring a half dozen phone calls. What starts out as heartache soon turns into anger, although I'm as angry with myself as I am with Zac.
And why am I even surprised?
A guy as hot as him would never stick with someone like me. Not when there are women on offer like the one that I'd seen at the hardware store.
They went together. She was what people expected when they saw a guy like Zac. Not me. As we say in advertising, I'm all wrong for his brand.
All wrong for him.
I've completed six lengths of the beach when an email from the President of MC&S pings up on my phone. If not for its arrival, I might have continued walking until I collapsed in the sand and gave into my tears.
Now, instead of being lovesick, I'm sick to my stomach with worry that the email is to tell me I'm being sued for poaching Burt's Pet Food. And while I can fight it, the ensuing court case would be drawn out and expensive.
However, his email is about nothing of the sort, although I have to read it twice to get the full import of what he's offering.
