The last thing I need is him drowning me out with glib promises and mansplaining.
Instead, I hit the REPLY button, my fingers poised above the keys, ready to respond. Ten seconds pass, before I snatch my hands away from the keyboard, second guessing myself.
Sure, it's a great job, the best I'll ever get. But, do I want it? Do I want to be at the mercy of that industry again? It wasn't so long ago that my blood ran cold every time I received an email, or even when I didn't.
Like when Jason and the head of client services were ghosting me.
I'm still in stasis when another email arrives, this one from Caroline Burt. The contents are as unexpected as the one from Brian Mackey. The difference here is that this email has my tummy full of butterflies, not boulders.
However, it's also an opportunity that will see me stuck in Coogan's Break with all its memories of my time with Zac. That would destroy me.
This has me re-reading Brian's email with its once in a lifetime offer. I flick back and forth between the two emails, all while adding to my ever-growing list of pros and cons.
In the end, the obvious choice makes itself known to me. I'm still wondering if I'm not "Making the biggest mistake of my life" when I hit REPLY.
My acceptance email sent, I slump back in my ergonomic chair, unsure of what to do next.
But, before starting something new, I need to sort a few things out. The first is that blasted float. With Zac having moved out, I doubt he'll continue helping me with it, too busy searching for my replacement.
I refuse to leave Mary in the lurch. That's not who I am.
Despite my can-do attitude, I'll still have to get the trailer over to Barry's lock-up and find someone else to complete the final assembly. It doesn't matter that the design is mine, I wouldn't know a wrench from a, a … Whatever some other tool is.
I'm searching for a local building company that isn't Lucky Break Construction, when I see Zac backing into the driveway. This is unexpected. I didn't think I'd see him again. And why is he backing in? Ready for a quick getaway?
I don't give myself time to think about it, instead rushing for the bathroom so I can splash my face with cold water. There isn't a chance I want him to see I've been crying over him.
ZAC
With Kelly mentally on her way back to LA, she won't want anything to do with the float. The sooner I tow it over to Barry's lock-up, the better.
At least with everything over there, I can get on with the final assembly and avoid the temptation that is Kelly Sanderson. I have to maintain some level of pride.
Sure, leaving before dawn was an asshole move, but once Audrey decided she wanted to commit to staying with Mom and Dad, there was no holding her back. Add in that she and Clive were still on Honolulu time, and they'd been awake since four o'clock.
And while I'd heard them moving around, Kelly, who I'd made love to like it was the last time, had slept on. Half asleep as I'd been when we left, it was pure luck that had me remembering to grab the key for the lock-up.
When I'd later explained to Ethan about my sister being in town, he'd suggested I take the rest of the week off.
It's the breathing space I need to work out where I'd gone wrong with Kelly, finish the float, and catch up with my sister.
Audrey had been so nervous about her and Clive moving to our folks' place that she'd begged me to spend a couple of days there. And I can't blame her. We both knew how our dad could be.
She wanted me to be on hand to run interference in case the old man changed his mind about welcoming her back into the fold. He could be a crotchety bastard when his arthritis was bad.
It also gave me somewhere to stay until I could organize something else. My preference is something long term to avoid any couch surfing while I fix up my place.
With Kelly accepting that job, it told me that whatever we'd had; it was over. And with her moving back down south, I can't stay at Sand 'O' Sun on my own.
Time for her to return to her real life. That once again, I'd been cast in the role of holiday entertainment by a stuck-up city girl.
I've not had time to engage the park brake on my truck when Kelly is next to my door, and she looks steamed, although why I wouldn't have a clue? I'm only going along with what she's decided.
Mind you, it wouldn't be the first time I'd gotten the wrong end of the stick. While I know my way around a woman's body, what goes on inside their head can be a complete mystery. And Kelly's no different.
However, she was the one who called it quits. Not me.
"Oh, so you've come back, have you?"
She stands rigid with anger, hands on hips, her eyes sparking. And damn it, if it isn't a turn-on. It's a side of her I haven't seen in bed, but if she was to truly let go, wow.
As always, when I'm near her, my cock takes control of all rational thought, leaving my brain to stutter, "Uh, uh, uh."
Unable to defend myself with her accusations flying thick and fast, I hold my hands up in surrender. She's not done with me, though. Not by a long shot.
"How dare you sneak out in the middle of the night?"
"It wasn't the middle of the night, it was five-thirty." As a defense, it's weak. I had snuck out. I hadn't kissed her awake as I always did, wanting my memory of our last night together to remain unsullied.
When I see her winding up again, I can't stop myself from spitting out, "And anyway, you're a fine one to accuse me of running out. Isn't that what you're doing by accepting that job?"
"What are you talking about? You know nothing of that." While her words lack conviction, her brow is creased with confusion.
"No, of course I don't. Why would I? I'm just a hick from a hick town." My arm thrust out to the side to encompass Coogan's Break; I then carry on. "I don't have time for this crap. Let me grab my tools and the trailer and I'll be out of your hair."
"Like heck, you will. That float is my responsibility, just as much as it is yours."
Despite having just said this, she then points the remote at the garage door, with it lifting in response. Talk about mixed messages. No wonder I have trouble understanding women.
Rather than walk inside and grab my tools, I jump back in my truck, wasting no time shoving it in reverse. However, in my haste to hook-up the trailer and get out of there, I come close to running Kelly over.
It's enough to have my scalp prickling in response to how close I'd come to hurting her. While I might hate that she chose that job over me, I don't hate her. Far from it, with my body thrumming with anticipation at being close to her.
I wrench on the park brake and throw myself out of the cab, desperate to see if she's okay. She's frozen behind the tailgate where she'd been when I spotted her at the last second.
Despite having told myself on the way over that I'd keep my distance, I can't help myself. I drag her in for a tight embrace, desperate to prove I'd meant her no harm. Not kissing her goodbye this morning was one of the hardest things I've had to do in a long time.
"I'm sorry, so, so sorry." As I repeat this mantra over and over, I'm no longer sure if I'm sorry about nearly backing over her, or for losing what we had.
Rather than melt against me as she usually would, she stands rigid, her arms tight against her sides. This leaves me feeling as awkward as a pimply-faced teenager at the end of their first date.
Eventually, I realize she won't respond, much less acknowledge my apology. I therefore waste no time in moving her out of the way and getting back in my cab. The sooner I hook-up the trailer and leave, the better. However, this time, I reverse slowly, my nerves still on edge from the near-miss.
In concert with tossing my tools into my toolbox, I fire rejoinders at her. "Hey, if it wasn't for me, you wouldn't have anything to do with the float." I chuck a torque wrench in the general direction of my toolbox before carrying on. "And don't worry, I won't screw up your precious design."
After slamming the toolbox in the back of my truck, I drag the trailer forward until the coupler is over the towbar. Once it's hooked up, I tow it forward so I can load all the extra stuff in the back.
Given the fragile nature of all the bits and pieces Kelly had collected, I'm more careful with them than I had been with my tools.
Of Kelly there's no sign, with her having stormed off in a huff.
"Fine, if that's how you want to be. You go for it!"
With everything loaded and tied down, I lean in and hit the button on the wall, closing the garage door.
It's not until I climb back into my truck that I see Kelly is in the passenger seat, her seatbelt done up, her arms crossed. She's not going anywhere. Other than to the lock-up.
So much for my wanting to keep as far away from her as possible.
