The three dots appear again, and then another photo of him sitting at his desk.
Dutton
Yeah, and some of us don't get much done because we're reading a book.
My head drops back on a laugh.
Brooke
Oh, it must be a hard life to be sitting alone in your office reading a wonderful romance novel. Tell me, is your door open or closed when you read the sex scenes?
The moment my thumb taps that blue arrow, my eyes widen. Why did I ask him that?
I sink into the closest chair and stare at my phone, willing it to erase my text.
There are no little dots appearing to show he’s replying. Just the extra fun note under my message that saysread.
I took it too far, didn’t I?
I thought this was what we did. The banter and teasing. I thought it was how our friendship worked.
Another few odd seconds tick by, and just when I’ve convinced myself to send the classic “just kidding” text, a knock on the bakery door scares me right out of my seat.
I look at the glass to see who it is, and my heartbeat begins to return to normal.
I unlock the door for Mrs. Buckley.
She’s holding a giant bouquet of lilies that smell wonderful.
From time to time, someone asks her to deliver flowers with a treat from my shop. Normally, she calls ahead to get it ready, but she must have forgotten today.
“Those are gorgeous,” I tell her, gently touching one of the pedals closest to me so that I can smell it. “Did you need something to go with them? I hope I didn’t miss your call and set you back today.”
“No, dear, you did not. These are actually for you.” She grins and hands me the vase.
“For me?” I repeat and take them from her. “Thank you.”
I notice there is a card, so I set the flowers down and pull the card out.
Before I start reading, I spot Mrs. Buckley waiting with the oddest grin on her face.
It makes me pause a moment.
“Go ahead. Read it,” she says and nods.
I’ve never seen her look so … giddy.
I flip the top open and slide the card from its small white envelope.
It’s handwriting I’m not familiar with, but the words leave me with no doubt who it’s from.
Books,
Mrs. Buckley is watching me write this. She better not read it. God, she scares me.
See you tonight.
Big D.
