Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 53417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 267(@200wpm)___ 214(@250wpm)___ 178(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 53417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 267(@200wpm)___ 214(@250wpm)___ 178(@300wpm)
Between time with Suzette after work, an after-hours meeting to schedule a charity function, and Graham leaving town twice for meetings, before I know it, the week has gone by and I haven’t seen him.
He’s busy and I’m busy, and even though the ache I feel when I think about being with him doesn’t go away, I get lost in my life for the first time in a long time. Lost in a good way, this time. Not the way I was lost with Kevin, when the days started to blur together and the only thing that broke it up was getting engaged. Which obviously ended worse than it began.
It feels like a century ago that I was worried about the rent and made that frantic call to Graham. It almost feels like a new life, even though I’m living in the same apartment.
I want it to stay like this, all new and exciting, for as long as possible.
I want things to stay okay. I think, this time, it might stick.
Since I haven’t heard from Kenzie, my needy cousin, in about a week and a half, my aunt tells me she’s doing much better. Some small part of me thinks that it might not be a good thing that my cousin hasn’t messaged, but I can’t bring myself to worry about it when I’m finally in a decent place.
Worrying never helps anyone, anyway. One of the best parts of all this is that my optimism doesn’t feel so hard, now that I have a job and Graham and a group chat with another group of women who I can really see myself being friends with.
Friday after work, I come home from the office at the end of the day and find a paper taped to the door of my apartment.
My heart jumps into my throat and my blood goes cold. In my experience, sheets of paper taped to your apartment door never mean anything good, but as soon as I swallow down my knee-jerk reaction, I realize it’s too small to be an official notice. The paper is too nice, too.
Actually, it’s a note from Graham on a page torn from the pad on his desk. It’s thick, heavy paper with his monogram on the top.
I want to see you. Come up when you get this. I’ve missed you.
That’s all it says.
I peel the paper off the door, dislodging the tape he used to keep it there, and run my fingertips over the words. This feels different. He could’ve just texted me, or called, and told me he wanted to see me. Leaving a note in his handwriting, though...
It means he wrote the note and came up here, thinking of me. It means he pressed the tape to the top of the paper and looked it over before he left. He stood here in the hall, wondering when I’d be home to see it.
It means he knew that anyone could walk by and see this.
No, he didn’t sign his name, but they’d see that someone with bold, clean handwriting wanted someone else enough to tape a note to their door.
That probably shouldn’t make me as giddy as it does. It probably doesn’t mean as much as I think it does. But still, I remind myself, I’m allowed to be a hopeless romantic, even in a not-so-romantic arrangement like this, so long as I protect my heart.
I rush inside, tuck the note on my bedside table, and change out of my work clothes. I think Graham likes my work clothes—his eyes go dark every time he sees me coming through the lobby or meets me for drinks after—but it’s Friday, and I’ve been in those outfits all week. I choose a flowy dress instead and a beautiful pair of emerald earrings Graham bought me while we were on vacation and take the elevator up to the penthouse. It’s my first time wearing them, they stay in a trinket tray on my bedside safe and sound so I don’t lose them. But today feels like a special day and for that, I choose the beautiful earrings that feel just as special.
The elevator lets me directly into the wide, spacious entryway, which looks over his kitchen and the big living room with the stunning view of the city. I’ve been here several times, and I know it shouldn’t be anything special considering I live in the building, but it is. Everything about this space is just what I would have imagined for a man like Graham. It’s clean and beautiful and classy, and the best part of it is him.
Or it would be if I could see him.
I pause, closing the door quietly behind me, and listen. He said he wanted to see me and to come up, so I know he’s in here.