“For a long time after my mom’s death, I was ... scared to be unhappy. I ran—fled, if you like—from my grief. I did everything I could to maintain the status quo. I’d do anything that wasn’t going to take me back to the dark place after my mom died. You’re right. Jed, my job, my entire life in New York ... It’s all been a reaction to my mom’s death.” I feel so far away from the life I had before London. “Londonchanged things.”You changed things,I think but don’t say. “It’s forced me to reminisce, to think about her. And it’s been anything but sad. It’s been ... joyful. I feel healed.”
He reaches for my hand and squeezes.
“You’re right. I’m headed back stateside all too soon. But I’d really like to see you as much as possible before I go. Even if that means I’ll be even more sad to leave.”
“I like the Tuesday who tells me what she wants.” He stands and takes my hand, encouraging me to rise.
I smile and something settles deep inside me. Like things have slotted into place somehow. I’m more me. More complete. “I like her too.”
He mumbles something to the waitress and apparently the bill is taken care of without so much as a signature. We head out of the restaurant.
We stand facing each other. Is this it? I don’t want to say goodbye. He’ll have to say it first.
He tips my head back, pressing his lips to mine in the way he does that makes me feel like I’m made of cotton candy and clouds.
He pulls away and gazes at me like I’m the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen.
“You know what I want?” I ask him. One side of myself has lost the internal battle to keep some kind of distance from Ben. I’m not sure if it’s the right side or the wrong side, but I’m done trying to say no to what I want.
“Tell me.”
“I want you to come upstairs with me,” I say.
“Well, that’s a coincidence, because that’s what I want too.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
I’m alternating between sitting and standing at my desk. Every time I manage to sit, I get the urge to run to the exit.
“You’re sure I don’t need to go up there?” I ask Gail, glancing at the elevators. “Mr. Jenkins was adamant I was going to be in the meeting. I’ve been working on this health check for weeks.”
Gail shrugs. “All I know is Ben called him and changed the meeting, so James went to him rather than the other way around.”
“And he moved the meeting up by an hour? I wouldn’t have gone to get my lunch if I’d known.”
I spent the entire weekend with Ben. We watched two and a half Daniel De Luca movies. We went out for brunch on Sunday, where we’d had two mimosas each and eaten a truckload of avocados. He’d run me a bath that smelled just like him and then refused to join me in the water despite the tub being big enough for a dozen people. Instead, he sat on the bathroom floor and we talked about whether he should get a dog and how much I don’t want to live in Brooklyn. About how he felt when he first moved into his house, and the sunsets in Madison County. When the water had reached room temperature, he’d toweled me dry, applied lotion all over me, and combed my hair. I wondered if there was a chance I could bottle our final weekend together so I could take part of it back to New York.
At no time did he mention anything about changing the time of the health check.
“Don’t worry,” Gail says. “James isn’t going to be angry with you. You had the presentation ready for him. You briefed him. If he’d have wanted you in the meeting, he would have told me to call you, and he definitely didn’t.”
I sigh and lean back on my desk. “He’s been up there over an hour. Is that normal?”
“For most health checks, yes. But Ben is usually too busy to spend the time. Stop worrying.”
Easy for her to say. If I went back to New York without a place on the management fast track, what would I be left with?
Precisely nothing. No fiancé, no home, no job.
The elevator doors ping open and I jump to attention as Mr. Jenkins bounds in our direction. He’s smiling as he passes my desk. I hold my breath, waiting for him to give me some indication of how it went.
Just as he gets to the office door, he turns. “Good job, Tuesday. You covered every base. He was very happy. You’ve impressed me. I’m happy to put you on the fast track.”
He doesn’t wait for a response before heading into his office and shutting the door.
I turn, open-mouthed, and stare at Gail.
“See? I told you not to worry,” she says.