Page 73 of Cinderella Screwed Me Over
Chapter Twenty-four
Since I had a basic idea of Jake’s schedule, it wasn’t too hard to keep from running into him. I headed to the office early and made sure to avoid coming or going into the building around the time Blue closed.
The Lion Inn job was becoming an even bigger mess by the day. Now the owners were talking about adding a few extended-stay suites. They wanted a whole different look for the rooms, and I just didn’t have the same passion that I had for my residential jobs.
At least I get to see Mrs. Crabtree today, I thought as I pulled into her neighborhood.She’d asked if I wanted to do lunch at Blue first—her treat—but I told her I couldn’t get away from the office that early. Which was true. But mostly I couldn’t see Jake. It was only Wednesday and I was going through withdrawals.
Mrs. Crabtree greeted me in typical grandmother form, offering cookies and asking about my day. She led me to the bathroom and I studied the pink-striped wall. The painters had done a great job on it. I bent down and studied the new baseboards. “I think it looks great. Do you like it?”
Mrs. Crabtree nodded enthusiastically. “I really do. Clyde told me he thought I was crazy for wanting a pink bathroom. When I showed it to him, he put his arm around me and said if I’m happy, he’s happy. I think once we get everything else into place it’s going to be perfect.”
“I better get to work, then.”
I kicked off my ruffled, red suede pumps and worked on getting the bathroom together. I hung shadow boxes, filled them with knickknacks—one of them being the sculpture I’d bought from Tina. Looking at the glass-blown flower made me think about how Jake had carried it home for me. If only I’d said no that night, I wouldn’t be thinking about him now.
I shook that thought from my head and got to work on the last touches: hanging pink daisy towels and placing the rugs around the room. I’d had it all planned out in my mind, but it turned out even better than expected.
Mrs. Crabtree beamed when she saw the finished room. “I’ve got to go get Clyde and show him. I bet he’s reading the paper in his den.”
I put my shoes back on, gathered my leveler and hammer, stuck them back into my toolbox, and set it by my purse.
Then I heard an awful noise. A noise I couldn’t quite place, but immediately told me something was wrong. I hurried through the house, searching for where it was coming from. Through the open door of the den, I saw Mrs. Crabtree leaning over her husband.
“Something’s wrong with him,” she cried.
The antique desk in the corner had a phone on top. I picked it up and punched in 911.
…
I pulled my car into the parking garage and made my way to the elevator. I’d been trying to hold it together, but I could feel myself cracking. My eyes burned, a giant lump had permanently lodged in my throat, and a steady rhythm of pain pounded through my head.
I climbed on the elevator, leaned against the wall, and ran a hand through my hair. The elevator stopped on the first floor and Jake got on. I didn’t say anything for fear I’d start crying.
Jake’s eyebrows drew together. He reached out and put his hand on my arm, his eyes searching mine. “Darby? What’s wrong?”
If he wouldn’t have asked, I might’ve made it. “Mrs. Crabtree’s husband had a stroke. I went to the hospital with her and it was awful.” I felt a tear slide down my cheek. “All while we waited for the rest of her family to get there, Mrs. Crabtree told me stories of their sixty years together. I kept praying Clyde would be okay, but…” I forced the last few words out. “He didn’t make it.”
Jake pulled me to him and I buried my head in his chest. I’d wanted to get home before losing it. Now that he had his arms around me, though, I couldn’t keep it in any longer. The tears broke free and the raw achy sensation in my chest spread until I thought I might crumble to the ground. Mrs. Crabtree was one of my favorite clients, and I’d had to sit there and watch her world get turned upside down.
Jake kept me tucked against him as we stepped off the elevator and walked down the hall to my door. Once inside, he led me to the couch and sat down next to me.
“I hardly even knew him, but it was so sad.” I leaned my head on Jake’s shoulder. He put his arm around me and ran his hand up and down my arm. My phone rang again. I didn’t bother moving.
“You need to get that?” he asked softly.
“It’s my boss. She’s called me about ten times, but I was too drained to answer. I’m sure she’s upset about something.” His shirt smelled like cologne and faintly like Blue. The thought of food made my stomach growl. I put my arm over it, trying to quiet it.
“Have you eaten dinner yet?”
“I’m fine. I’ll grab some cereal in a minute.”
Jake patted my knee. “You sit here. I’ll whip something up.”
“You don’t have to. I’m fine. Really.” The fact he was being so nice—especially after everything that happened between us—made me feel like a huge jerk.
“I know I don’t have to.” Jake walked over to my kitchen. He opened cupboards and studied the things I had—a whole lot of nothing. “How do you feel about pancakes?”
“Sounds perfect.”
