Page 37 of Holly versus Mr. Ivy
basement.
Jack:Mine.
Good.
Rhett:Got it. What day and time? And do I need to come prepped with cleaning supplies?
Jack’s home was usually tidy. Another thing we had in common. But with the way my house slipped during my bouts of depression, Jack’s might have too. If he hadn’t managed the energy to clean his lately, I’d be more than willing to help pick up for him. He’d done it for me last year.
Jack:I’m perfectly capable of cleaning.
Typical Jack, brushing me aside. Sorry, man, not going to happen.
Rhett:That wasn’t my question. Are you at least wearing clean underwear? Showered?
Jack:Dude…gross. Stop asking what I’m wearing. What if I’m naked?
I blurted out a laugh. The blonde-haired woman standing in line in front of me peeked at me over her shoulder.
“Sorry.” I waved my phone at her so she’d know I wasn’t laughing at her. “A text.”
She flashed me an annoyed look before facing forward again.
Rhett:Will it help if I tell you I’m wearing boxer briefs?
Jack:TMI. And if you’re asking if I’m wearing the cupcake-themed boxers you bought me for Christmas last year, the answer is no. I threw them away.
Rhett:Dang, bro. That’s hurtful. I don’t toss out the gifts you give me.
Well, that’s a lie. One year, Jack bought me a fart filter. That had gone straight into the trash.
The line moved again. I stepped forward, catching my first glimpse of Noah and another guy working the register.
Jack:[pic of himself wearing cupcake-themed boxers and nothing else] Happy now? And you’d better trash this photo. I only did it to prove I wouldn’t really be so callous as to throw away something you gave me. I’m not a monster, despite what you think.
Another bout of laughter burst out of me. I couldn’t believe Jack, Mr. Grumpy-of-the-highest-sort sent me a selfie.In boxers.
Rhett:I don’t know…I bet if I posted this online, we’d raise enough money for you to open another bakery in a heartbeat. A calendar may not be a bad idea either.
The blonde in front of me left, and I pocketed my phone, stepping up to the window.
“Hey, man. What can I get you?” asked the guy with black hair.
“I need two dozen assorted donuts, please.”
He tapped on the iPad in front of him. “Any particular kinds you want included?”
“Nah, just whatever you feel are your best flavors.”
Noah turned, a confused smile lifting his lips. “Rhett. Hey. Holly didn’t mention you were stopping by.”
My phone pinged with another text. I swiped the notification away, tapping on the wallet app on my phone and holding it up to the iPad screen. “That’s because she doesn’t know I’m here.”
Noah’s brows rose, a proud smile on his lips. “Really?”
“Yeah. She’s working early today, and I thought I’d surprise the staff with a treat as a thank you for the overtime.”
Noah eyed me. “Huh. No wonder Holly likes you. I’ll pack a Berliner for her. They’re her favorite. You can thank me later.” He spun around, snatching a box as he went.
