Page 26 of The Art of Falling in Love with Your Enemy
“Don’t call me that; it’s just weird.” Amelia laughs. “You almost done at the store?”
“I am. By the time we hang up, I should be able to pay and get outta here. I already went to the DMV, so I’m on-site the rest of the day setting up.”
“Oh, thank goodness.” Amelia lets out a sigh of relief in my ear. “I’m actually calling because I realized something last night. Without Dylan here, I don’t have anyone to stay overnight and act as the camp manager. So there’s no one around if something goes wrong—not that it will.”
“Oh, great, you know you just Murphy’s Lawed us, right?”
“Stop being such a ninny. I don’t believe in that stuff, but I do believe in my guests feeling like they’re taken care of. Do you mind staying here tomorrow night with the group?”
Do I mind? Part of me wants to admit that I do mind, both because it’s not my home and Zac will be here. The other part of me wants to admit that I’d love to stay overnight…because it’s camp. And Zac will be here.
I’m pretty surprised when I catch myself saying that last sentence in my mind. Have I been stuck thinking about what it would have been like to have kissed Zac Wright the other day? Oh yes. Willingly, I have stayed levitating in an almost dreamlike state thinking of the warmth of his skin and the heat of his breath on my cheek. His scent was clean and fresh, like a load of washing hung outside on an August afternoon in the sunshine blowing in a gentle breeze.
“Etta.” Amelia’s voice, more rushed than usual, cuts through the fog of my thinking. “Is it cool? Will you stay over? Don’t worry, you’ll get paid for the time, too.”
“Of course I can do it. No problem at all.” Then two little figures pop to mind. “I need to figure out where the dogs can stay, though.”
“I’ll take care of it and pay for your dog sitter, so do what you have to, okay?”
I can’t tell from her voice if Amelia’s irritated, because she sounds like she’s in a hurry, or if she’s being generous. I’m thinking she’s irritated with something, but no need to bring it up now. There are a lot of things she could be stressed about, and I’m not going to add to it and bug her.
“Anything for you.” I mean it, and she knows it. I hear it reflected in her voice when she responds.
“Thank you,” she whispers. “I’ll touch base later.”
After we disconnect, I walk back inside to Buttar’s to pay for everything, and Mitchell and Livvy help me load up my tiny VW with all the supplies. Once we’re done, I hop behind the wheel of my car and pull out of the parking lot.
It takes about eight minutes to get from the store to the campground. I even check the clock on my phone when I pull up to make sure. Patting myself on the back for a productive morning, I grab my keys so I can unlock the kitchen and put the food away.
As I flick through the bevy of keys on my ring to find the one I need to open the door, I find myself thinking strange thoughts…like, I wonder if Zac is the one who’s gluten free? Poor guy…if it is him, I know how much he’s looking forward to those s’mores, so he’s going to be disappointed when he finds out he doesn’t have any graham crackers to go with it.
And why on earth am I thinking about Zac? Shaking my head as if to toss the thought out, I get down to business.
I manage to unload a few boxes before my phone beeps, signaling a text. Grinning, because I’m certain it’s Amelia with more items to add to my to-do list, I swipe the phone from my back pocket only to go limp when I see who it is.
STEVE:I want to talk. I think we’ll get more accomplished if we meet in person. Are you free if I come down this week?
ME:No. There’s nothing to say.
STEVE:I just want to talk.
I wish I could believe him, but I think it’s fair to say my trust switch has been flipped off at the moment. Taking my own energy temperature, I decide it’s fairly lower than I’d like it to be, so I do what my old therapist used to encourage me to do with Steve: I disengage.
I start to slide my phone back into my pocket, but instead I turn the ringer off and go put it in my car. The only person I need to talk to today is Amelia, and she knows where I am.
Once I’ve got everything unloaded, I grab the folder for the retreat off Amelia’s desk and double-check our confirmed attendees. We’ve got a group of twelve, including Zac, so I grab the housing map so I can note who will sleep where.
Opening the folder, I’m surprised when a sticky note falls into my lap. Picking it up, I scan it, reading it not once but twice because my eyes cannot believe what I’m seeing.
On the map in front of me, Amelia has placed a giant red X across the bunk rooms, the place where I thought we’d be putting everyone. However, according to the note I’m reading, she’s changed things.
Hey E, I’m so sorry but Spencer accidentally booked workmen to start updating the bunkhouse…tomorrow. I’ve allocated the cabins for everyone to use, there will be plenty of room for up to four people in each. Hopefully, that means you’ll get a cabin all to yourself :) so stake your claim, sister! Thanks again, A. xx
I let the note drop from my grasp, floating back onto the paperwork in the folder. At least she left me with a good solution and I still get a room by myself. I honestly don’t think I could imagine sharing with anyone right now, not with the mood swings I get lately.
“Hello?”
Jumping in the air and almost out of my skin, I dash over to the window to see who called out. Standing by a truck filled with a few suitcases and some more supplies is Zac.
