Page 29 of Where There's A Will
Minutes before seven-thirty, I exited my apartment to see Montana struggling to exit hers. She hadn’t seen me, so I could easily dart back into my place and pretend I hadn’t seen her. I hesitated a beat, shook my head and went over. My first instinct was to tell her Hugo had been spotted wining and dining another woman the previous night. But seeing the excitement on her face made me clam up.
“I got you,” I murmured instead, as I helped her manoeuvre the luggage while she locked up. “You going for a week or a month?” I teased, noting the multiple suitcases.
Montana shrugged. “He told me to pack for everything. So, I packed for the theatre, sightseeing, studio tours, the country, everything I could imagine.” Her eyes glazed over a little and I wondered if it was from the excitement, thinking she was soon going to be in London.
Desperately, I wished it were me taking her.
That I was the one who was going to be showing her the delights of Sticks’N’Sushi and we’d walk alongside the Thames hand-in-hand.
Not him.
I pushed the thought out of my mind.
“Rain?” I asked. “There’s a lot of it this time of year.”
“Not that.” She sighed. “Wait, have I got time to go and get a jacket?”
I laughed. “I’m sure you’ll be fine.” I hefted two of her suitcases toward the lift, leaving her to carry the smaller one and her carry-on bag.
We travelled down in the elevator, neither of us speaking. Yet so much should have been said.
“You’re too nice,” she murmured sadly when we reached the lobby.
I was rather inclined to agree with her, but I said nothing.
“Is he waiting on you?” I asked as we exited the elevator.
Montana shook her head. “I’m trying to be proactive. I’m usually late, so thought I’d surprise Hugo and be waiting for him.”
In the past week, I hadn’t seen any evidence of her being late for anything. I couldn’t believe she was trying to impress Hugo.
“Have you eaten?” I asked as I made my way toward the door.
She shook her head. “No, I didn’t have time. I wanted to make sure I was ready.”
I nodded my head and exhaled. “Well, I’m going to get bagels. I’ll bring you one. Cinnamon swirl is your favourite, right?”
Her eyes widened. “How did you know that?”
I grinned and shrugged. “You know your super-organised takeout folder? With all the menus? You had it circled on the menu of the place a few blocks away.”
Her eyes teared up and I knew she remembered. “What if I’m gone?” she wondered. “You know, when you get back.”
“Then I’ll have to eat yours too.” I chuckled. “And wish you a safe flight now.”
With every fibre of my body screaming out I should kiss her, I pushed through the door and refused to look back. I felt her eyes on me, and while that felt good, I felt bad for making her cry and also terrible because she still hadn’t picked me.
There were a couple of people in the queue in front of me and I waited impatiently as they ordered, paid and waited for their food. When I reached the front, I asked for a meat, eggs and cheese bagel—to satisfy my impending hangover—and the sweet one for Montana. Time stood still while they made them, and I wished they would hurry up. The minutes ticked by, but eventually they were ready. I half sprinted back to our building, sure I would have missed her.
When I rounded the corner, I saw Montana loading her own luggage into the trunk of the car while Hugo sat behind the wheel, tapping it impatiently.
When she realised I was right there, she blushed profusely, cheeks flaming red.
“Let me help,” I said. “Here’s your bagel.”
I passed her the right one from the bag, then expertly fit her bags into the back while she watched me, helplessly.
“Jesus, Montana, how long does it take to put your stuff in the back?” called Hugo from the driver’s seat.
