Page 105 of Forever Wild
“I can’t wait to see it,” I say honestly. Her design aesthetic is different than mine. She is modern and minimalist. Whereas I’m more eclectic. She probably fits in better with Heather’s usual clients, but I’m hoping that gives me an edge. I can add something new. Though in reality, most of the work is far less open to creative input than that. If I get the job, most of my days are going to be spent helping new homeowners decide between three different options for their custom builds. Still, it would be a great opportunity while getting experience.
My phone pings with a text and I pick it up off the counter.
Jack
Are you home?
Me
Work. Why?
Jack
What time will you be here?
I start to type back, but then pause.
Here. Like as in…oh my god, is he in Briar Lake?
“I have to go,” I say to Lisa.
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah.” I smile tentatively. “Everything is fine.”
I grab my things quickly and close up the house. “See you in the morning,” I say to her before getting in my car.
My pulse thrums quickly as I make the ten-minute drive. Even though I had guessed as much, seeing him standing in the parking lot of my apartment building still takes me by surprise.
He’s leaning against the side of his G-Wagon, somehow looking like he belongs here and that he owns the building all at once.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, taking in his black athletic pants and gray T-shirt that hugs his chest and biceps.
“You said not to send any more gifts, so I thought I could take you out to dinner.”
I stare at him slack-jawed. “You drove two hours to take me to dinner?”
“Mhmm.” He moves to the passenger-side door of his SUV and opens it.
It’s surreal to be back in his vehicle. I realize only after we’re pulling away from the apartment that while he looks divine, I’m still in my work clothes.
“I’m a mess. Maybe we should just get takeout or something.”
He glances over at me and his gaze goes to my hair. I pulled it back while I was working and stuck a pencil through it.
I pull out the pencil with a sheepish smile and my hair falls.
“You look great,” he says as he glances back to the road. “What are you hungry for?”
My stomach is a bundle of nerves, so very little. I try to think where we’ll be as inconspicuous as possible. I doubt he wants to draw attention to the fact he’s here.
“There’s a cute pizzeria just down the street here on the right.”
He nods as if that’s settled.
“How’s work?”
I laugh softly. “What are you doing here?”
