Page 32 of Loving Josy
I chuckle, shaking my head at his words. There’s nothing I want more than to call Josy my woman. But with the way things have been between us, I can barely even get a conversation going with her. Still, I’ll take any chance I can get.
I put my tools in the corner, making a mental note to pick up where I left off when I get back. The guys are already prepping for lunch, some of them with packed meals, others getting ready to head out. I tell them to take their time, then make a beeline for my truck. I don’t waste any time driving straight to the coffee shop.
The drive is quick, given that I’m working on a house less than five minutes from Main Street. Lunchtime means the streets are packed with parked cars, making it tough to find a spot. After circling around, I decide to park at Austin’s office. Hisarchitecture firm is just a short walk from the coffee shop, and it’s easier to park here than keep hunting for a space.
As I get out of the truck and start walking, I think about how convenient it is for Austin to be so close. His office being near the shop is actually how he met Violet. Apparently, on Violet’s first day working for Josy, she spilled hot coffee all over Austin’s chest. He claims he’s been in love with her ever since. It’s funny how things work out like that, something so random turning into the best part of his life. I shake off the thought as I approach the coffee shop, heart racing with the anticipation of seeing Josy.
I open the door to the coffee shop, instantly hit by the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee and warm pastries. My eyes go straight to the counter where I see Violet at the register and another girl handling the orders beside her. There's no sign of Austin, so I head over to Violet, standing off to the side to get her attention.
When she sees me, her smile is warm. I lean in, lowering my voice. “Is Josy here today?” Violet glances around before nodding. “Yeah, she’s in the office. You know the way,” she whispers.
I nod, my chest tightening as I make my way toward the back. Each step quickens my pulse, a steady drumbeat in my ears. When I reach Josy’s office, the door is slightly ajar. She sits at her desk, her head buried in her hands, her long, curly hair cascading like a curtain, hiding her face. But her posture speaks louder than words; slumped shoulders, a rigidity in her back, a palpable air of exhaustion. Something’s wrong.
I knock softly, the sound breaking the silence. Her head jerks up, and she stares at me, wide-eyed and startled. “I’m sorry if I scared you. Are you okay?” I ask, stepping inside. Her beautiful dark skin has lost its usual glow, and a sheen of sweat clings to her forehead, where a few stray curls have stuck. She looks like she’s been through hell.
She forces a smile, but it barely reaches her eyes. “Yes, I’m fine. How are you?” Her voice wavers, the words brittle, as if they might shatter under the weight of pretense.
“I’m good. I haven’t seen you much lately, and I wanted to check on you.” I hesitate, then add, “Maybe we could grab lunch or dinner sometime?” I try to keep my tone light, even flashing her a smile, but her reaction makes my chest tighten further.
“Oh,” she says softly, her eyes darting away. She takes a deep breath, as if steeling herself to respond, but before she can, she lunges for the trash can beside her desk, retching violently.
I’m by her side in an instant, pulling her hair back as she heaves. The sour smell makes my stomach churn, but I push it aside, gently rubbing her back. “It’s okay, let it out,” I murmur, my voice low and soothing. Her body trembles with each gag, and it breaks something in me to see her like this.
When she finally stops, she takes a shaky breath and spits into the trash can. I grab a tissue from her desk and hand it to her. She wipes her mouth with trembling hands, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “I’m sorry,” she mumbles, tying up the trash bag quickly and setting it aside.
“Do you feel any better now?” I ask, my voice tinged with worry. “Austin mentioned you weren’t feeling well today, so I came right over. What do you need?”
She looks up at me, her eyes dull with exhaustion. “Let me just throw this away. I’m fine,” she insists, but when she tries to stand, her legs wobble, and she sinks back into the chair. “I’m dizzy,” she admits reluctantly.
“Sweetheart, you’re not fine.” My words come out firmer than I intend. I grab the trash bag from her, leaving her no room to argue, and head to the back of the shop. The clang of the lid as I toss the bag into the trash echoes in the quiet space, a sharp contrast to the chaos swirling in my chest.
When I return, I head straight to Violet. “Hey, can you grab me some ginger ale and a new trash bag for Josy?”
Concern flickers across her face. “Is she still feeling sick?”
“She just threw up. Might be a stomach bug or something,” I explain. Violet hands me a can of ginger ale and a few fresh bags.
“Let me know if she needs anything else,” she says softly.
“I will,” I promise, hurrying back to Josy’s office.
She hasn’t moved much, her head resting on the desk, her fingers clutching the edge as if it’s the only thing keeping her grounded. “Here,” I say, setting the ginger ale in front of her. “Take a sip and see if it helps. I brought extra trash bags, just in case.”
A groan escapes her, low and full of frustration. “This is so humiliating. Can you please just leave? I promise I’m fine.”
“I’m not leaving you like this,” I say, my voice firm but gentle as I step closer. "Not a chance."
“Ugh, just leave, please. I’ll drive myself home and rest,” she mutters, her words laced with irritation as she sips the ginger ale.
I cross my arms, leaning against the desk. “I told you, I’m not leaving. Do you want me to take you to urgent care?”
“No,” she snaps, her tone sharp despite her obvious fatigue. “I said I’m fine. This will pass.”
I study her, my worry deepening. “How do you know? You need a doctor to check you out, maybe give you something for whatever bug you’ve got.”
Josy exhales heavily, rubbing her temples. “I already know what I have,” she says quietly.
That catches me off guard. “What do you mean? Did you already go to a doctor?”
