Page 23 of Falling Madly
Three old-fashioned cable poles pierced the open floor, supplying power and internet connections to where the workstations had been. There was nothing to see, per se. The couple of windows were the pretty, paneled kind, casting a pattern of filtered daylight across the floor. The walls were white and blank, punctuated by two doors leading to other rooms. It was a perfectly functional space, and many times larger than what we had right now. And it cost about the same.
I could tell Teresa had noticed the size. She circled the room as if measuring it with her steps, her head tilted.
“I like the natural light,” I said, to appease Annalise. “Is there an ethernet connection?”
She fussed about showing me a little cupboard with wires sticking out of the wall inside it. “Right here. All good to go. The previous tenant ran a call center. They never had any issues.”
“Why did they move?” Teresa asked.
She cleared her throat. “The business… um, closed down.”
Teresa cast me a meaningful look, and I acknowledged her with a brief nod. Businesses went under every day. It happened in big cities and small towns alike.
“Let me show you the kitchen!” Annalise powered on, opening another door. “It’s quite cozy, but there’s space for a coffee maker and a microwave here. And you could fit a small table by the window.”
We followed her to the end of the narrow space, where you could just about fit a bistro-style table and two chairs.
“We can always take turns eating lunch,” Teresa muttered, pointedly backing out as if there wasn’t enough space to attempt a one-hundred-eighty-degree turn.
“Like we take turns right now to use our current office?” I shot back with a grin.
Annalise’s professional smile never wavered. “There’s also a small storage space, but that’s about the size of it.”
“Could you leave us here for a bit to talk shop?” I asked her. “I have a few things to discuss with my colleague.”
“Sure thing!” She beamed, handing me the key. “I have some business down the street. I can collect this later. Just give me a call.”
“Thank you so much.”
She wiggled her fingers at us and wobbled away on her pink heels.
Teresa had settled by the window, leaning her forehead against the glass, staring outside. I shifted a little closer, trying to read her mood. “Okay. I know this isn’t what you had in mind for Valentine’s Day.”
She jerked back, as if thrown by my sudden appearance. “I told you we had a dinner reservation at this small Italian place. My favorite restaurant. I was going to have the creamy mushroom risotto.” Her voice was dreamy, yet depleted.
“And soufflé,” I added, not very helpfully.
Her voice echoed off the blank walls. She sounded sad. “He never canceled on me. He would have gone out with her for lunch, then met me for dinner.” She pushed away from the window and shuddered. “Who does that?”
“Dicks who like to keep their options open.”
Her mouth twisted, lips pink and plump from all the biting. I wanted to soothe them with mine. I wanted to make it all better. If I could climb over this wall between us.
“Does it look the same?” I asked, gesturing at the view behind the window.
“By and large. A lot prettier in some ways. Everything looks freshly painted and I can’t remember there being this many decorations, ever.”
“I was here around Christmas time and the whole place was lit up and bursting with tinsel. Their holiday budgets have probably gone up with all the tourism,” I said.
“It doesn’t have that dwindling feel anymore. So many small towns have that sadness about them, like everyone’s just bracing for the next person or business to pack up and leave.”
I took a tiny step forward. “I honestly think our business could thrive here. We’d need to work remotely with some clients, but there are also some we could tap locally. There’s a real sense of community and people want to work with local businesses. They only have a couple of freelancers offering design and marketing, but no companies. Ye wouldn’t have to fight over every job.”
She nodded slowly, her gaze still at the window. “If it was any other town…” The sentence trailed off, and I tried to give her space, staying quiet.
“Yeah, I get that,” I finally replied. “But you’ve changed. The town has changed. Maybe it won’t be the same.”
“Let’s go get coffee!” She threw out her arms and smiled, a little forcefully, like she was shifting gears without a clutch. “My brain needs a strong cup of something.”
