“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Nothing, I was just imagining the whole scene; you, throwing the doors open like a prince coming to claim his princess, a wind blowing from somewhere ruffling your hair, everyone else looking on speechless, their mouths hanging open, while you scoop in, grab her, and ride into the sunset.” Cooper finished his description and turned to look at Nate expectantly. Who surely must have had the blankest expression on his face.
“Okay I might have embellished a little,” he trailed off, to which Nate coughed, “a little” under his breath, “but the gist is there!”
Nate couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped him seeing his friend so worked up on his behalf. He slapped a hand on his shoulder. “You’re a good friend, Coop.”
“I know I am, asshole! That’s why we need to strategize. Are we going for something simple or a grand gesture? Maybe some sky lettering that will say ‘I’m an idiot for forgetting about you?’ No? Too much?”
“You know, the scariest thing of all is that I can’t tell if you’re serious or not.”
“Har har, and that’s what I get for handing out precious advice.”
“Yes, thank you for your precious advice but since I have no idea what she must have been thinking all this time, maybe it’s better if I just find her and talk to her.”
Cooper sighed dramatically. “Boring, but you know her better than I do,” he said, but Nate could tell that all of it was just his friend’s way of getting him out of his head. Nate just couldn’t help riling him up.
He shook his head emphatically. “Next time, I’m asking Liam for advice.”
“Hey!” came Cooper’s squawk of betrayal.
Nate was already laughing. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding.”
“You’d better be. Now, get to planning, lover boy.”
thirty-one
Planning was easier said than done. Mostly because planning was more about when Nate would pluck up the courage to head over to Madison’s work and confront the damage he’d inadvertently done. He knew that the more he waited, the longer she had to put everything behind her and chalk the weeks they’d spent getting to know each other up to some kind of fever dream.
That was the outcome he dreaded the most.
But Nate had always been a fan of ripping the band-aid off, and that’s what he was doing on Friday morning while he stood outside the address of the publishing house. It had been relatively easy to find it and now the big, glass doors beckoned him with a pressing urge. He’d always prided himself in his ability to remain calm and collected, sometimes even firm and unyielding, under most circumstances.
He was none of those things now. The only thing he could do now was suck in a deep breath to steady his erratic heartbeat before he took the few steps that separated him from the entrance to the office.
Nate stepped inside and was immediately met with the expected bustle of a normal workday.
As far as he could see, the office stretched into an open-plan space, each workstation separated in a way that reminded him of cubicles—only less restrictive. It felt designed for both communication and privacy, striking a careful balance.
All manner of earth tones covered the floors and furniture, creating a neutral backdrop. But color wasn’t lacking.
It came from the books.
Dozens upon dozens of them. Built-in bookcases lined entire walls, their vibrant spines a striking contrast to the neutral space. Books cluttered desks, filled chairs, and piled high in every available spot.
Enough to last till the end of time.
Despite his earlier prickle of worry, Nate felt himself smile at the thought of Madison working here, surrounded by everything she’d loved since she’d been at school. He was sure that the scent of paper mixed with a subtle smell of vanilla in the air would be cloying on her all day long.
“Sir? Can I help you with something?”
Caught up in looking around, Nate had apparently completely overlooked the reception desk that was smack-dab in front of him, as well as the smiling woman who seemed to have just spoken to him.
“Yes, good morning,” he said, aiming a polite smile of his own at the woman. “I’m looking for Madison Pierce.”
The woman who appeared to be in her mid-40s showed a brief spark of surprise before it too, faded behind her professional smile. She turned to her computer screen, typing something on her keyboard, before she turned once more towards him.
“I don’t see any appointments scheduled. Is she expecting you?”
