Lizzy:Shit. Are you still on your errand? Sorry!
Lizzy:What kind of errand takes like ten hours?
His lips quirked into a grin. Did all these texts mean that she missed him? She was most likely bored, but maybe she missed him a little, too. He tried to ignore how happy that made him, because he was supposed to be getting over her.
Lizzy:I’m going to gnaw on my left slipper to curb my hunger because everyone knows the left shoe is always tenderer.
Lizzy:Or was it the right shoe? I can’t think straight. You know, cuz the hunger.
Lizzy:You suck.
He chuckled as he texted back.
Jack:It’s the right shoe. Everyone knows that.
The ellipses started rolling within a second of him hitting Send. She really must be hungry.
Lizzy:Well, they’re both gone now, so I’m full.
Lizzy:Which means I’m rescinding my dinner offer.
Jack:Save your lawyer lingo and meet me for dinner.
Lizzy:Are you offering me your right shoe?
Jack:Even better. Mexican food.
Lizzy:Apology accepted.
He looked down at himself. He’d hung his suit jacket on a hanger in the back seat, but he was still wearing a loosened tie, dress shirt, and slacks. He was a bit overdressed for Mexican food with his best friend. He’d better change.
Jack:I’ll pick you up in 15 minutes.
Lizzy:See you soon.
He pulled up in front of Sparrow Bookstore ten minutes later, his heart thumping with anticipation. He still couldn’t believe Lizzy was in Weldon—just a five-minute drive away from his house. Even though he was early, he couldn’t wait to see her, so he walked around to the back and climbed the steps to her temporary abode. He knocked and stood back, trying not to fidget.
“Who is it?” a hesitant voice asked from behind the red door.
“Guess,” he said dryly.
The door opened an inch and a suspicious eye peeked out, which promptly rolled up to the ceiling. She opened the door wide and stood with a hand on her hip. “You said fifteen minutes.”
“I got here early, so I thought I’d check out your place. I’ve never been up here before.” He stepped inside but kept his shoes on because Lizzy was slipping hers on. “I forgot for a second that you big-city folks complete a full-body scan before opening the front door.”
“I’m a woman who lives alone in LA. I’m not going to flingopen the door for anyone who knocks,” she said, fiddling with the tiny straps on her sandals.
“I guess you shouldn’t get used to the way things are in Weldon since you’re going back in a few weeks.” Andheshouldn’t get used to having her so near because it was a little too wonderful.
Would it be like this if he were to move to Los Angeles? Would they make impromptu dinner plans? See each other every day? Not likely with her demanding career, but he would love to have a chance to find out. He wanted to cross his fingers and say a prayer.Please let me get that job.Instead, he scanned the studio apartment, reminding himself to focus on Option Two.
Waist-high, birch bookshelves lined the far corner of the buttercream-colored room. A blue-gray tufted armchair nestled between them, delineating a homey sitting area, which prevented the studio from looking like one big bedroom. The queen-size bed in the opposite corner was neatly made with soft floral-printed sheets, but he averted his eyes too quickly to make out what kind of flowers they were.
Instead, he let his gaze linger on the small kitchenette on the other end of the apartment. With a two-burner stove top, a sink, and a mini-fridge, it was tidy and functional. It reminded him of a play kitchen that Tara used to have when they were kids. He would groan and complain when she asked him to play with her, but he actually loved playing in that toy kitchen.
“Plus, I haven’t been in Weldon long enough to know how things work here,” she said, straightening up.
“True.” He nodded, taking in the woodwork on the armoire and the dresser. “Nice place, by the way.”
