That would have totally been the plan before I saw my drop-dead gorgeous neighbor last night. I don’t know how they have lived here for three months, and that was the first time I really saw her.
And, yes, I am well aware that she is married. Shoot me or whatever. I don’t usually take a second glance at married women. I’m not a big fan of sharing, as it always gets a bit too messy and I’m a jealous bitch. Never really been my scene.
But I would have to be the dumbest woman in the world to ignore her like I never saw her. Impossible really. In all honesty, I am just being the kind and civil neighbor to a coincidentally beautiful brunette.
Which is, the same reasoning behind me wearing tight jeans and a long-sleeved V-neck, curling my hair, and wearing a light smoky eye even though I work from home almost every day.
I stare out one of my kitchen windows, waiting for the cookies to cool.
Usually, I am very good with my words. After all, I’m a lawyer. I have literally been trained on how to use words to manipulate perception. And I know what I want to say, but that tends to be exactly what you shouldn’t say.
The one part of this plan that I haven’t quite thought through is the husband. Will he be the one answering the door? Because then I will, of course, hand him the cookies and leave without even seeing her. And that would completely defeat the whole purpose of Operation Cookie. To meet her officially one on one.
It must be a Christmas miracle. Because the lucky husband is walking out of the house with a rather large amount of luggage—four large suitcases, to be exact. It’s quite impressive, watching him wheel them out together, with two handles in each hand.
My heart sinks. No way. Oh my God, tell me that I am not watching them leave for vacay right now, minutes away from walking over there.
My eyes are completely glued on their front door as I anxiously anticipate for her to open it with her own suitcases.
By the time the guy loads his suitcases in the back of the black Audi SUV in the driveway, the front door has yet to move. The guy walks to the driver’s side and gets in without a glance back at the house. Then, he gets in the car, pulls out of the driveway, and leaves—withouther.
My heart begins racing knowing that I’ll have her all to myself. I don’t give a shit if these cookies are cooled off enough. I can’t wait another minute after that Christmas miracle.
Grabbing a spatula, I quickly pack up the still-slightly-warm cookies into the holiday-themed cookie tin.
It is time for Mission Cookie.
I slip my phone into my back pocket and grab the tin, opting out of a jacket and real shoes, aside from my fuzzy cream slippers. Because if I want this conversation to last longer than three seconds of weird, awkward small talk, then I need to give her a reason to invite me in. Me shivering and shaking from the cold should do the trick.
“Muffin, hold the place down. I’ll be back in a bit for dinner.”
She looks at me with her cute, big eyes. I love her so much.
Bracing myself for the cold, I turn the handle on my front door and pull it open.Holy shit.
Autopilot kicks in, driving me out the door, and I slam it behind me.
“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit,” I mumble to myself as I begin to speed-walk, almost sprinting the quick forty feet to her front door.
Thank God the sidewalks aren’t icy or I would be on my ass.
“Almost there, almost there,” I encourage myself as my freezing breath pours out of my mouth.
Approaching the steps up to her front door, I shuffle the tin of cookies to my left hand and tuck it against my body.
Taking a deep breath, I ring the doorbell and listen to it echo throughout the house, feeling my heart suddenly beating faster with every passing second.
Okay, she canhurryup. Any second now. I think I’m starting to freeze to death.
Bouncing up and down on the balls of my feet, I see someone walk up to the door through the frosted windows.
She undoes the lock and pulls the door open. Holy mother of baby Jesus, she is an angel.
She smiles and says with a voice as smooth and sweet as caramel, “Hi. I saw you last night. I’ve been meaning to stop by, but the time seemed to get away from me. I’m Kat Cl-.”
She cuts off finishing what I assume is her last name. Smiling back at her, I’m still a bit in shock at how beautiful she is up close. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Noelle.” I offer the tin of cookies to her. “I brought these for you.”
She glances down at the tin as if I were holding a puppy for her. Like it’s the greatest gift she’s ever received.
