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Me: No reason.
I tipped back in my chair and stared up at the ceiling, considering. I’d been an idiot by not asking Ella to the ball when I’d had her right there in front of me.
My biggest worry with all of this additional effort was that even with the blanket email invitation, Ella would still stay away. Texting her would make things too easy for her to turn me down again.
If I asked her myself, though… In person, she might consider giving me a chance after all.
Four a.m. was painfully early.
But if that was what it took, I’d give it a shot.
FOURTEEN
ella
I dragged my feet.Three-thirty a.m. came too soon on a summer day, but add snow, below-zero temperatures, and wind chill? With my apartment’s radiator on the fritz in the early morning hours, I was just plain cold.
I blew warm air onto my hands and crept quietly through the apartment. Though I had to get up this early, Chloe didn’t.
Fortunately, she was such a heavy sleeper; she usually didn’t notice the floor creaks or the accidental cupboard door slams as I retrieved my daily protein bar and banana breakfast.
Solitude in these early morning hours was a catalyst for deep thinking and personal reflection. Maybe it was the darkness; maybe it was the stillness of being alone; maybe it was the lonely ache in my heart, but for whatever reason, I thought about Hawk.
Seeing him in the elevator yesterday, seeing him slightlyunraveled and less than perfect, altered my perspective of him.
During our trip to Montana, he’d been so cocky, so obnoxiously confident and certain he could get what he wanted. It’d gotten my back up.
But in that elevator, seeing his difficulty with tight spaces, he’d relaxed his hold on that persona.
He’d let me see who he really was.
Hawk Danielson might be a billionaire, but he was also a person. He’d been authentic and kind.
Something had shifted between us—and the notion had scared me so much that when he offered to see me again, I’d panicked and defaulted.
How could I have said yes?
Why hadn’t I said yes?
I shook myself as I bundled up and stepped outside. It was done and over with. There was nothing I could do about it now.
Westville was beautiful, I’d give the town that much. The slow-rising fog, the white hush in the air, the smell of crisp stark cold. I took a moment to breathe it in and bask in the icicles tipping every tree before I scuttled to my car.
The drive to Ever After Corporate took about ten minutes, which was the perfect amount of time for my car to warm up just for me to shut it off again. I mused over the prospect of cleaning, vacuuming, scrubbing toilets, or whatever sundry tasks Stina had in store for me that day.
The quicker I went and worked, the quicker it would be over, Isupposed.
The contrast of white snow against the morning’s blackness was a stunning duality. The snow plow was in the parking lot, its lights casting yellow beams.
I parked in the employee section, which had fortunately been cleared already, and dashed through the dark toward the large building’s back entrance.
A man stepped out from the shadows. His hands were buried in his coat pockets, his nose was bent toward his collar, and he startled me so much I lifted my bag and whacked him as hard as I could with it.
“Ow, hey,” he said, lifting an arm.
Where was pepper spray when I needed it?
I turned heel and bolted for my car—only to find a patch of ice.
