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In the mirror, I can see my chest is still flushed from his lips and hands. The curse of fair skin. He sees it and smirks before turning, dropping his towel, and walking into his closet to get dressed. My eyes bug out before I catch myself and hop to it. Corporate America awaits!
After slipping into a navy pencil skirt and white blouse, I head into the kitchen and whip up some scrambled eggs for us. They’re plated beside slices of melon and I garnish them with a sprig of some kind of leafy green I found inside one of the refrigerator drawers. Derek raises his brows when he joins me, impressed by my domestic abilities right up until he takes the first bite.
“That’s mint,” he says, drawing a half-chewed sprig from between his teeth.
Oops.
“This is how eggs are served in France,” I assure him before slyly pushing all the mint off my eggs and onto the side of my plate.
After one more half-attempt at eating the remainder of our breakfast, I say, “Should we just—”
“Yup,” he says, scooting back his chair so we can grab our things and fly out the door.
Derek’s new office is close to mine—on the second story of Castle Drive as well—but he sits on the corner and has expansive views of the park. Last week, I stood at the window of Cal’s penthouse and called him.
“Can you see me waving?”
“No.”
I swept my hands over my head, really putting some energy into it. “Now?”
“No.”
I jumped up and down. “Now!?”
He laughed. “I saw you the first time.”
I hung up on him.
“What time do you think you’ll be done today?” I ask him as we stroll into the park, hand in hand. The air is brisk. His hand is warm around mine. It’s still an hour before Fairytale Kingdom opens, and Castle Drive is all but empty except for a few employees bustling around. They tip their heads to us or wave as we pass.
“I have a meeting that might run a little late, but I should be home by 7. Don’t forget we have poker tonight.”
How could I forget?
Carrie and I have been preparing ever since Thomas and Derek first invited us. All week, during lunch, we’ve joined online poker games, laughing at our immature screen names. Oddly enough, BuffDude23 and 69Holdem69 blend right in. We only lose most of the time, and though Carrie suggests we give up and just teach ourselves to cheat—Here, try to stuff this ace down your bra—I suggest we just use good ol’ fashioned distraction methods. I already have the perfect shade of lipstick picked out. Derek won’t know what hit him.
At the door to the coffee shop, Derek ushers me in so we can grab breakfast, and like it always does, my gaze sweeps to our old table, the one Derek used to occupy while he waited for me to arrive for our mentorship meetings. I can almost see him sitting there now, head down, brows furrowed in concentration, attention on his notebook while he waits for me to arrive. My heart falls back on old memories. I feel a pang of residual gut-clenching longing, as if I’m still standing in this spot, eight years younger, desperate for that old version of Derek to look up and notice me.
Now, he squeezes my shoulder, unaware of my thoughts.
I look up and he smiles like this is nothing—just another day of us being together—but I don’t take it for granted. Not for a single second.
Derek ushers me toward the counter to order, his hand still on my shoulder.
“The usual?” the barista asks us, already in motion to make our drinks.
“The usual,” we say in tandem.EpilogueWhitneyTen years later“MOM. Katherine stole my Sugar Babies!”
“No I didn’t! We traded!” Katherine protests with conviction. “I gave her Dots!”
I’m inclined to call Katherine out on this gross act of injustice since Dots are at the bottom of the candy totem pole and we all know it. Instead, I hold up my hands as if this issue is out of my jurisdiction. “Girls, work it out.”
Mom is off duty. Halloween night is officially over. We’ve returned from trick-or-treating inside the park and the annual candy dump-and-sort has commenced on the floor of the penthouse living room. If I attempt to leave my post at the window, there’s a good chance I’ll step on something gooey and half-melted, so I stay put.
Annie locks eyes with her sister, shooting her the toughest grimace she can manage while dressed up as a pink woodland fairy—an exact replica of her favorite character from the Enchanted Forest. Her Aunt Carrie made the costume for her and she looks ridiculously cute in it, but I don’t think that’s the effect she’s going for at the moment while she and her sister have this very serious life-and-death standoff.
