Mason
The next day, I spend all morning on the phone juggling the many moving parts of my relocation process. I’m organizing the logistics with the moving company, setting up a storage unit, and working with the vendors for the restaurant build-out.
Harry and I are meeting with our construction manager for an update on the progress this afternoon.
Leaning back in the office chair and linking my hands behind my head, I enjoy the solitude of the quiet—and the empty hotel room.
The angle of the desk positions me directly in front of a large window. Gazing out and over the mid-morning horizon, a plane emerges from behind the thick cotton-candy-shaped clouds that fill the sky. My focus stays locked on an aircraft as it glides downward, crossing the length of the window, preparing to land not too far away.
I think of Bailey.
I haven’t seen her in years—besides on social media, but she’s not really active and neither am I. Once in a while, I’d get a random update from Harry when we were away on our annualguys’ trip, but it was nothing more than simple small talk. I often found myself craving for additional information about her and what she was up to.
I do, however, remember him telling me that she had gotten pregnant at the end of her senior year. He mentioned that it was her ex-boyfriend and that he was heavily into drugs. I can only imagine that was what ultimately ended their relationship.
As far as I know, there hasn’t been anyone else. I think about her from time to time. She was this feisty little thing, laughed a lot, and was absolutely adorable. Although Bailey and I didn’t always get along, there was something about her that got under my skin. I’ve never been able to put my finger on it. Maybe it was because she was the only girl in college who wasn’t completely infatuated with me.
The funny thing about women, they always want the guys that don’t want them. And that’s mostly who I was—and still am now, if I’m being honest with myself. I slept around a lot and gained a reputation for it rather quickly.
My mind replays the interaction I had with her yesterday and how beautiful she looked all these years later.
I feel the corner of my mouth lift as I catch myself smiling at the thought. Her chocolate, light brown hair was pulled back into a bun with a few loose pieces falling down around her face.
She has always been naturally pretty, wearing minimal makeup around her almond-shaped eyes. Her lips had a light pink tint on them. Most likely from something as simple as ChapStick. I noticed right away that her large eyes brightened during our conversation, which directly deceived the words that she spoke.
All I could think about the entire time she pelted me with sarcastic comments was looping my finger around one of those loose strands and gently tucking it behind her small ear.
I wonder what her hair smells like. If I had to bet, I’d say strawberry. She doesn’t seem like a tropical girl, like coconut or mango. Bailey definitely smells like strawberry or cherry.
My pulse quickens.
I hope I was clear enough that Claire and I are not together. Not that I care if Bailey thinks that Claire and I are together; I just don’t want anyone to think that Claire and I are together. She is not my type.
Bailey is my type.
She has always been my type.
I clear my throat, refocusing on the laundry list of tasks screaming at me from the bright yellow notepad to my right. My phone, laying on the desk to my left, starts buzzing.
“Hey.”
“What’s up, champ!” My dad teases.
“Fuck off, Dad.”
“I’m just kidding.” He laughs. “How’s everything coming along? You got in last night, right?”
Noticing the time, I start shutting my laptop down. “Yes. I did the walkthrough on the condo, so it’s ready for me to move in this weekend. Harry and I are getting a formal report on the restaurant today, and my house so far seems to be moving along as well.” I give him a quick update. Shoving my phone between my ear and shoulder, I stand to pack my computer into my backpack.
“That’s great to hear. Well, you certainly have your plate full. I’m glad I’m retired now because I do not envy that!” he scoffs.
My dad owned a successful insurance brokerage, which was just recently bought out by a bigger company for an obscene amount of money. That buyout gave him and my stepmom the ability to retire at only fifty years old.
Soon after the deal closed, they moved from California and now split their time between Washington during the summerand Arizona during the winter. Yes, my parents are now snowbirds.
“Livin’ the dream.” I deadpan.
“I know, Son. Are you free to have dinner with Terri and me tonight?”
