“Well, the last time I got a special delivery from Farm & Holm, it was the notice for the rent hike. And given your accusations at the diner, I’m not sure it’s legally in my best interest to accept anything from you.”
“Just open the box,” I say. I watch her eyes dart back to it. “You know you want to.”
Georgia pivots and walks behind the counter, toward the box. And past it. She reaches underneath and pulls out a sheaf of papers, which she taps on the counter to square up. Then she marches at me, green eyes blazing defiantly. She takes the sheaf of papers and smacks them into my chest.
“How about I just give you these?” she says.
I look down at her hand, pressed against my chest, and immediately, she withdraws it. The papers flutter to the floor.
“What are those anyway?” I ask.
“All of my designs that your company has copied,” she says, chin out. “And a cease and desist letter.”
“Duly noted.” I make no move to pick them up. Instead, I stick out a foot. “You know, I wore my sneakers to save us from shocking each other this time,” I say.
“You probably wore them in case you had to run,” she challenges.
“I’m not my brother,” I say.
“I could take you.” She takes a step toward me. “You know what they say: The bigger they are, the harder they fall.”
JFC. Things are happening in my pants, and this is not going as planned.
I say, “Open. The. Box.”
“I must admit I’m curious now.” Georgia glances over her shoulder. “But is this a gift box that says ‘I’m super sorry for being a massive dick,’ or is it more like Pandora’s box, filled with anthrax and ancient curses?”
“You’ll never know unless you open it,” I say. She has a point though. It is a bit like the box in the Pandora story. Once that lid is opened, there’s no putting the knowledge back in the box.
“Honestly, I’ve been waiting all day for you to open it, so I’d appreciate it if you’d put me out of my misery. I promise I’ll get lost immediately after, if that’s what you want,” I say.
Her brows raise at that, and she heads back to the counter again.
“And you’ll take that letter seriously?” She pauses, her fingers poised an inch from the end of the bow.
“I will,” I say, “I swear.”
“I’m going to hold you to this, Hudson Holm,” she says. And then she pulls the bow.
georgia
My need toknow what’s in the box does battle with the distraction of being alone in the shop with Hudson Holm. His larger-than-life presence dominates the space. As sexy as he was in cashmere and well-cut pants, I have to admit, he’s even more appealing in sweats, his hair disheveled, and with the spicy shadow of stubble peppering his jaw.
He’s staring at me so intensely that it’s making me feel clumsy. A little giddy. My hands are shaking. I refuse to give him the satisfaction of seeing this though. Leaning forward against the counter, I pull the bow slowly, watching the loops fall away.
For the life of me, I cannot imagine what’s inside. The not-knowing is excruciating. But in a delightful way. It’s not just me. Watching Hudson squirm while I take my sweet time is kind of giving me life.
I tap and flick my fingers slowly on the unopened box, listening for echoes.
“I wonder,” I say hopefully, “if perhaps you’ve brought me the head of your dear brother, Bryce, as a peace offering?” I lift the box to gauge its weight and shake it lightly.
Hudson’s cheek twitches, but his eyes sparkle. He bites his lip.
“There’s no way Bryce’s head would fit in a box that small, Georgia. I think we both know that.”
“I suppose you’re right. Pity though.” Sighing, I sloooooowly open the lid.
There are a number of things in the box, all wrapped in tissue. But sitting at the top is a brand-new iPhone. The newest version, with the biggest screen, the best camera, and the most memory.
