That night I went home on time, not staying in the office late for once, because I finally had a name, a means of finding out more about her.
June Taylor. Fifth-grade teacher at Seaside Elementary.
Went to a state school on a full-ride scholarship.
Won the senior art fair in high school with the most incredible self-portrait I’ve ever seen. There was a smiling picture in the town paper of her beside it, and like the creep I am, I downloaded it. I’ve stared at it more than I would like to admit since that day. If it wouldn’t have tipped me into stalker territory, I would have printed and framed it, but thankfully, I’m not that far gone.
Yet.
Unfortunately, having her name didn’t ease my obsession. It only fueled it. I spent the entire weekend trying to find outanything and everything I could about her, and each new snippet made me more interested, more enamored with the woman.
Then, in another stroke of fate, we found each other once more, the night before she was to start working for me. Try as I might, I couldn’t find it in me to be responsible, to walk away, or, at the very least, to tell her she would be my new assistant.
I’d convinced myself that one night would get her out of my system, cure me of this incessant need to learn more about her.
I was wrong. So terribly wrong, because when I woke up the next morning, my body cocooned around her warm one, I knew I would never wake happier ever again.
I also know there was no universe where I could have her.
Even if we weren’t complete opposites, wanting different things from life, even if she didn’t deserve someone just as sunny and bright as her, I’d tricked her. I’d lied by omission, and things like that never stay hidden for long. The mere thought of seeing that betrayal written on her face was enough to take my secret to the grave.
It’s why I set the tone that very first day, acting rude and cold and putting a wall between us.
Even then, I knew in my bones if I let it happen, June Taylor would become my everything in a way I couldn’t undo.
I thought being a broody asshole would push her away. A bright, beautiful speck of sunshine like her surely wouldn’t want to deal with an asshole who brushed her off, who threw away her attempts at kindness and friendship, but what I didn’t understand in my weekend of stalking her was that June Taylor is the most stubborn person I’ve ever encountered. She didn’t see my brush-off as a warning; she saw it as a challenge.
My need to make magic happen for her didn’t end with getting her a job.
No, it was simply the start. On her first day, I’d gone to Seaside Coffee early, getting two dozen donuts, including fourchocolate frosted with sprinkles. I told myself it had nothing to do with it being her first day, and when that assurance felt hollow, I told myself it would be the first and last time.
Even then, everything I was doing was to make June happy.
I was making my coffee and pretending I wasn’t watching when she spotted them. That was when I realized the happy little smile that plays on her lips when a stroke of luck happens wasn’t a fluke, something that only happened because she was excited to win a lottery ticket. She didn’t jump that time, didn’t squeal or cheer, but the light was there, a light that, despite her constant chipper attitude, isn’t always shining.
I think that was the moment I fell, the moment there was no coming back from.
After, all I wanted to do was make all of her wishes come true.
That’s why I kept going to Seaside Coffee and selling them out of chocolate-frosted donuts with sprinkles so I could make sure she has one in the break room.
That’s why I found her earring and placed it where she would find it.
It’s why I spent hours searching for four-leaf clovers, digging them up, and replanting them where she sometimes sits along the side of the building.
That’s why I found and invested in the company that makes the coffee syrup she likes, so they’d make it year-round.
I bought her first art piece, not just because it was stunning and I wanted a piece of her forever, even after I’ve left this small town, but because I wanted her to believe the universe was pushing her toward building that dream.
And it’s why I’m trying to win her concert tickets.
I want June to have all the luck in the world, even if I have to manufacture it.
TWENTY-TWO
“I can’t believe how quickly this place went from a construction zone to a full-blown resort,” June says as we walk around the deck area on Tuesday. This morning, the GM and a few other employees came in for onboarding and paperwork with June before she put them to work cleaning up and setting up parts of the resort. They’ll be in each day until opening, putting the finishing touches on before opening day next week. While we originally hoped to be open for the Fourth of July weekend, the construction and permitting delays mean we’re looking at the Friday after.
It’s strange, having people other than just June here, and if I’m being honest, I already miss the peace and intimacy of just the two of us.
