The words hit somewhere I’ve been trying to protect. Four words that shouldn’t matter. Four words from a man I’ve been trying not to think about all day.
He missed me.
Like I’m someone worth missing. Like my absence left a hole. And I know exactly what it cost him to say that. I shove my phone in a drawer and get back to work.
Margot shows up around three, because apparently the Sorrowville gossip network operates at the speed of light.
“I heard you’re becoming a beauty mogul.” She drops into the waiting area, legs crossed, expression somewhere between impressed and suspicious. “Care to elaborate?”
“News travels fast.”
“Linda overheard you on the phone. She told Ida. Ida told everyone.” Margot shrugs. “You know how this works.”
I do know how this works. I just forgot, briefly, that nothing in this town stays private for more than fifteen minutes.
“It’s a brand partnership.” I keep organizing the products I’ve already organized twice. “Luxe Beauty. They want to do a collaboration.”
“And you said yes.”
“Of course I said yes. It’s an incredible opportunity.”
“Mm-hmm.” Her tone says she’s hearing more than I’m saying. “And this has nothing to do with the man you’ve been attached to at the hip for the past two weeks?”
“I’m not hiding. I’m—”
“Hiding.” She cuts me off without apology. “I’ve known you for fifteen years, Gisele. I know how you look when you’re excited about an opportunity, and I know how you look when you’re running from something. Right now, you’re doing both.”
“I slept with him.” The confession bursts out before I can stop it. “Two and half times. And now I don’t know how to be normal around him.”
Margot doesn’t look surprised. Just waits.
“He makes me want things I can’t have. Things that don’t fit into what I’ve built here.”
“Like what?”
“Like someone who stays.”
The accuracy of the assessment makes me want to scream.
“It’s complicated,” I finally say.
“It’s always complicated.” She reaches over, stills my restless hands with her own. “But avoiding him isn’t going to make it less complicated. It’s just going to make it messier when you finally have to deal with it.”
“I’m not ready to deal with it.”
“Then tell him that.” She squeezes my fingers once before releasing them. But I won’t. We both know I won’t. Because saying “I need space” requires admitting why, and I’m not ready to hand him that power. “He’s a big boy. He can handle ‘I needspace’ if you actually say the words instead of just disappearing into your work and hoping he figures it out.”
She’s right. Of course she’s right. Margot is always right about the things I don’t want to hear.
“I’ll text him,” I say.
“Good.” She grabs her bag, heads for the door. “Now tell me more about this brand deal. I want details, and I want them with wine, and I want them tonight.”
“I have appointments until seven.”
“Then I’ll be here at seven-fifteen.” She waves over her shoulder. “Congratulations, by the way. This really is incredible.”
The door closes behind her, and I’m alone with my lists and my half-organized displays and the phone in the drawer that I still haven’t answered.
