Page 83 of I Saw You First

“The Loves of Lord Granton.” I read the title aloud and laugh. “Thank you. I can’t wait to read it. You know, Lord Granton looks a little like you, Wil.”

“I thought so, too,” he says. “I had to get it for you.”

I lean over and kiss his cheek, but he tugs me closer and presses his lips to mine. For a moment, I lose myself in it, but then I pull away.

“Thank you for bringing me flowers and food and the book,” I say, “but you need to leave. You don’t want to get this. Trust me.”

He furrows his brow, like he might argue with me, but then he stands, leans over me, and kisses the top of my head. “Lie down,” he says, and after I stretch out on the sofa, he covers me with the plaid blanket. “Promise me you’ll eat.”

“I promise.”

My eyes flutter shut and I listen as Wil sets the food containers in the fridge, heats water in the teakettle, and rummages in the cabinet for tea bags. Finally, after setting a steaming cup on the coffee table, he kisses the top of my head again and whispers, “Feel better.”

Later, I wake groggy and hungry. I realize I haven’t read the note in the bouquet. The card matches the pale blue of the flowers perfectly. On one side is a gold embossed logo and the words Fieldstone at The Galleria—an exquisite floral experience. On the other side, Wil wrote, Because you can’t buy yourself flowers this week. Wil

Oh, he remembered. I read the card again, press my finger to ink. An exquisite floral experience… I’ve seen that before. The bouquet that arrived at work the day after Christmas, which is drying upside down on a hanger in my closet. Wil sent them. My heart stutters. I crawl into bed with The Loves of Lord Granton, and later, dream of Wil in a white cravat and black tailcoat.

TWENTY-THREE

“NOVOCAINE FOR THE SOUL” BY EELS, 1996

WIL

Abbey misses another day of work. I’ve been so worried about her, so it was good to see her with my own eyes yesterday. I admit, when Jeremy told me she’d called in sick that first day, a very small part of me wondered if she was playing hooky for an interview. But she looked like death warmed over, as Mimi would say, and I hate to say it, but I was glad for the reassurance.

New Year’s Eve with Abbey was everything. Sometimes, I’ll be in the middle of a conversation with Jimmy or Sam, and I’ll find myself thinking about that dress and her skin and her moans and I’ll need to shake myself out of it. I want to be with her. Even yesterday, when she looked so pale and wrung out, I wanted to stretch her body out beneath me, press my weight into her, make her whimper.

Jesus, I’ve got it bad. It’s not long now until I can move to my AGM spot—although because I want to be the GM of Woodlake, she’ll have to leave, eventually, too.

But not yet. I still need her here. I need her to stay, and it’s not only because I need a strong media TC.

“Wil, call parked on five-four.” Sam’s voice comes over the store intercom. “Jaws, five-four.”

I take the call at the media desk. “This is Wil.”

“Hey, it’s Cam. How are you?”

Cam’s the GM at Cedar Rapids. He worked his way through the AGM rotation here in the Twin Cities before moving to Iowa.

“You survive the holidays down there?” I ask.

“Yeah, it was brutal, but we made it. You hear that Ford’s leaving Hometown to sell cars?”

Ford’s the AGM at Ridgehill. He’s only got a few weeks left of his rotation, but like I told Abbey, not everybody makes it. “Wow. I wasn’t expecting that.”

“He said he couldn’t take another holiday. You guys blew everybody out of the water, though, huh?”

I huff out a laugh. “Wasn’t easy.”

“Speaking of, I wanted to touch base with you about your media TC.”

My eyes widen. “What about her?”

“I’m sure you know she applied for the merch manager spot here.”

My stomach drops. I was, only moments ago, thinking that Abbey would have to leave the store eventually. But I had no idea that she’d widen her net and apply to Hometown stores outside of the Twin Cities.

I don’t like it, but I’m in no position to hold her back.