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You have no idea how good it feels to see you happy.
Your smile is as beautiful as you are.
—R
My throat catches and I lift my head, looking around. When my gaze collides with Ryder’s, everything else seems to stop and it just becomes the two of us. So much is communicated in that one look. Stuff we’d never say out loud.
I refold the note and put it back in my purse along with the others.
I find him again as I go to leave and I lift my hand to wave. He tips his head at me, and it’s enough, enough for now, because it’s all I can have.
A mysterious number flashes on my phone. I glance at my computer and the emails I’ve been answering. It’s more than likely a client calling to discuss an event more in depth, so I answer.
“Hello?”
“Hi, is this Blaire?”
“Yes, may I ask who’s calling?”
“Hi,” she says again, “it’s Ivy from Group. I got your number from Ryder. I hope that’s okay.”
“Yeah, yeah, of course.” I wave my hand dismissively as if she can see me. “What can I help you with?”
“I don’t really know.” She laughs nervously. “Maybe it was the crane thing or I don’t know …” she trails off. “I thought maybe we could get coffee and talk?” she asks. “I completely understand if you don’t want to. I’m pra
ctically a stranger to you, but we have similar situations and I … I need someone to talk to. Someone that won’t treat me like broken glass.” She grows quiet then.
“Um, sure,” I say, flabbergasted by her request. “When are you thinking?”
“I’m busy with work all week,” she says, “but I was thinking Friday before Group?”
“Uh … let me check my schedule.” I flip through my planner, making sure I don’t have a meeting that day. “Yeah, I’m free. Does four o’ clock sound okay?” I ask, poising a pen above my planner pages.
“That’ll be perfect.” She breathes a sigh of relief. “Thank you, Blaire. See you then.”
“Mhm, bye.” I hang up and set my phone on my desk. I make a note in my planner so I don’t forget.
My mom knocks on my office door and I look up. “I hope I’m not disturbing you.”
“I’m working,” I say, motioning to my computer and suppressing a laugh.
“Right,” she says, and looks a bit ashamed. “Anyway, I wanted to let you know that your dad and I are going out to dinner. We can bring you back something, if you like.”
I raise a brow and look at her over the top of my computer. “Do you spend ninety percent of your day thinking about what and when I’m going to eat?”
“Yes, and I spend the other ten percent wondering when you’ll shower,” she quips.
“Ha, ha, ha,” I intone, trying not to smile. “You know what I like so just get me whatever.” I wave a hand dismissively.
“Okay.” She eases out the door. “And Blaire?” She pauses, looking unsure.
“What?” I lean around my computer to see her better.
“You look better,” she says softly, like she’s afraid those words might set me off. “Happier.” She shrugs. “It’s nice to see that.”
“Thanks.” I nod. “When you guys get back I’ll have to tell you about something I’m starting.”
She leans forward curiously, but doesn’t press me to answer. After a moment, she turns to leave, and I hear them head out a few minutes later.
