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When her stomach started to growl, she got up with the intention of scrounging for dinner. On her way to the kitchen she grabbed the pile of mail she’d brought up with her from the store. Today it contained mostly magazines and the occasional bill, but nothing she couldn’t handle.
Until she reached the legal-sized envelope from Santangelo, LLC she knew was yet another overdue rent notice. Soon they’d stop saying “if you don’t, we will” and just set a date for her to have to get the hell out of the store.
Tears spurted into her eyes and she shook them off. No. She was not going to cry. Her plan to save the store was going to work. She just needed a little more time.
Giving in to the urge to wallow, she sat down on the floor and drew her legs up to her chest. And rocked.
She wasn’t down for the count. Nellie had started working with her yesterday, and she’d begun showing her the basics. They’d worked on fall wreaths that afternoon, twisting colorful ribbons into bows, winding delicate blooms and vines through grapevines and around wire frames. Her best friend seemed to have a natural eye, thank God. They’d laughed and laughed as they worked, something Alexa hadn’t realized how much she’d missed.
Losing Patty was a big blow, but with Nellie’s help, Divine would be okay. It wasn’t as if there was a ton to do right now anyway, except the usual orders and inventory and keeping everything tidy. She just needed to keep the faith and not let this temporary black hole suck her in.
After a while, she rose unsteadily to her feet and called Trixie. She gave her cat her daily dose of love and kibble, then sat down on the couch and turned on the TV. She smiled. Dillon had taken it off the dinky stand she had for it and mounted it at the perfect height on the wall without her even having to ask.
Between Dillon and Nellie, kindness seemed to be spilling out all around her lately. Perhaps it was a sign her streak of bad luck was finally going to end. Maybe she needed to go see Sue Ellen, Nellie’s tarot-reading cousin. She could use some guidance. Along with another night with a certain man, who happened to have a sexy grin and incredibly athletic hips.
Ah, screw it. What did she have to lose? Except everything?
Biting her lip, she dialed Dillon’s number. Silly to be nervous. He was just a guy, and she knew how to handle men. Usually. Somehow her typical moves hadn’t resulted in the dance she’d expected this time.
He didn’t answer, so she left him a voice mail. Though she attempted to sound breezy and casual, she was sure she failed. There was that word again. Failure.
The night passed in a haze of junk food and sitcoms. She sat through a couple reruns of The Big Bang Theory and noshed on Twizzlers, since she’d yet to fill her pantry with anything substantial. Halfway through the nightly news, her cell buzzed in her lap. She’d just forgotten to put it back in her purse. It wasn’t as if she’d been waiting all night to hear the sound of Dillon’s voice.
“Alexa?” he murmured once she answered. “Are you okay?”
Oh God. That question, said in such a painfully understanding tone. The already weakening walls in her chest cracked open so fast she had no hope of shoring them up again before a sob escaped.
She couldn’t answer. All that came out were broken gasps as she scrambled to hold back the deluge intent on spurting out of her eyes.
“What is it? What happened?”
He sounded frantic. As if he actually cared. Why should he? He didn’t know her beyond a night of sex—truly incredible sex—and a note-and-flower flirtation. If she needed help, she had no right to expect it from him, when all she had done was dismiss him in her mind as “just a handyman.”
Which was total crap. He wasn’t just anything. There was nothing wrong with being a handyman. It was an honest profession, and she was too bitter and tied up over her own nonsense to even give people a fair shake anymore.
Kind of like the fair shake you refuse to give yourself?
“It’s just been a shitty day. Nothing unusual there,” she laughed bitterly and pressed her fingers to her closed eyes, “until I got the mail and another overdue rent notice. Nothing new there either.” So why was she on the verge of tears again just from telling him?
“I’m coming over,” he said, his voice harder than she’d expected.
“It’s okay, you don’t have to. I’m all—” She couldn’t even get out the protest. How coul
d she, when all she wanted was to spend more time with him?
For a while, she needed to get away from her own brain. Whatever it took. Still, she wasn’t sure if a guy she barely knew qualified as a good person to let herself go with. Mindless sex was one thing. But what if she couldn’t stop the tears and he saw her in her current state of soggy mess? Did she really want to go there?
“I’ll be there in twenty minutes,” he said. Then he released a huff of breath. “Have you eaten?”
She glanced at the candy that had served as her dinner. “Not exactly.”
“I’ll get us something. Anything you hate?”
“Sushi,” she replied, feeling steamrolled but in the best way possible.
“No sushi, got it. See you soon.”
Alexa clicked off and forced herself to straighten up. There wasn’t much mess to begin with, but tidying gave her something to do.
