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I drop into the chair and squeeze my eyes shut, wishing I could rewind about thirty seconds.

“London, hello. How are you?” Genuine concern laces his words with soft comfort.

“I’m good. The flowers were very thoughtful. Thank you.” It comes out choppy and awkward.

“I’m glad to hear that. I know you mentioned that you take today off and spend it with your sisters. I wasn’t sure what that would look like, but I wanted to send you all something.”

That he remembers seems significant, but at the same time, he’s lost his parents too. So he knows exactly what it’s like to be where I am today. “It was very kind of you. The flowers are stunning.”

“It was nothing, really. I know these days can be difficult.”

“They can, but thoughtful gifts like these make it better.” I bite my tongue, trying to swallow down the apology for asking him out last week and making things tense. It doesn’t work, though. “About last week, I’m so sorry I made things awkward.”

“You don’t need to apologize, London. With us working on the charity event together, I feel it’s important to keep things strictly business, otherwise it can get complicated.”

“Of course. I totally understand.” I close my eyes, glad he can’t see my red face.

“I have a meeting I have to be in, but I’ll be in contact again soon. I hope you and your sisters are able to enjoy the day with each other.”

I thank him again and end the call.

I have no idea how to take his response. Does that mean he wanted to say yes, or is that him being nice again?

All I know is that I’m more confused than I was before.

9

JUST ANOTHER SMALL ADVENTURE

LONDON

Over the course of the week, I email back and forth with Mitchell about the event, and I continue to update the shared Google Doc. Occasionally Jackson and I are both in the doc at the same time. I always wait for him to initiate a chat, which most times he does, and I can’t get a read on him. Sometimes it is strictly business and other times he’s asking me about how my week has been going.

It’s Saturday, and I’m awake at five a.m. It really doesn’t matter what day of the week it is, because I rarely, if ever sleep in. Instead, I’m in bed working, not so casually checking our Google Doc to see if Jackson is also up.

Two hours later, my phone rings. I nab it off my nightstand and answer without checking the caller ID. “Hello?”

“Good morning, London.” The deep, low timbre is unexpected.

I pull the phone away from my ear and check the screen. Yup, I’m not imagining things. “Hi, Jackson. Is everything okay?” I can’t think of many reasons for him to call me on a Saturday morning.

“Everything is fine. I realize it’s early, but I saw that you were in the Google Doc not long ago and figured I would chance giving you a call.”

“Ah. Okay. Is it about the event?”

“Yes and no. I, uh … I’m in Colorado Springs and I wondered if you were available this morning.”

“Available? For what?” My stomach flips.

“There’s an estate sale outside of Woodland Park, and I noticed that you had it marked on the calendar you shared with Mitchell. If we left in the next hour, I could have you back to Spark House by noon, one at the very latest. Would that work for you?”

It takes me a few moments to process everything he’s just thrown at me. “You want to take me to an estate sale?” I shut down the part of my brain that wants to call this a date.

“I felt it would be a good opportunity to discuss the event and do something you enjoy at the same time. I appreciate everything you’ve been doing for Holt Media.”

I pull up my calendar. “I thought the estate sale wasn’t until tomorrow.”

“It isn’t, but I made a call and was able to procure early access. That’s if you’d like to go.”

Our event isn’t until this evening, and we finished most of the setup last night. I could definitely make this work as long as I’m back around lunchtime. “I would like to go.”

“Excellent. Now my next question is, how soon can you be ready?”

I roll out of bed and check my reflection in my dresser mirror, cringing at the state of my hair. “Uh.” I flick on the bedroom light so I can get a better look. I washed my hair yesterday, so it should be fine until tomorrow. “It shouldn’t take me too long. Do you want to meet me at Spark House?” It’s a little closer to Woodland Park.

Jackson clears his throat. “Well, that would be unnecessary since I’m very close to your building.”

“Close to my building?” Great. I’m parroting him again.

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