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Chapter Twenty-Nine
Harper
After leaving the store, I find myself wandering through the trail on the edge of town that leads to the falls. Rockland Falls, the very waterfall our town was named after. I’ve always loved it here, with its breathtaking view, lush green plants, and fragrant scent of the outdoors. It’s one of the things I missed the most while I was in New York.
After firing off a text to Free, letting her know I was going to be a little bit and I was fine, I take some time to sit, watching the water beat against the rocks before smoothing out to the stream, and reflect on everything that’s happened. Seeing Felicity in my shop, hearing her talk about her date tonight with Latham just pushed me over the edge. It was a blatant reminder things don’t always work out the way you plan.
Me? I started to plan a future. One with the sexy closet computer geek next door, who runs his family’s hardware store with the singular goal of turning around a struggling business. I never heard that from Latham, but from Mr. Douglas. Not too long before he announced his retirement, he mentioned business was down. Everyone would rather drive a half hour away to a larger city to shop at a big box chain store just to save a few dollars. I understand it, really I do, but it still sucks balls.
Then, Latham stepped in, bringing with him ideas and dreams of expansion. More space means more product. More product means more consumers, a bigger draw of customers. That part I understand. I get why he needed the building. As hard as it is to admit, I think their business needed it more than my own, and in a way (not that I’ll ever admit it aloud), I’m glad they won, and I pray it all works out for them in the end.
The part I don’t get is the lies. He didn’t need to sleep with me to get information. Hell, he never asked for it. What could he have possibly gained by sleeping with me, if all he wanted was information?
As I gaze up at the cascading waterfall, the light bulb goes on.
He didn’t need to.
He didn’t sleep with me for information or to get the building.
He slept with me for me.
Then why the hell didn’t he say that? When I asked him, he never spoke a word. He never told me I was way off base, never told me to shut up and listen to him, never told me to stop with my crazy nonsense.
He kept quiet.
Probably because I wouldn’t let him speak, and he tried.
I sigh deeply, wondering how in the hell I’m going to get out of this heart aching mess I’m in. Maybe I should stop by, give him a chance to come clean. Even if he tells me he really did screw me for the wrong reasons, at least I’d know and I could move on, instead of being trapped in this perpetual state of limbo.
Checking my phone one last time, I hop off the rock I’m perched on and set out for the walk back to work. Thank God I wore somewhat comfortable sandals today. No, they’re definitely not hiking appropriate, but at least I won’t have huge blisters on my feet like most of my other shoes.
By the time I make it back, Free’s already gone and the store locked up tight. She took care of everything for me, including closing out the receipts and backing up the laptop, dropping off the deposit in the slot next door, and tidying up the mess I made when I was pricing the new pajamas. I head over to where they all sit on the counter and find my size. They’re made from a thin, breathable cotton you’ll probably be able to see through, but that’s okay. In the heat of summer, sometimes wearing just the thinnest layer of material is the best way to sleep.
Knowing I have several hours of inventory to complete, I head to the back and decide to get comfortable. I throw my long hair up in a high ponytail and strip off my work clothes. Underneath, I’m wearing a basic white cotton bra and matching white cotton boy cut panties. I didn’t even have the energy to put on anything pretty this morning. It was all about the comfort.
Ripping off my bra, I slide the tank top over my head. I opt to keep the panties on as I pull the shorts up my legs and tie the drawstring around my waist. I glance over at the mirror and can’t help but smile. Sure, the reason I bought these pajamas is because of the soft material and super amazing comfort value, but that’s not the only reason. Written across the black tank top in a rainbow of colors are the words Kiss Me Goodnight. It was fate when I saw them in the online catalog, and at a discount to boot, considering we’re already approaching the end of the summer shopping season.
After getting into the appropriate ‘ready for inventory’ outfit, I head to the mini fridge for a bottle of water. When I open the fridge, I spy a new container with a note attached.
In case you get hungry later. Love, Kitty
My eyes well up with tears as I think about the woman I’ve come to care a great deal for. I wonder if she knows how stupid her son is, or if she has yet to find out we’re not…together anymore. Not that we were anything official before, but we’re definitely not anything now.
Popping the lid off, I slip it in the microwave and set it for one minute. Instantly, the scent of deliciousness starts to fill the room, making my stomach growl angrily, and reminding me I missed lunch. It’s after four, so I guess technically, this is an early dinner.
I shove the first bite of chicken and broccoli casserole into my mouth, moaning with absolute pleasure as it explodes against my tongue. There’s cheese too in her dish, and before I know it, I’ve shoveled the entire thing into my face as if it were an eating competition. As I take a quick drink of water, I make a mental note to send Kitty a thank you for the food. Then, I turn on my favorite boy band playlist and get to work.
Inventory is busy work, plain and simple. It probably doesn’t need to be completed quarterly, as I’ve always done it, but you’d be surprised how many pairs of nice panties get up and walk away.
By eight in the evening, Free sends me a text.
Free: You still alive? You haven’t hung yourself with a lace bra, have you?
Me: Why would I waste something so pretty on something so horrible?
Free: I was joking. I don’t think you’d actually do something like that. I just wanted to make sure you’re actually counting thongs and not sitting on the floor, surrounded by pretty things, and eating a tub of chocolate mint ice cream.
Me: Never! I don’t even like chocolate mint.
