AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I meant to arrive earlier, but I got caught up with some work emails. Including one from a colleague who says there’s probably going to be a quick job offer coming my way from a newspaper in London, one highly coveted by freelancers, and who only just started calling me about jobs directly. It’s a stateside assignment, just a few days, and technically, I could take it before I head out to my long assignment in Borneo, Indonesia, tracking rallies leading up to a heated local election next year.
But that would mean leaving earlier than I planned. Normally, I’d turn it down. People drop everything to work for them, myself included. Their photographers win Pulitzers. Except I already turned them down to do this assignment. If I say no again, they might not call again. I hinted to my friend that I probably wouldn’t be able to take the job. Hopefully he passes it on before they offer it to me.
Seeing Cora now, I know I made the right decision. I go slow, so I get to soak her in before she sees me. If it weren’t creepy, I’d stop to stare, to try to memorize every detail.
Her hair is up in a high ponytail that swings as she turns her head, peering around the corner of the building. So does the skirt of her yellow sundress. And those shoes—I can’t remember what they’re called but the soles look like rope, and the straps go up her calves like a ballerina slipper, and she looks so fucking pretty my chest hurts.
“Hey,” she says when she sees me. Her smile is wide and beautiful, and makes me think of her back when she was just Sam’s kid sister. She’s so different from the girl I knew all those years ago. But there are glimpses of her that haven’t changed, too. Her easy smile. The way she uses the word love all the time, like it’s not a thing that’s supposed to hurt. Like it’s a perfectly normal okay thing to want and have.
“Hey Cora.”
Espadrilles. That’s what those shoes are called. I only know because of the fashion photographer I dated last year. I learned much more about shoes than I ever wanted to over the six-week span of that relationship—the longest in years.
Of course I don’t say any of this, settling on “You look nice.”
She looks like sunshine, is what she looks like. A ray of light come down to earth, bottled in a beautiful girl.
Cora smiles again, sending a rush of warmth on that sunbeam straight through my chest.
“I probably should have worn something more practical,” she says as we start walking. “But I did an extra shift at Rivergreen today and didn’t have time to go home.”
“You have a second job?” A slip of relief runs through me at that, making me realize part of the tenseness in my shoulders has been worry that I’m going to get her fired.
“Oh no. I go there for fun.”
So much for that. Then I pause. “Wait, still?”
She laughs. “I’m their longest standing volunteer. I got a badge for it and everything.”
“A badge!” I raise an eyebrow. “Impressive.”
“Thank you.”
“You ever think about getting a job there?”
She shakes her head decisively. “Nope. It’s strictly for fun.”
I smile. Other people talk about visiting their grandparents like it’s a chore.
The scent of her shampoo wafts toward me on the breeze. It smells like flowers. Bright, sunny, happy flowers. Just like her. My chest seizes once more. “So how did you end up working here?” I ask, as if that will squash the feeling. “I thought you wanted to be a wedding organizer?”
Cora glances up, meeting my eye.
“Wedding planner,” she says, with a smile. “I’m surprised you remembered.”
She’s only a couple inches shorter than me. The perfect height to kiss.
Fucking stop it!
“You were always into that stuff,” I say stiffly.
She nods, eyes forward again. “I did it, for a while. I took the program at Greenville College and joined a boutique company in Greenville. I only lasted a couple years though.”
“Why?”
“It wasn’t quite what I thought it would be. It’s not enough to love weddings; you have to love doing all the other stuff that goes with it. And you have to deal with people who think a wedding is more important than the actual marriage. It kind of took the fun out of love, honestly.”
A pink blush darkens her cheeks. “I don’t know if that makes sense to you—”
