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My stomach sinks like a rock to the bottom of a lake. Trying to ignore it, I open up the bag she sent for Murphy to see if she gave him a bowl or if I need to find one for him to eat out of.
When I open the bag, pink cellophane glints in the light. A small package of tea bags and what looks to be biscotti greets me, with an envelope labeledSunshinein elegant script attached to it by way of curly red ribbon.
Dear Sunshine,
Thank you for taking care of Murphy tonight, and for taking care of me last night too. It’s not easy for me to open up to others, but you’re helping me with that whether you’ve realized it or not. I’m happy you moved in next door. You’re way better than Darren (though I guess it’s not his fault he can’t have chocolate, but he could have told me in a nicer way). Anyway, you’re a good friend and I’m grateful to have met you.
Happy Valentine’s Day,
Juliette
Nerves skate down my spine. Not from the letter though. No, it’s the wide smile I feel on my lips that makes my anxiety flare. I shouldn’t be smiling so much over a little gift like this, but here I am, grinning like a fool at the letter in my hands. At least no one but Murphy is here to see it.
After an hour and a half of cleaning my already clean house and trying not to picture Juliette giggling next to another man, I set Murphy’s bowl down to feed him. Once he’s happily crunching the food Juliette left for him, my phone starts to buzz on my kitchen counter.
Grayson’s name and face light up my screen, making me frown. It’s Valentine’s Day, Grayson should be out eating fondue with some random woman he met, not calling me. I answer the call, worry pricking at my conscience.
“Hello brother dearest,” he says in a way that sounds like he’s pulling a prank on me.
“What?” I bark out, not wanting to deal with his games. He tortured me enough through the group text. Plus, I’m already going to spend most of my evening worrying about Juliette–even if she did text me that she was safe and sound at the hotel–I don’t need to add Grayson’s antics into the mix.
“I’m just wondering why your cute neighbor is sitting at the bar on Valentine’s Day instead of with you.”
My brows scrunch together. “Why are you at a singles’ mixer? You always have a date for Valentine’s Day.”
“You know our in-house accountant, Jeremy? He told me he was nervous about coming tonight so I offered to be his wing man. And he needs my help big time, there’s probably ten guys to every girl in here. So, I’m trying to set some conversations up for him.”
“That’s decent of you,” I grumble and he laughs.
The image of Juliette in a room full of mostly men is a serrated knife on the thread of my last nerve. I should have told her not to go.
“I try. Circling back to Juliette, though. Why have you not asked her out yet?”
“What if I have and she said no?”
“We share the same face, there’s no way she said no.” If he was in front of me right now, I’d hit him.
“Is she okay?”
“She’s a lamb in a pack of wolves, but she seems to be holding her own.”
“I’m going to need more than that. What’s her body language?”
“If you care so much, why don’t you come down here and find out?”
“I’m watching her dog,” I say through gritted teeth and he laughs out loud. The sound pierces my eardrum and I’m regretting not investing in that punching bag for my spare room.
“Let me get this straight, you’re at home watching the woman you like’s dog onValentine’s Daywhile she’s chatting up strangers at a mixer.”
“You can make fun of me later–”
“Oh, I will. This is going in the group chat too.”
“Just please tell me if she’s okay. She fiddles with things when she’s really nervous, but sometimes if her gaze is flicking around the room that’s a sign she’s looking for an escape but is likely trying to be polite.”
I don’t care if I just gave away how much I’ve been watching her, I need to know she’s not sitting in discomfort for the sake of being cordial.
“She’s fiddling with her straw. The guy she’s talking to looks like a wannabe hotshot with too much hair gel and not enough respect for personal space.”
