Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 85987 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 430(@200wpm)___ 344(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85987 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 430(@200wpm)___ 344(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
I wanted to wait a bit more, to settle my heart before I replied.
“A message like this one will do.”
His response came lightning fast.
You got it.
I tried my best to control the smile that was stretching my lips into what must be the biggest, goofiest grin, but the muscles of my face refused to cooperate. I slipped the phone into my pocket, and stepped out of the car onto clouds. I couldn’t feel the ground anymore. I was on such a high that it felt like I didn't even need to breath.
When I got into the shop Sandra rushed up to me. I tried my best to keep things neutral, but by the twinkle in her eyes I had not succeeded.
“How did it go?” she gushed.
“It was alright,” I replied, heading towards the office.
To my surprise she didn’t follow me. I sank into my chair and sighed with delicious contentment. Life was good. At least it was … until Sandra came in a few seconds later with a broom in her hand. Like a banshee she moved to attack me with it, and I had to jump up from the chair and rush around the other side of the desk.
“What the hell!” I yelled.
“I send you out with all the love and support that you’ll need and you come back to me with a pathetic thing like ‘it was alright?’ What’s wrong with you? Don’t you know you’re not supposed to do that to your best friend?”
“Oh for God’s sake,” I half-complained and half-laughed, as I caught the broom before she could use it on my face. I dragged it away from her grasp, and put it aside.
She took a seat on one of the chairs in front of my desk. “All right I forgive you. Now, start talking,” she said. She raised her eyebrows. “I don’t have to remind you we have three more brooms in the storage room.”
I laughed and returned to my seat. “Well,’ I said, “his secretary was accepting the flowers when he walked in …” By the time I finished my story her eyes were saucers.
“Now what?” she breathed.
“Now the ball is in his court,” I murmured.
21
Caleb
From the moment she left, it became impossible to concentrate.
The candidates we’d invited for their second interviews came in one after the other, but I could barely pay attention to them. All I could think about was the woman that I’d just kissed in my office. It had just dawned on me how easy it was to contact her. I had lived twelve years with her at the forefront of my mind, but unable to see or speak to her. It could now all happen at the press of a button. I was almost overwhelmed with excitement.
“Er … Mr. Wolfe?”
I looked away from the blank wall that my gaze had been locked on, and found the other two men watching me curiously.
“Do you have any more questions for him?”
I cleared my throat, and made a super-human effort to concentrate on the task at hand. “Yes, yes, I do.”
A few hours later, I looked up from the mountain of research in front of me to realize that the day was gone. Our office was on the eighth floor of one of the few high rises in town. I swiveled my chair around. Behind me were floor-to-ceiling windows that gave a beautiful view of the city’s skyline. I had paid big money for this view, but after twelve years staring at a brick wall I knew the value of a view like this. It was priceless. I gazed at the striking sunset, and for a few minutes, I drank in the majestic display of the orange and red hues across the horizon.
It was breathtaking.
There was only one thing wrong with it. I couldn’t share it with Willow. Rising, I headed over to the window. I leaned my forehead against the cold glass. Where are you Willow? What are you doing? She was so near and yet so far. I wanted to speak to her. To hear her voice. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and called her.
She picked up after a few rings. “Hello.”
“It’s me, Caleb,” I said, my stomach tightening.
She gave a soft laugh. “I know. I have your number saved on my phone.”
I swallowed. I hadn't really thought of what I wanted to say to her. Always in our relationship, she talked and I listened.
Once again, she stepped in to help me. “How has work been so far?”
“Good. What about the flower shop?”
“Things have been good here too,” she said.
I couldn’t help my smile. I’d never had such a mundane conversation with anyone for the last twelve years, and I loved every single second of it.
“You should be closing soon, right?” she asked. “Or are you working late tonight too?”