“Called her to give my condolences. She loved Jack Shannon better than me, but no one loved her more than I did. Doesn’t matter that there is a lifetime between us.” I saw a softness in my father that I’d never seen before in my entire life. “Haven’t talked to her since.”
“Maybe you should go see Miranda. Talk to her?” Whatever softness fell over his face quickly left it as he brushed the thought away.
“No, it’s a burnt bridge. It doesn’t matter. I have Milly,” he said.
“I thought her name was Molly?” I asked sarcastically. We both knew that we didn’t know or care what her name was.
“Shit, you’re right. Whatever. She probably found her way down to the islands without me,” he said. I knew he was right. And that he’d be finding a new one soon enough.
“Just, don’t give me a reason to have to beat your ass, son.” With that he turned and walked out of my office.
It was the closest I’d ever get to a heart to heart with my father.
But he was right about one thing. I wasn’t going to take Rose for granted. I was planning something for her. The perfect third date. I just had to made sure that it all went according to plan.
I picked up the desk phone and dialed.
“Hello, public works,” the voice on the other line said.
“Hello, Adele, how are you doing, darling?” I asked. She was a year from fifty and happily married, but even a girl like her liked a little sweet talking.
“Wyatt?” she asked her voice hopeful. “I’m doing just fine, thank you for asking. What can I do for you today?”
“Can I talk to Jeremy? I need a favor.” I asked.
“I’m sure he would do anything for you, hon,” she said as she put me on hold.
It was going to be a night neither of us would ever forget.
I sat at my desk and tried to make the world stop spinning. Spinning and swaying. That was what it seemed to do as of late.
No wonder I was so nauseous. I was going to have to get my eyes checked. Might be time to change my contact prescription. It had to be what was making me dizzy.
"Rose?" Bill called from inside of his office. I stood up and popped my head in. It had been slow all morning.
"What do you need, Bill?" I asked.
"It's been kind of slow today, and I'm really craving coffee and donuts. Would you mind walking down to the bakery and picking up some? Here, you can get yourself something too," he handed me a ten dollar bill.
"Sure, is there anything else you would like?" I asked. The old me would've found it insulting. Hell, I would've been downright pissed. But that was back when I was a paralegal. When I thought my life was going somewhere.
When I thought, I had some prestige.
"No, I don't believe. Just a raspberry filled donut and a french vanilla brew. Black."
Laurel wasn't the type of place that had fancy coffee shops with exquisite pastries. No, there was one bakery, and they had a handful of donut selections and two flavors of coffee. French Vanilla and "regular." Whatever that meant.
I walked across the street towards the bakery and spotted Wyatt coming out of it, a paper bag and a cup of coffee in his hand.
It looks like Bill wasn't the only one that had the idea for donuts.
"Morning," I said as I approached him. Maybe I should've tried to avoid him, but I walked right up to him.
"Morning," he said, a lopsided grin on his face.
Neither of us was sure what to say so we just stood there staring at each other, an embarrassed blush on my cheeks and a grin on his face.
"Are you heading in?" he asked finally.
"What?" I said as I walked over.
"Are you heading for the shop?" he repeated.
"Oh, yeah. I need to get something for my boss,” I answered.
Wyatt opened the door, and that was when the smell hit me. Yeast and fried dough and sugar all at once.
Normally I'd breathe it in and let it wrap around me, but the nausea was overwhelming. I reeled from it and grabbed him, clinging to him as I fought the urge to throw up.
"Are you okay?" he asked as he pulled me away from the bakery and let the door close.
I nodded but waited to let go of him. "I'm sorry, I must be coming down with something. The smell of food is making me ill."
I must've looked as green as I felt because he nodded and walked me over to a small bench near the street.
He felt my forehead with the back of his hand then said, "you don't feel warm."
"I don't know. Maybe I'm just starting to come down with it," I answered.
"Maybe you should take off work and go home," he said.
"No, I can't do that. I'll be okay in a minute, I promise." I just needed a second. "I have to get him what he wants."