by C. M. Boers
“Hi, I hope I’m not bothering you by coming over like this. I’ve noticed you in here a few times in the last week. I figure you must be new to the area . . .”
“Oh, ah . . . yeah, I just moved here.”
“I’m Jack.”
“Melanie.”
He smiled—his teeth were perfect, white, and impeccably straight. His black hair was longer on the top but short on the side, and you could tell he tended to finger comb it. The tousled style fit him in a way that appealed to me unlike I ever thought it would. It was quite different from Jeremy, who probably never left the house without his hair styled to perfection.
“I should let you get back to your work.” He stole a glance at my screen.
I slammed my laptop shut quickly. “Okay.” My voice sounded unusually high-pitched.
“It was good to meet you. I hope to see you around more.” He walked away but looked back with a smirk that hit me right in the gut just as he walked out the door.
I threw up my hand to wave. It was a little over the top, though it was obvious it amused him. Then he turned and walked up the street.
Well, that was graceful.
* * *
I left the house in a rush the next day, in my most business-like pale pink dress, anxious to get to the interview early.
The office was only a few blocks away, but I didn’t want to arrive winded or sore, so I drove.
My phone chimed from the cupholder.
I hope you’re doing well. I miss you.
Jeremy.
It was the first time I’d heard from him since our breakup. Many times, I held my phone, ready to send him a text, yet no words came. Switching from a romantic relationship to friends left me wondering how to talk to him. I truly didn’t know much about him and was grateful he made the first move. I waited to respond, hoping in just a little while I’d have something great to say.
As I stepped through the doors of the small office, a single desk greeted me, empty. The office was silent, and nobody was around.
“Hello?”
I was beginning to wonder if I was in the wrong place when a door opened down the hallway and a woman hustled out. Her fiery-red hair looked to be in a bun, though it was all starting to fall from its place. She carried a stack of folders at least a foot tall.
“Hi, I’m sorry. Things are a bit crazy around here right now.” She dropped the stack on the desk with a thud. “I assume you’re Melanie?”
I nodded, then second-guessed myself. Speak. “Yes.”
“Good to meet you. I’m Cindy, I’m the office manager here. You’ll probably only ever see me.”
She sorted through a file cabinet behind the desk. When she found what she was looking for, she turned back around.
“I’m going to be frank with you.” She paused and stopped rummaging through the file she held. “Is that okay?”
“Sure.”
“I don’t really have the time to interview you, nor do I have the capability to do both jobs anymore. Can you start right now?”
I hadn’t expected that. I practiced my answers to all the questions last night, except this one.
“Uh . . . yeah.”
“Great. Can you start by putting these in alphabetical order?”
She didn’t wait for an answer and rushed away, back into the room she came from.
For a moment, I stood there, dumbfounded. Did that really just happen?
I walked behind the desk and set my purse down beneath it. Rubbing my lips together, I looked around the shiny room and smiled.
My first job.
The first day passed fast amidst all the files. There were so many, like they’d been piling up in a disorganized heap for weeks. Eventually, Cindy started sending the phone calls my way too, my only instruction—take down detailed messages. I never saw another person in the office the entire day.
At four p.m., Cindy came out and told me I could go.
“I’m sorry to have just thrown you in today. But honestly, you did amazing. It would have taken me forever to go through all those files and keep up with everything else I have to do.” Her smile met the dark circles under her eyes. “Tomorrow will be better. We’ll chat and get all the paperwork filled out. Thanks for jumping in like you did.”
“Of course.”
“Have a good evening.” With that, she turned and walked back up the hallway to the same room she’d been in all day. I couldn’t help wondering if there was someone else in there.
“Thanks, you too,” I said to her back.
I decided after I was home to walk over to the diner a couple blocks away to get some take-out to celebrate. My order was waiting when I arrived: A burger; fries; and a chocolate shake. A little post-first day celebration for one.
On my way back, I checked my phone for messages. One from Dad and one from Grace, both just checking in. Then I saw the message from Jeremy, the one I hadn’t taken the time to respond to that morning. I typed a quick message and sent it off to him.
I got a job today! Hired and started on the spot!
Then I called Grace. She picked up on the second ring.
“I got the job! Didn’t even interview, they just put me right to work.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah. The place was a mess. I think they’ve been without office help for a while.”
“Ick. Cleaning up messes. Not my idea of fun.”
“Nah, it’s not bad. Mostly filing. What are you up to?”
“Well, I’m at the hospital.”
“What? Why didn’t you say something!?”
“Well, you wouldn’t stop going on and on.”
“I was not going on and on!”
I could hear her laughing at me.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“I’m fine. Better than fine. I moved my toe.”
“What?” I stopped walking.
“Yeah. I’m getting scans. The doctors want to see what’s changed.”
“That’s amazing.”
“Eh. I’m not getting my hopes up. But yeah, it’s not a bad thing . . . hey, I’ve got to go, they’re taking me back.”
“Go, go. Let me know what they say.”
She hung up, and I had an ear-to-ear grin, thinking about Grace walking again. That was way better news than me getting a job.
As I turned the corner, someone threw open the door to the coffeehouse and ran right into me, knocking me completely off-balance. I reached out to grab the door to catch myself, but my healing leg buckled beneath me, causing me to miss the door, and I hit the pavement. My spine absorbed the impact, sending a wave of pain up and into my ribs. The air deflated from my lungs from the force. Then I heard the crackle of the Styrofoam smashing and felt the squish of the hamburger bun flattening beneath me as gravity pulled my entire body to the concrete. My shake hit the ground last, spraying it everywhere, though as I looked up, I realized the majority was on me.
Awesome.
My leg burned, yet the shake now coating my clothing was seeping through, giving me the chills.
“Oh my gosh. I’m so sorry . . .”
“You,” I said, finally making eye contact. The same mesmerizing green eyes watched me, with a hint of worry.
I slipped out of my heels, leaving them to lie on the ground.
He dropped his briefcase to the ground and reached to help me up. It was then I realized not a single drop of my shake had managed to get on him. Of course.
“Are you okay?”
I brushed off my dress, thankful I’d worn shorts underneath, as I balanced on one foot. I hopped a few times, trying to stay upright, sending even more waves of pain all throughout my freshly healed body. Most of the shake was now just smeared around my stomach. I sucked in, trying not to let any of the cold, wet material touch me. I shoved my feet back into my heels.
“I think so.” Though I feared putting weight on my leg.
“Melanie, right?”
I nodded, bending to pick up my food from the
ground. I limped over to the trash and tossed it and the empty, broken cup.
“I hurt you. I’m really sorry, can I do anything? Let me replace your dinner, it’s the least I can do after ruining yours.”
The annoyance mixed with the temptation to get to know this beautiful man in front of me made for some very confusing emotions. I had to get away from him. He was trouble. Trouble I couldn’t handle right now.
“No, that’s okay. I’ll just order a pizza or something.”
“At least let me pay for it.” He pulled his wallet from his pocket, thumbing through it.
“No. I don’t need your money.” I started walking away.
He shoved his wallet back in his pocket and jogged after me.
“Where are you headed? I can give you a ride. You’re limping.”
I stopped, frustration getting the better of me, and ground my teeth. “Jack, was it?”
He nodded quick.
“I appreciate that you’re trying to make things right, but it was an accident. Equally as much my fault as it was yours.” Not really. “I’m fine. I live right there.” I pointed to the end of the row. “Right now, all I need is for you to leave me alone so I can go home and ice my leg.” And my ribs and butt.
I spun and stalked away.
“I’m really sorry,” he called to my back.
I put my hand up without turning around, shaking it twice, telling him both bye and stop in one gesture.
Later that night, after I’d found myself a new diner that delivered and the medicine dulled the pain, I thought of Jack. The sizzle of attraction was overwhelming. Each time I ran into him—usually not physically—the attraction grew. It made me nervous to think about. And angry with myself for treating him the way I had.
Where were my manners? I doubted he’d be interested in me anyway after that, so maybe I’d done myself a favor after all. Maybe avoiding him would be easier now.
I breathed in deep, and pain rippled through my chest.
I groaned, then threw back my covers and got in bed. Sleep; that’s what I really needed right now.
Today was the first day I’d taken off since I started work. I wanted to take Friday, but Cindy said it would be busy that day and they could really use me in the office. Compromise. Thursday it was.
My staircase was finally going to get the facelift it needed. First up, sanding down the wood. I doubted I’d finish it all this weekend, but I’d sure try. The extra day would really help me get as much done as I could.
I stopped by the coffeehouse for fuel on my way to the hardware store. The warmth in the cup invigorated me as I walked.
The smell of lumber met me at the door, and I went straight to the paint counter to order another gallon of the color I needed.
While they mixed it up, I browsed the sandpaper. My stomach dropped when I spotted Jack coming down the same aisle. I bit my lip and turned away, hoping he wouldn’t recognize me. Slowly, I made my way to the other end of the aisle, doing my best not to be obvious. Just as I went to round the corner . . .
“Melanie?”
My eyes fluttered closed. Busted.
If only I could have snuck around the corner a little bit faster. I spun around, trying to look friendly.
“I thought that was you,” Jack said. “How are you?”
“I’m fine.”
“Doing some sanding?” he asked.
“Huh?”
He pointed to the sandpaper I was standing in front of.
“Oh. Ah, yeah. I’m refinishing my staircase.”
He let out a whistle. “That’s a big job.”
“Hard work is good for you.”
And it helps keep your mind occupied instead of wandering back to the fact that you don’t have any memories prior to a few months ago.
“Right you are.”
I grabbed the sandpaper the video online said I needed. “I should go. I have a lot of work to do.”
I turned and walked away. He walked along behind me, staying the same distance from me the whole time. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to realize he was following me. I continued down the next aisle, pretending not to notice until I found the stain I liked.
When I got in line to pay, he was still behind me.
“Why are you following me?” I demanded, reaching over to grab a candy bar.
“I’m not. I need to pay, too.”
I narrowed my eyes at him and spun back around.
The cashier rang up all my items and started to tell me my total when Jack interrupted her.
“Put those on my tab, Mae.”
“What? No. These are mine.” I tried to hand her my card. She shook her head, smiling.
She thought he was being sweet. I seethed.
“It’s the least I can do for knocking you down the other day. You’re still limping. Maybe you should see a doctor.”
I ground my teeth together. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I’m limping because I got my cast off less than a month ago from a broken leg.”
I grabbed my things off the counter, threw down the few dollars in cash I had, and stormed out.
Who did he think he was?
“Melanie!” Jack called after me.
Picking up my pace, I made sure he didn’t catch up, ignoring the stitch in my side and burn that spread down my ribs.
I was still fuming by the time I got home. Who did he think he was, butting in like that? I used the residual frustration from it in my work and got the three stairs sanded before lunch.
Maybe I did have something to thank him for. For being a huge pain in my behind. A really cute pain in my behind. Those green eyes were just so . . .
“No. You cannot go there,” I said to myself.
Now would be the worst possible time to fall for anyone. It’d be far too complicated.
It wasn’t until my arm could take no more sanding that I moved to get started on the closet and realized I’d forgotten to pick up the paint.
I sighed. Time to take a break for dinner anyway.
For the first time since moving in, I took my car for something other than groceries and work. It was time I ventured out of my little two-block bubble. And maybe I’d be able to avoid running into a certain someone.
Sweaty and covered in sanding dust wasn’t my typical attire for getting dinner, so I opted for Chinese take-out. I could only imagine my mom’s shock if she’d seen me out in public looking this way, and it was becoming a habit, as this wasn’t the first time. It wouldn’t be the last.
The salty aroma of soy sauce and sweet scent of teriyaki mixed in the air and wafted to the front waiting area where I stood, waiting for my order, making my stomach growl.
“Melanie?” a woman called as she made her way out of the kitchen carrying a white paper bag filled fuller than it probably should have been for just me, but I was starving.
“Thank you.” I took the bag, turned to leave, and ran right into the one person I’d been hoping to avoid. Jack.
He put his hand out and caught my food, and his other stabilized me, keeping me from stumbling sideways.
“Well, hello,” he said. “We keep running into each other.”
I blushed and snatched my food from his hand. “Thanks for catching that.”
He looked me over. “Still working on your house?”
“Yep,” I said, trying to keep this interaction as short as possible.
“Jack,” the same woman called, carrying a bag similar in size to mine.
I used the moment to slip out the door. Speed walking to my car was just enough for me to get a clean getaway.
Within minutes, I was back in my driveway, my mind still on Jack. His bright smile made me gooey inside. I smiled to myself, like an idiot. What was I doing?
My phone rang, as if she knew what was going through my betraying mind.
“Hey, Grace.”
“Why do you sound guilty?” she demanded.
“What? I don’t,” I said quickly. A little too quickly.
I imagined her narrowing her eyes just the way she always did when she was on to me.
“Whatever. I’ll just find out what’s going on when I get there.”
“There is nothing to . . . wait, get here? You’re coming?”
“Yep! Tomorrow.”
“Wow! That’s soon!”
“Yeah, well, we’ve got to celebrate. I’m going to be walking before you know it!”
“What? Seriously?”
“Yeah, provided all the tests are right. They told me an hour ago.”
“Oh my gosh. I’m so happy for you.”
“You going to have room on your couch for this soon-to-be ex-wheelchair rider?”
I pictured my bare living room, aside from the floor pillow cushions and small end table.
“Ah, I’ll make something work. Do you need me to pick you up?”
“Yeah. My plane gets in at four thirty-five p.m. Get ready for an amazing weekend! See you tomorrow.”
“Okay!”
“Oh, and you better be ready to dish on what you’re so guilty about.”
She hung up before I had a chance to argue.
I glanced at my watch. Less than twenty-four hours until she would be here. That didn’t give me a lot of time to get ready for her.
I changed directions and turned off at the nearest park, thankful I’d asked for silverware. Then, instead of going home after I ate, I headed off to the nearest mega store.
Two hours and four trips to and from the car later, I finished unloading all the things I’d gotten for a successful girls’ weekend, the very first in my new house.
By the time I finished setting up the living room as a makeshift bedroom for Grace, I was exhausted. Feeling the pull of gravity on my eyelids, I glanced at the clock—eleven o’clock. I yawned. Time for bed.
* * *
First thing the next day, I walked in to work and got settled at my desk. Just like every other day, Cindy had already disappeared into the back office, where I knew J.R., the owner of the company, was, and my desk was already piled high with files. How they went through so many files each day was beyond me.
I’d only worked there a short time, but I thought it was odd I’d still never met my real boss, and he didn’t seem to mind since he never made a point to introduce himself. As busy as Cindy was all the time, it didn’t surprise me he was in the office before me and left after. But part of me wondered if there was another exit from his office. That would ensure I would probably never meet him.
