Honey on Your Mind

by Maria Murnane

  “No way. For real?”

  She sat up straight. “OK maybe not love, but I’m definitely in like.”

  I nodded. “In like is good.”

  “In like is very good. It’s all so good. I can’t believe how good it is.”

  I tucked my magazine into the seat pocket. “So what about his kids, his ex, the whole Nashville thing. Doesn’t that scare you a little bit?”

  She shrugged. “It’s not ideal, but what is ideal anymore? I’m thirty-four years old, and until recently I’ve been dating guys who are my age—if not older—who still act like they’re in college. They don’t call or even text when they say they will, they expect you to hop in the sack on the first date, and they’re usually dating half of Manhattan along the way. New York is filled with playboys, and I’m just sick of that whole scene. I’d rather date a divorcé who lives in another state than deal with another asshole.”

  I’d never heard her speak with such conviction. It made me smile.

  I thought about what she said before replying.

  “I hadn’t thought about it until now, but having a boyfriend has definitely made my move to New York easier. Trying to deal with dating on top of everything I’ve got going on would be too much. At least with Jake, the only issues we’re dealing with are geography and our crazy schedules.” Those issues were beginning to concern me, however, and I was really looking forward to seeing him in person.

  “See what I mean? Dating is really hard here,” she said.

  I nodded. “I don’t think I could take the anxiety of wondering if or even when he was going to ask me out again.” It hadn’t been very long since I’d been in that exact position and I never wanted to go back there.

  She stuck out her tongue. “I hate the dating scene here. It’s too competitive for me. On Monday, the night before Gary came into town, I had another date through that dating service I told you about.”

  “The one you hate? What did you say it was called? Just Joking Around?”

  She laughed. “Just a Drink, but I call them Just a Joke, because they suck.”

  “If they suck so much, why do you keep using them?”

  “Because I paid them up front for a set number of dates. That’s why they don’t care about setting me up with losers—they already have my money. A lot of it.”

  “Yikes.”

  “Yeah, like I said, they suck. Anyhow, they set me up with this man they said owned his own business, so I figured he had to be interesting, right?”

  I narrowed my eyes. “I don’t know if I want to hear where this is going. Am I going to need a drink to hear where this is going?” I pretended to flag down a flight attendant.

  She laughed. “They also told me he was funny, and that he liked wine.”

  I held up three fingers. “Owns own business. Funny. Likes wine. I would say ‘How can you go wrong?’ but something clearly went wrong.”

  She nodded. “So the guy walks in and sits down at the bar, then proceeds to order a glass of tap water because he doesn’t drink.”

  “He ordered tap water at a bar?”

  “Oh yes. Plain, free, tap water. Nothing else.”

  I scrunched up my face. “Not good.”

  “Definitely not good. So then, we start chatting, and despite what the agency people have told me about him, he is not funny. He is the opposite of funny. He is Eeyore.”

  I laughed. “Eeyore? From Winnie the Pooh?”

  She nodded. “He could make Debbie Downer look like the life of the party.”

  “I could never understand why Eeyore was so sad all the time. Why was he so bummed out? I mean, Winnie the Pooh and Piglet and even Christopher Robin seemed fun to hang out with, right?”

  She put her hand on my arm. “Focus, Waverly.”

  “Oops, sorry.” I blinked and shook my head. “OK, I’m focusing. So he doesn’t drink, and he’s clinically depressed. What happened next?”

  “So I’m sitting there drinking my wine while he drinks his tap water, and we get on the topic of our jobs.” She gestured to me and then back to herself. “I told him about Waverly’s Honey Shop and my other accounts.”

  “OK…”

  “So then he starts to tell me about his company, and it turns out that it has just one employee, which is of course…him.”

  I nodded. “Ah, yes, a company of one. I know that scenario well.”

  “Yes, but you don’t go around saying you own your own company, do you?”

  I laughed. “Hardly.”

  “So you want to know what his real job is?”

  “I’m not sure I do.”

  She put a hand on her heart and tried not to laugh. “He is, I kid you not, a magician.”

  “A magician?” Several people seated near us turned their heads.

  “Shhh, you’re screaming.”

  “A magician?” I whispered. “You’re joking.”

  She shook her head. “Totally not joking. Birthday parties, corporate events, hourly fee or flat rate, all prices negotiable.” She checked the services off on her fingers.

  “You mean pulling rabbits out of a hat, cutting women in half, the real deal?”

  She nodded. “I paid two hundred dollars to go on a date with a depressed magician who doesn’t drink.”

  “You paid two hundred dollars?” My voice went back up a few decibels.

  She put her hand over my mouth and lowered her voice. “Waverly, seriously, keep it down.”

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered. “But two hundred dollars for one date? With a magician? That company is a joke.”

  She nodded. “Totally.”

  “You weren’t kidding about the dating scene in New York. I can see why you’re not so worried about Nashville or the kids.”

  “Yep. I’d rather deal with kids in Nashville than a serial killer clown.”

  I tilted my head to the side. “A serial killer clown?”

  “Yes. I figure a depressed magician isn’t that far away from a serial killer clown, right? They’re definitely in the same family.”

  “Good point. So is the trip to Vermont happening?”

  She smiled. “Yep, the weekend before Christmas. Is that still when Andie’s coming?”

  “I think so. Bummer.”

  “Tell her not to get you into too much trouble. If even one photo of you dancing on a bar in your underwear turns up on Facebook, your Midwestern fans might turn on you, and that would be a disaster for Waverly’s Honey Shop.”

  I saluted. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll try to remember that.”

  • • •

  The next day we had our meeting with the buyer at Bella’s Boutique. It went well, and like the woman from Jordan Brooke, she placed a big order to begin the first of January. Her favorite product was the Honey tote bag that said JUST SMILE. After she and Paige worked through the details, she asked me to pose for a photo with her, which once again, weirded me out. I was still struggling to figure out how to manage my new celebrity, however minor. On the one hand, I wanted to laugh at it because I found it so absurd, but I didn’t want to hurt the feelings of the complete strangers who seemed genuinely thrilled to meet me in person. So I followed my own advice and just smiled.

  It was exciting to have all this new business lined up for January and beyond, but at the rate the new orders were coming in, when it came time to fulfill them I was going to have to hire a full-time product manager–or ask Paige to become my first real employee. I knew how much she loved the flexibility of working for multiple product lines, however, so I didn’t know how she’d feel about it. Plus, so far I felt like she’d been working with me as a consultant, not for me as an employee, and I was wary of disrupting the professional/personal relationship we’d developed. The more time I spent with her, the more the personal side of that relationship meant to me, and I didn’t want to screw it up by becoming her “boss.”

  As usual, so much was happening, and so fast.

  • • •

  Jake got us center-court seat
s for the Hawks-Cavaliers game just a few rows above the bench. I, of course, wanted his team to win, but Paige and I didn’t really care that much about the game itself. It was fun having VIP seats though, and we had a great view of the players in their shorts, so we weren’t about to complain.

  After it was over, Paige took a cab back to the hotel to do some paperwork, and I waited by the locker rooms for Jake. As I stood against the wall and watched the media, arena employees, team staff, and various hangers-on come and go, I thought about how much had happened since the last time I’d seen him in person. I’d made tremendous strides since the early days of our relationship, when I’d been afraid to open up and really share with him what I was thinking, much less what I was feeling. I’d nearly lost him because of that, and now I made a concerted effort to keep him updated on everything that was going on in my life and my head, the good and the bad. But the distance and our jobs certainly didn’t make it easy. And it wasn’t just my relationship with Jake that had suffered from the crazy new life I was living. At least he and I were in regular contact, while I’d barely spoken to McKenna and Andie. I wondered if they had any idea how much I missed them. There just never seemed to be enough time to call.

  And I never seemed to get enough sleep.

  And I hadn’t worked out in weeks.

  And I still hadn’t called my dad.

  You suck, Waverly. Call Dad!

  I thought about what Paige had said about how Gary made her feel.

  Connected.

  I was living a life that so many people would call a dream come true, and I was enjoying it, I really was. But as the hallway slowly emptied out, I realized I felt a bit disconnected too.

  • • •

  “Are you sure you’re not too tired for dinner? You seem tired.”

  I smiled and leaned my head against Jake’s shoulder as we walked into the hotel. “I’m fine, and dinner sounds great.” We’d just exited the team bus, which had been a dark and quiet ride, as nearly everyone on board was listening to headphones or dozing. The Hawks had lost, so the energy level was subdued. “I’m so happy just to be here with you. And Paige really wants to meet you.”

  He put his arm around me and pulled me tight. “I’m glad you’re here too. It’s been too long.”

  “Mmm,” I said softly, nodding my head.

  We took the elevator up to his room, and as he opened the door, he said, “Just give me two minutes to change, OK?”

  I saluted. “Two minutes it is. Are you going commando right now?”

  He leaned down and kissed me on the forehead. “You’ll have to wait and see.”

  I walked over to the bed. “I’m going to rest my eyes just for a minute.” I kicked off my shoes and curled up on top of the covers.

  He dropped his athletic bag on the floor and disappeared into the bathroom. “I can’t wait to hear everything that’s been going on and actually see your face when you’re telling it to me. I’ve missed that pretty face of yours.”

  I touched my hands to my puffy, sleep-deprived cheeks. “You are way too kind. My face is far from pretty these days.”

  “Your face is always pretty to me.” I heard him turn on the faucet, and I felt my eyes closing.

  “I’ve missed you, Jake,” I whispered to the pillow.

  Then I promptly fell asleep.

  • • •

  I woke up in the middle of the night, sweating.

  Where am I?

  I sat up in bed. I was still fully dressed, still on top of the bedspread. I looked to my right. Jake was sleeping in the adjacent queen bed.

  My throat was killing me, as was my head. I stood up and walked to the dresser to open a bottle of water. I tried to be quiet as I gulped it down, but Jake woke up.

  “You OK?” he mumbled.

  “I don’t feel well, Jake.” I walked over to his bed and sat down. “I’m so hot, and my throat hurts.”

  He sat up and put his hand on my forehead. “You’re burning up.”

  I looked at the clock between the beds. It was four in the morning.

  “I fell asleep on you, didn’t I?”

  He nodded. “You crashed a couple minutes after we got up here. You looked so tired that I couldn’t bring myself to wake you up.”

  “I’m so sorry, Jake.”

  He scratched the back of his head. “It’s OK. I grabbed dinner with some of the guys. I texted you and left you a note on the sink in case you wanted to come meet us, but when I came back you hadn’t moved.”

  I pressed my palms against my cheeks. “I’m so hot. Did I already say that?” Everything seemed so fuzzy. I lay down on the bed next to him. “I’m so tired.”

  He put his hand on my forehead again. “You definitely have a fever. Do you want to change out of your dress?”

  Before I could answer him, I was asleep again.

  • • •

  I didn’t wake up until nearly one o’clock the next afternoon. I was drenched with sweat, and my throat was still killing me.

  Jake wasn’t in the room. I sat up and held my head in my hands. It hurt to swallow. I stood up and wobbled into the bathroom, where Jake had left another note:

  Hey, sick girl, I’m going to work out in the gym and grab the newspaper. Call or text when you get up, and I’ll bring you breakfast.

  P. S. I turned your phone on silent so it wouldn’t wake you.

  I held the paper to my heart. What did I do to deserve this guy?

  I stripped off my dress, splashed cold water on my face, and brushed my teeth. I wrapped a towel around my shoulders and walked over to my purse to check my phone. The display said I had eight voice mails.

  Eight voice mails?

  I sat on the bed in my bra and underwear and listened to my messages:

  10:32 p.m.: “Hey there, it’s Paige. I’m at the hotel dying to meet this Jake of yours. Are you back yet? Call me.”

  10:58 p.m.: “Hey, it’s Paige again. Where are you? I’m at the hotel bar feeling sort of like a loser sitting here by myself. OK, bye.”

  11:17 p.m.: “Hi again, I have to get out of here because way too many creepy old men are hitting on me. I really hope you’re OK! Call me in the morning. Promise? Bye.”

  9:12 a.m.: “Hi, Waverly, it’s me again. I’m at the airport. Are you OK? What happened to you last night? I’m a little worried, so please call me as soon as you can. Plus, we need to go over the order from Bella’s Boutique, which is so exciting! Enjoy the rest of your weekend with Jake. I really hope you’re OK.”

  I couldn’t believe how nice Paige always was. I had totally blown her off, and she wasn’t even upset. Andie would have had my head if I’d stood her up like that.

  I kept listening to the messages:

  9:19 a.m.: “Kitten, it’s Scotty. Please call me as soon as you get this. Thanks.”

  10:11 a.m.: “Hey, Waverly, it’s Kristina. Want to come over for dinner tonight? Give a shout. Hope you’re well.”

  10:46 a.m.: “Hi, Waverly, it’s, um, it’s Dad calling. Can you please give me a call when you can? I have some news. Thanks.”

  12:42 p.m. from Andie: “Hey, woman, it’s me. We’re on for the weekend of the nineteenth. Be scared. Bye!”

  After I finished listening to all the messages, I put the phone down on the bed and followed with my head on the pillow.

  Then I fell asleep again.

  When I woke up it was dark outside. I was still in my bra and underwear, the towel half covering me. I sat up and held my head in my hands for a moment, then looked at the clock. It said 7:09 p.m.

  Seven o’clock? Good lord. What is wrong with me?

  Just then, Jake walked out of the bathroom. “Hey, sleepyhead, how are you feeling?”

  I blinked a few times. “I can’t believe I’ve been out all day. I’m so sorry.” We both had morning flights to catch, so once again I’d cut our time together short.

  He sat down on the bed and put his hand on my forehead, then my neck. “Your fever broke. How’s your throa
t?”

  “Sore, but much better. My whole body is stiff. And I’m starving too.”

  “I can only imagine. You’ve been asleep for nearly twenty-four hours.”

  “I still can’t believe it’s already seven. I wanted to spend the day checking out Cleveland with you. Did you have fun? What did you do?”

  “I sat here and watched you sleep, of course.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “No you didn’t.”

  He laughed. “OK, you’re right. I just chilled out at the hotel, mostly. After I worked out I showered at the gym so I wouldn’t wake you, and then took a cab downtown for lunch with a couple of the players who hadn’t left town yet.”

  “How is downtown Cleveland? Is it fun?” Our hotel was about two miles away from anything resembling a “downtown.”

  “It’s a huge party, actually. I’m drunk right now. Can you tell?”

  I laughed. “Shut up. What else did you do?”

  “After the guys took off for the airport I found a cushy chair in the lobby and finally finished reading that JFK biography, so all in all, it was a good day.”

  “Haven’t you been reading that book for like four months?”

  He nodded. “Yes, so thank you for getting deathly ill, which forced me to sit down and finish it.” He rumpled my hair, which probably had enough oil in it to power the kitchen of a small restaurant.

  “I’m so sorry for ruining our day, Jake. I think my body is trying to tell me something.”

  “I think you’re right. Are you up for a shower and dinner? Or do you want to stay up here and order in? I’m perfectly happy to sit and watch you, as long as you stay in your underwear. Or better yet, out of your underwear.”

  I laughed, then stood up slowly and wobbled over to my suitcase. “Shower, yes. Dinner, let’s see how I feel after the shower. Deal?”

  “Deal. But I still like the idea of you out of your underwear.”

  • • •

  “What did your dad have to say?” Jake refilled my water glass and set the pitcher down on the table between us. The hotel restaurant was about as far as I could manage to go, but at least I was finally out of the room.

  “I haven’t called him back yet. I haven’t called anyone back yet.” I sighed into my pasta. “I know if I’d called Scotty, I’d probably already be on a plane back to New York to cover some random event tomorrow morning, so I couldn’t bring myself to do it.”