by Bella Emy
She gives me a small smile, letting me know she realizes I’m giving in to her bizarre idea. Somehow, she happens to think it’s great. I know I’m just setting myself up for failure.
“Because the pier is both of your favorite spot. You guys go there every so often. When I saw it was an option, I had to pick it. But c’mon, he’s not going to think anything other than how much he wants kiss you once when he sees you. I’ll make sure you look your best, as you always do. Plus, he’ll never think you are the one who sent it to him.”
I smirk. “You mean, you. You’re the one who did this.”
She chuckles. “Yeah, but it doesn’t matter either way. I just want him to finally see you for the good woman you are and to realize what he’s had in front of him all along. I just want my bestie to me happy.”
I smile. “I love ya, Margie.”
She laughs, playfully nudging me in the arm. “Love ya, too, P.”
CHAPTER SIX
Jackson
February 12, 2019
It’s two days until the dreaded Valentine’s Day and, once again, I’m alone this year. I have to admit, I’m kind of tired of just dating girls. I know I was saying not that long ago how I’m not interested in getting involved and becoming serious with anyone, but what can I say? I miss having someone around I’m really into. Maybe it’s because the holiday is right around the corner that’s making me feel this way, but I do miss having someone special in my life. I miss being in a relationship, but oddly enough, I don’t miss Amalia. Maybe it’s because of the way things were left off or because of what she did to me, but I just don’t miss her.
Well, it’s been a few days since court, and Paige has been acting all types of weird. I don’t know if it’s something I said, but she doesn’t seem the same around me anymore. Sure, she’ll say hi and talk to me when I walk into her office, but something is definitely going on with her. It’s as if she’s afraid to open up and talk to me like she used to. I wonder what the hell is up with that. Her carefree character and laughter have always been what have drawn me to her. I love the friendship we have, but for the past couple of days, it just hasn’t been the same.
And now, it’s Tuesday morning, and she’s still not in the office. She wasn’t in yesterday, either. I guess she isn’t well. It’s not like her to miss two days back-to-back unless she’s really sick. I should probably call her and check in to make sure she’s OK. But what if she’s resting, and the ringing of her phone wakes her up? Maybe I’ll just send her a text. But again, what if that wakes her up, too?
I flick my wrist to check the time on my watch. 11:45 a.m. Maybe I will text her. Hopefully, she’s awake and not feeling like shit. But I need to know. Whenever I’m out for more than a day, she always checks on me. Would I be considered an inconsiderate friend if I don’t? Probably.
I look up for a moment and see Jill smiling my way. I smile back nervously. She’s always smiling at me. I had to smile back. What else was I supposed to do? Hopefully it doesn’t give her the wrong signs.
I avert my eyes back down and pull out my cell phone.
Me: Hey, Paige. Just checking in to see how you’re feeling?
I hit send and put my phone down on my desk. Usually, she responds instantly, so I just wait.
And wait.
And wait.
And wait.
But over an hour has passed now, and there’s still no word from her.
AFTER A DREADFULLY long day at work, I finally pull into my driveway. I think it has felt like the longest day ever because Paige hasn’t been in to distract me with her funny and quirky ways. And I’ve missed our stupid conversations about absolutely nothing at all. Granted, it’s only been two days, but what can I say? I miss my best friend.
I step out of my car and grab my briefcase from the front seat. I haul it over my shoulder and then lock the doors. You know, for February, it’s not that cold out. Usually, the weather would be in the thirties or so this time of year, but today feels like spring already.
I look around and see some of my neighbors sitting out on their porch with cups of coffee or tea, just enjoying the evening. Tonight would be a perfect night to sit on the pier and just talk with Paige... I wonder how she’s doing.
I pull my phone out from my pocket, but I’m left disappointed once more when I realize she still hasn’t responded. She’s either pissed at me about something I have no idea I’ve done, or she’s so sick that she hasn’t even bothered checking her phone in the last couple of hours. Fuck, I hope she’s OK.
Taking a deep breath and placing my phone back into my pocket, I walk over to my mailbox and check to see how much junk is in there. Of course, I’m sure bills are in there as well. Those never fail, but luckily, I’ve always been pretty well off that they never really manage to pile up.
Reaching in, I’m right. There’s so much in here today that I could start my own freaking post office. I lean against the box and begin skimming through the envelopes.
Bill, junk, junk, bill, bill, junk, junk, jun-... wait, not junk. What is this?
I place all the other envelopes on top of the mailbox and look over a pink and white one with a sparkly red logo on it that says Single Status. This has to be some new type of advertising they’re trying to do. I flip it over in my hands, but there is no return address or anything of the sort on the back. The only thing on the top back portion of the envelope that really catches my eye is my name scribbled in pen. I don’t recognize the handwriting, but it’s definitely not computer generated. This isn’t some mailing scheme from the company, it’s real. Underneath my name it states the following message:
Message from your Secret Admirer Inside!
Secret admirer? Who?
My brows furrow as I continue looking over the suspicious piece of mail. My curiosity is piquing, getting the best of me, but before I decide to open it, I grab the rest of the mail, and head on inside.
I unlock my front door, walk inside, and place all the other pieces of mail onto the kitchen table. I only take the letter from my “secret admirer” with me into the living room and take a seat on my sofa. I take a breath, flip it over, and carefully rip it open.
When I go to reach inside, I find a lollipop attached to a heart-shaped note-card. A candy gram? I haven’t received a candy gram since high school. I chuckle to myself and read the contents of the note:
Your secret admirer wants you to know,
That she has been wanting to hold you so.
The feelings she feels for you are so intense,
She hopes you’ll soon bring her happiness.
Enjoy this treat, a special lollipop,
That with each lick and suck, you will make her heart stop.
So if you indeed get a sugar rush,
Meet her on Valentine’s Day, and find out who’s your special crush.
Jackson Fierce,
Your presence is required on Thursday, the Fourteenth of February 2019 at the Harborstone Pier at seven p.m. sharp. You, along with nine other singles will be assigned to a table to enjoy a fun night of painting and devouring the sweetest treats. Candies and chocolates will be spread across the tables while you paint the gorgeous scenery over the pier. The one who sent this candy gram to you will be there, sitting across from you. Do not disappoint your secret admirer and crush her dreams. Give in to your sweet tooth...
Fuck, that’s in two days. Knots begin to form in the pit of my stomach. I’m honestly speechless. I’ve never received something like this before. But who is it from? A sugar rush? Give in to my sweet tooth? This is crazy.
Oh, fuck. Could it possibly be Jill who sent this? Would she do something this brazen? I don’t suspect anyone else who would have a crush on me.
A crush? I haven’t heard that term being used in this sense in so long. But I can’t deny that it’s kind of cute. To know someone thought of me and went out of their way to do this must really like me.
But would Jill be the type of person to do such a thing? I don’t kn
ow... she doesn’t seem like it. Maybe it’s Tristan’s sister, Candace. I think she may find me attractive. Right?
Fuck! I don’t know, but now this whole thing is going to torture me for the next two days. Who could it be?
I need to know who did this. Faces of all the women I know run through my head. Which one of them is guilty? The possibilities are driving me wild.
And now, I really want to know.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Paige
I’ve been too much of a chicken to be at work the last couple of days. Just knowing that he could have already seen the candy gram Margie and I sent him... well, she sent it to him from me, or rather, from his secret admirer. God, the nerves in my belly are going crazy.
He texted me earlier today, and I’ve totally ignored him. I don’t know what to say. He thinks I’m sick... yeah, I’m sick all right... sick to my stomach from the nerves inside.
Margot thinks I should just go to work tomorrow and act like nothing has happened, like I don’t know a thing. I guess that’s the best thing to do, but I’m going to have a hard time facing him and lying about it. Shit, I’m such a loser when it comes to guys. Why couldn’t I have been born with the same confidence she has?
I step into the kitchen and see Margie scooping some mint chocolate chip ice cream into two bowls. Uh-oh. Whenever she’s scooping that much ice cream into bowls at ten o’clock at night, I know something is up.
“Hey, Margie. You OK?” I ask as I pull up a chair at the table.
Her dark brown eyes meet my baby blue ones. Fuck, she’s been crying. She shrugs and drops down into the chair to her right.
“What’s wrong, Margot?” I get up from my seat and walk over to her. I kneel down to be at eye level with her and place an arm around her shoulder. Immediately, the spoon she was holding falls on the table, and she’s wrapping her arms around me. She starts bawling uncontrollably into my embrace, her body shaking with each breath. “Girl, what’s wrong?” I try again. I’m worried about her. Margot doesn’t cry like this unless it’s something serious.
When she finally composes herself, she pulls back from me and looks into my eyes. She shrugs once more and then replies, “I found my mother.”
My eyes widen. “Your mom? Really? That’s great news, Margie... isn’t it?”
Margot has been looking for her mother since before she could remember. Apparently, her mother had given her up for adoption when she was born.
About two years ago, Margot signed up with an agency that specializes to help adoptive children find their biological parents. She got word right away that her biological father had passed away even before she had been born. His parents hadn’t even known he was going to be a father. But Margot’s mother was alive, and they would begin searching for her. Now I guess Margot finally got the answers she had been hoping for all along.
Margot had amazing adoptive parents, but still, she had always felt like there was that part of her that had been missing. She had always wondered what it would feel like to meet and know her biological mother.
“It is,” she chokes out, “but I’m afraid of meeting her.”
“What? Margie, she replied?” I inquire.
“Dana is her name. The agency told her that I have been trying to find her all these years, and she agreed to a meeting,” Margot says, standing up and wiping her eyes with a Kleenex.
I’m confused. This was what Margot had wanted for so long. Why is she so upset?
“So, isn’t that a good thing?” I try once more.
Shrugging again, she says, “P, she’s over fifty-years-old... she has grown up since she gave me away when she was just fifteen. Why the hell didn’t she come searching for me? Why the fuck did I have to be the one to look for her? She obviously doesn’t want anything to do with me and probably only agreed to meet me so that she can clear her conscience.”
Margie pushes one of the bowls my way and then takes the other and sits down. She stabs her spoon into the bowl of ice cream and shoves it into her mouth. She’s so pissed.
I grab the bowl and pick up a spoon off the table. Fuck, I need to calm her down somehow. But what can I say? I can’t help but wonder the same thing she’s been thinking. If I knew I had a daughter out in the world, I would definitely want to try my best to find her. God knows what type of situation her mother was in, but I don’t care. If that was my kid, I’d want to find her no matter what. Still, I need to try and say something, anything, comforting. “Well, maybe she was just nervous about meeting you... maybe she always felt that you resented her for giving you up.”
She looks at me and smirks. “I didn’t... ‘til now.”
Shit.
“You know, I was kind of hoping they would have told me she was dead right alongside the bastard that got her pregnant with me. At least then I would understand why she didn’t come searching for me. But to know that she’s out there living her life, not giving a fuck about me, really gets me fuming.”
I nod, but I try once again to steer the conversation into safer grounds. “So, when are you supposed to be meeting her?”
“In two days.”
“On Valentine’s Day?” I ask.
She nods. “Yup. Fucking Valentine’s Day. That’s what she fucking wanted. She’s lucky I don’t have a man, and I have no plans.” She shoves another spoonful of ice cream into her mouth, and after swallowing, says, “Anyways, forget about the bitch. I’ll deal with her when I see her. What about you? How are you feeling?”
I make a dubious face. Why is she asking how I feel? I’m fine. She knows the reason why I had skipped work the last two days.
“Me? I’m fine... why?”
As if she weren’t just bawling her eyes out into my shirt, she bursts out laughing.
“What is so funny?” I ask.
She catches her breath and gasps. “You mean, you really don’t know? Shit, P. I thought you knew. If I were you, I would have been checking that shit.”
“What shit? What are you talking about? What don’t I know?” I feel so lost and am ready to explode. What the fuck is going on?
“Mr. Perfect got the candy gram. Today. It was delivered to his house this afternoon, so I’m sure by now he’s opened it and seen the note. Shit, he’s probably licking that lollipop up and down right now... kinda makes you wish it were you he was doing that to, don’t you? Well, two days and he will be!”
“Margie!” My mouth goes agape. Her capability of going from one extreme to the next is insane.
“What? It’s true. If all goes according to plan, which it will, he’s not going to be able to keep his hands off you on Thursday night. Like I said before, you should totally go into work tomorrow and act like you don’t know a thing. Again, you’re welcome.” Margie smiles and digs right back into her frozen treat.
I shake my head back and forth. I can’t believe this woman, but she’s right. He’s probably already read the note and wondering who sent it. I need to go to work tomorrow and act like I know nothing.
“Margie?”
“Yes, P?” She bats her eyes at me, and I want to laugh.
“I’m going into the office tomorrow.”
“That’s a good girl,” she says. “Now, eat your ice cream, and let’s go try on some outfits.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Paige
“Welcome back, Paige!” Jill greets me all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed as I walk into the office on Wednesday morning. She’s always so chipper.
I carry my twenty ounce cup of coffee in one hand and my briefcase in the other. “Good morning, Jill,” I say, smiling at her. I continue hustling, heading straight for my office. I’m not in the mood for small talk, and I sure as hell don’t need her to start assuming shit.
Wait. Am I overreacting? What would she assume? As far as anyone knows, I was sick. Jax is the only one who received the candy gram, but he has no clue it’s from me. At least, I hope not.
Once I reach my office, I unlock the door and try not to look over my
shoulder toward Jackson’s office. He may or may not be in there, but I don’t want to make any type of eye contact with him just yet. I need to prepare myself... just a little bit longer.
Once I walk in, I’m greeted by a shitload of folders scattered across my desk. Some are in stacks, practically reaching the ceiling... OK, I’m exaggerating a little, but still... this is ridiculous; I’ve only been out two days.
I move the files to the side and then place my bag and coffee down. After that, I plop down into my chair, inhaling deeply. I try not to, but I can’t help but look right into where Jackson’s office is. Lucky for me, he’s not in yet.
I let out a huge sigh of relief as I begin organizing the files on my desk. After a few moments, I log into my overflowing email account. Once it looks somewhat tidy, I take my first sip of coffee. I usually don’t bring in my own, but since I’m desperately trying to avoid people today, I decided to make sure I had some. The less I’m walking around aimlessly in the hallways, the better.
I pick my coffee cup up once more to take another sip, but I’m suddenly thrown off guard.
“Knock, knock...”
I slowly look up from behind my coffee mug. I know that voice. I could make it out in a crowd of thousands of people. That sexy, low voice... It could belong to no one else but Jackson Fierce.
As my eyes meet his, I take a quick gulp of the sip I had just taken and place my cup down onto my desk.
He chuckles nervously and takes two steps inside my office.
“Jackson. Good morning,” I say in a quiet tone.
“Hey, Paige. Feeling better?” He continues walking ‘til he reaches my desk. Damn, he looks good. The fact that no modeling agency has ever asked him to model business suits for them is beyond me. The way they fit on him like a glove makes my mouth water. He takes a seat in the chair opposite from mine and smiles at me.
