Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 125257 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 501(@250wpm)___ 418(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125257 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 501(@250wpm)___ 418(@300wpm)
She hops in the car, her overnight bag already packed. Thor is hanging out with my dad, likely messing up his puzzles and landing on his plates.
“You look stunning,” I tell her, drinking in the sight of her lush chestnut hair, her bright smile, her kind eyes. I reach for her silver sun charm, touching it, touching her.
“So do you,” she says, then drops a kiss on my lips.
It’s like a shot of happiness straight to my veins, and with it fueling me, I drive up the coast to a little town where we check into a treehouse hotel in the middle of an old-growth forest.
I gesture to the small cabin several feet above us, nestled high in the redwoods. “See? It has indoor plumbing, a shower, and a deck.”
She turns to me, grabs my collar, and kisses me hard. “You’re the best boyfriend ever.”
“That’s true,” I say, without any sarcasm or irony. It is true. I am. Because she deserves the best.
That night, we settle into sleeping bags on the deck, under the stars.
“We did it,” she says. “We finished Katrina’s list. I wonder why she had this one on it.”
She told me about the time she returned to the store, learned Katrina’s name, and the story behind the list. But we don’t know the why behind each item. I noodle on her question as I run my fingers through her hair. “Maybe because it gives you perspective on what really matters.”
She turns to me, her hand on my chest. “The people you love.”
We’re quiet for a minute or two, just listening to the sounds of nature as the night sky covers us. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch something. The flicker of wings. A silent flight. “Look,” I whisper with urgency, pointing to a branch twenty feet above us where an owl has landed silently, stealthily.
“You summoned an owl,” she says.
And I laugh. “Yes, Remy. I’m an owl whisperer.”
But I lose interest in the owl when she tugs me closer and pulls me on top of her, her bright eyes flickering with naughty thoughts. “There’s something I want to do under the stars.”
And she’s not at all silent as we enjoy the best benefit of sleeping under the stars—not sleeping.
EPILOGUE: MY PLANTS HAVE LEGS
REMY
I’m ready. Whatever the answer is, I’m ready. If I lose the job, I’ll find another one. It’s all going to be okay. I blow out a steadying breath, then rap on the open door to Daniel’s office a few days later. He asked me to come see him this morning. That’s all he said, and I’m trying not to read anything into it.
“Good to see you. How’s everything going?” He gestures to the chair.
I take the seat, perched on the edge of it. “It’s great. Lake and I stayed in a treehouse hotel on Friday night. And there were no snakes.”
He laughs, amused. “Good to know.”
“Thank you again for helping him the other day. That was amazing of you,” I say, so grateful Daniel played a role.
“Maybe there’s a new career for me as a romance designer,” he says, then lets his smile vanish. “Remy, I’ve given a lot of thought to how things went, and I want to reiterate that you don’t ever owe anyone information about your personal life. You can do whatever you want in your relationships. And no one but you and your partner should ever have any say.”
“Thank you,” I say, eager for him to get to the next part, whatever that is.
“And honestly, being able to fake a relationship isn’t the worst skill set in this job. We work in marketing and publicity. Appearances matter. But I also want you to know I care about you as a friend, and I want you to be able to come to me if you have any problems.”
“I do know that,” I say, then my brain replays what he just said. Come to me. He’s speaking in the present tense. He’s speaking about the future. I’m practically holding my breath as I ask, “Does that mean…?”
His smile is pleased, proud even. “Your work speaks for itself. The fact that you went the extra mile to plan the Hockey Is for Everyone initiative clinched it for me. I need someone who’s an overachiever.”
Fireworks shoot in my chest. “That’s definitely me.”
He stands, extends a hand, and says, “Welcome to the Golden State Foxes full-time.”
I shake his hand accepting the offer, moving forward into a bright, new future that fits me so much more than the one I left behind.
* * *
When I leave work that night, I walk through the concourse, passing the now empty beer stand where Jameson used to work. I guess he wasn’t able to renew his lease here without all his unearned product placement. Boohoo.
Later at my place, I break out a bottle of champagne I bought myself almost two months ago. Lake’s here in my kitchen, and we’re celebrating my new job. “I made you a promise I’d crack this open when I was over that jackass. But I’ve been over him for a long time,” I say, filling a flute.