I smile at the interns on the elevator and throw a friendly greeting at the receptionist on my floor. Even Carole Mendez, my editor-in-chief’s dragon-like secretary gets a smile from me when I pass her in the hall. I can’t believe how happy I am. I feel as if I’m floating.
Minutes after I enter my office, there is a knock and a delivery of the most beautiful arrangement of flowers ever. I retrieve the card, excited as I read Landon’s message.
‘Have a great start to your week,’ it says. ‘You own my heart.’
I close my eyes, my hand going to my mouth as my heart floods with overwhelming emotion.
Picking up my phone, I go to my last call and dial his number, and he picks on the first ring.
“Hey, love.”
“Hey, yourself.” I’m grinning like an idiot. “I got your flowers.”
“I hope you like them?”
“Are you seriously asking that?” I sigh. “Of course I love them.”
I hear him breathe. “How’s it going over there?”
“I just got to work. Nothing yet.”
“I have this crazy desire to cancel my entire schedule for the day, come over, and steal you away,” he says. “I have a meeting in a few minutes, but I’m busy scrolling through pictures of you on my phone.”
My heart swells. “What pictures?”
“The ones from the beach in Newport,” he replies with a self-mocking laugh. “They’ve been my constant companions these past two weeks.”
I remember that particular weekend, the Sunday afternoon we spent on the beach walking and taking selfies and I suddenly miss him with my whole being. “I want to cancel my schedule too,” I admit. I feel like I would be happy to shirk all my other roles, be his girlfriend and nothing else for as long as possible. It’s a silly thought, disloyal to all notions of female independence, but it’s born out of a profound and indescribable happiness. “I have to wean myself off you,” I say with a sigh. “I’m afraid of how totally you’ve captivated me.”
“Don’t even dare.” Landon laughs softly. “Though I’m sure I’m the one who’s helplessly captivated.”
“I can’t wait for this evening,” I whisper.
There is a short silence on his end. “This time, I’m never letting you go.”
I close my eyes. “I’m not going anywhere. Never again.”
“I’m thinking up reasons to postpone this meeting so we can keep talking,” he admits.
“What’s the meeting about?”
“Does it matter?” There is a smile in his voice. “Actually it’s to discuss a conceptual design proposal for a property I want to acquire in Vegas.”
“I read about that.”
“So you were reading about me.”
I smile. “Stop teasing.”
“I kept all the articles that had pictures of us together. You looked lovely in all of them.”
I close my eyes, not sure of how to reply to that. “Thanks,” I say finally.
He chuckles. “You’re welcome,”
“I have an interview today,” I tell him, explaining about the invitation from the Gilt Review.
“Does that happen often?” His voice is serious. “An interview from such an old application?”