Wren
When I sat down at my desk Tuesday morning,my baby succulent had disappeared and been replaced by one twice its size. Its pot was glazed ceramic and very pretty, a pale shade of blue. I would have liked it if I wasn’t stumped by its very existence.
Natalie’s heels clacked as she approached from behind me. “Good morning,” she singsonged.
“Good morning.” I bent down and shoved my purse and coat in the compartment under my desk. When I straightened, Natalie had picked up my new plant, rotating it in her hands to inspect it.
“Do you not remember me telling you not to junk up your desk? Did you interpret that as ‘replace the small plant with an even bigger one’?”
“No.” I smoothed a hand over my lilac sweater. I’d felt cute when I’d left the house this morning, but in the face of beautiful Natalie and her flaming red swing dress and crimson lips, I felt myself shrinking.
Don’t shrink, don’t shrink, don’t shrink!
“No, I didn’t interpret it that way, and I don’t see this pot as junk. If it’s a problem, though, I’ll take it home.”
Natalie lowered her long, thick lashes, staring at me through slits. Then she waved me off and rolled her eyes. “It’s fine. Just keep it tucked under the counter so no one else sees it.” She pointed one of her dagger nails at my sweater. “This is pretty, but didn’t you just wear it last week?”
My hand shot up to my scoop-neck collar. “I might have. Is there a rule about how often I can wear my clothes?”
Her painted lips tipped into a not-so-friendly smile. “No rule, per se. But if you ever want to be more than a front desk receptionist, you really need to look the part. Of course you have limitations given your height and...other things, but you manage to make yourself look cute.” She clapped her hands together. “We should go shopping. What are you doing next weekend?”
My eyes widened. She had taken me so off guard, I couldn’t think of an answer fast enough to get out of her invitation. “Um. I don’t have concrete plans, but I have a son, so—”
Her mouth formed a perfect, cherry O. “Oh my god, I had no idea. How old?”
“He’s three.”
“No way.” She tossed her perfect curls behind her back. “I have a three-year-old niece. She lives in California, so I never get to see her. Bring your baby shopping with us. I’ll love up on him and play with him. It’ll be perfect.”
I should have been better braced for Natalie’s whiplash, but I didn’t think there was any getting used to her drastic change in moods from one second to the next.
“Ezra loves to play. Shopping, not so much.”
Her eyes drifted to the side, and she bit her lip. “You’re right. Holly isn’t really down for watching me try on clothes either. Nix the kid. We’ll do a playdate another time.”
With her decision made, she clattered away on her high, high heels, and I slumped back in my chair. I had no idea what had just happened. I didn’t really want to spend time with Natalie outside of work, but she hadn’t given me the opportunity to tell her no. I supposed that was one way to get what she wanted. Maybe I needed to take lessons.
Callum was standing outside of my regular coffee shop. I stopped in my tracks when I spotted him, tall and lean, huddled in his leather jacket that couldn’t have provided him nearly enough warmth. As soon as our eyes connected, he pushed off the wall and sauntered toward me.
I had twenty seconds to remember how to breathe. There was a time I used to dream about Callum walking toward me this way. In those dreams, I ran into his arms, and he wrapped me up tight. We’d breathe each other in and stare at one another in disbelief. We’d marvel that the person behind the screen was real. Solid. Perfect. But I’d screwed up everything before that ever happened, and now...now I didn’t know what we were.
I sucked in a breath and tucked my frozen hands in my pockets.
“Are you stalking me?” I asked.
The corner of his mouth hitched. “What would you say if I was?”
I lifted a shoulder. “It depends. Are you stalking me so you can find the perfect opportunity to get me alone and murder me, or are you just run-of-the-mill obsessed with me?”
His blue eyes sparkled with secrets and amusement. “You’ll have to wait and see.”
“Are you being ominous on purpose?”
He shoved his fingers through the side of his long hair. “Maybe mysterious.”
“What if I told you not to follow me?”
“I was here first, so you can’t claim I followed you, Wren.”