“When the hell did I become this person who writes all these lists?” I curl up the last two lists and throw them away. I do not need everything perfect. That’s not who I am, and it’s not who Claira is. Fine, I’ll say it, I’m bored. I’m twenty-five years old and bored on a Sunday afternoon because my daughter wanted to spend the night with her grandparents.
I look down at my phone and see I have a text from Jamie. He’s messaged a few times throughout the week. Sometimes it would be about work, but more often than not, it was to see how I was doing. We talked about everything and nothing, but the one thing that he always did was ask how Clairabella was doing. It was disconcerting at first. I never brought her up at work, so for him to actively ask about her in a genuine capacity had my guard up. But he always made sure she and I were okay. Jamie is slowly peeling back my layers, and it scares me to my bones. He was a jerk for two years, and I’m not sure I can forgive him right away.
Mr. Asshole: You’re never going to tell me what my name is in your phone, are you?
Me: That would be a big negative.
Mr. Asshole: One day, Callie. One day. What are you and Clairabella up to?
Me: I’m up to nothing. My little rascal abandoned me for time with her Gran and Pop. What about you?
Mr. Asshole: Sitting at the coffee shop down on Main Street. Care to join me?
Me: I don’t think that’s a good idea.
Mr. Asshole: Why? I promise I’ll even let you yell at me some more.
I roll my eyes at his response. That would go over well, I’m sure.
Me: You’re my boss. I’m your employee.
Mr. Asshole: It’s just coffee between two friends?
That has me rolling in laughter. I may have accepted his apology, but friends? I don’t think so.
Me: Getting ahead of yourself, don’t you think?
Mr. Asshole: Can’t blame a guy for trying, beautiful.
“No way. No fucking way.” I drop my phone to the table, backing away like it’s hot lava. Jamie hasn’t noticed me in the two years I worked for him, and now he calls me beautiful. What in the actual hell? I’m left boggled; literally, I’m speechless. I pace the floors in the living room, straightening things that are already picked up because Claira made a mess of the pillows and blankets. Sure, her fort was super cute and fun to look at, but without her home, it’s not the same.
I walk back to my phone a few minutes later, having no idea how to answer Jamie, so I do what any other girl would do when they need advice. I text my best friends.
Me: 911! I repeat, this is a 911. Jamie asked me to grab coffee with him, and he called me beautiful. What the hell do I do? He’s my boss, the same one that made my life hell for two years.
I wait to see what Presley or Lyla will say, to keep myself busy and not respond to Jamie. I place my list on the fridge, place the cups from breakfast in the dishwasher, and wipe the counters down again. I really do need a life.
My phone beeps, letting me know I have a text, so I walk toward it slowly as if it can sense me coming near to it. When I look down, I see it’s Lyla. I let out a sigh of relief.
Lyla: He screwed up, but he apologized times ten. He changed your work schedule, gave you a raise and more vacation than anyone would ever do. Pull on your big girl panties. Meet him for coffee.
Presley: For real, I love you, but you’ve had the hots for him. Sure, his personality sucked for a bit, but this could be the turning point. Also, wear the strappy sundress. No jeans!!
Me: Oh my gosh, fine. I’ll go, but keep your phones near you in case I need to send out an S.O.S.
I place my phone back down on the kitchen table, make my way to my room, and change into a pair of black shorts, an oversized boyfriend t-shirt, and throw a jean jacket with it in case it gets cool. I know Presley said I should wear my sundress, but there is no way. It shows way more of my skin than I would like, especially in the chest area. Once I’m done, I do something I swore I would never do.
I call Jamie, and he picks up on the first ring. “Hello, Callie.” His voice is deep and husky. I’m ashamed to admit, when his slight accent comes out to play, it causes shivers to go down my spine.
“Hey, Jamie. Sorry it took so long. Do you still want to meet for coffee?” I ask, my toes drawing lines on the floor while I await his answer.