“What was the last text from her like?”
“Like normal. Sweet, nice, nothing bad.”
“If she is new, maybe she didn’t want to make a bad impression by talking to you?”
“Hmm…maybe. It just felt off. I can’t put my finger on it. It’s just a gut feeling.”
“Do you have any other way of contacting her?”
I shake my head. “No, just her phone number. But she isn’t answering my calls or texts.”
Which is unusual.
“Will you see her for work again?”
“Actually, yes, next week we have another meeting with the client.”
“Well, see how she acts then. Maybe call her name out and ask to have a minute.”
“Yeah, I’ll try that,” I say and take another bite of my lunch.
“You are different with this one, brother.”
I don’t answer, because really, what’s the point in denying how I feel about her? I haven’t been consumed by a woman in years. The way I can’t go a minute without my mind drifting to thoughts of her, and not focusing on work, it’s the only sign I need to tell me that there is something about Gracie, something that I need.
Chapter 13
Gracie
Enteringmyapartmentafterwork with McDonald’s in tow, I hit the couch and dig into the fries and burger while they’re hot. The sweet and salty taste is the perfect combination for my shattered mind. I don’t like cooking normally, and the fact I’ve had an emotional day means I needed greasy takeout.
I sip the remaining soda, and afterward, I pick up my phone from the table and lie back on the couch to call Ava. I need to check in to see what’s happening with the pregnancy and tell her what’s happened with the new job and Marc.
Even saying his name makes me sad; it’s as if I’m being punished for something.
I just don’t know what.
“Hello,” she answers after a couple of rings.
“Hi, it’s just me,” I say with some more excitement than I had a minute ago. Just hearing her familiar voice makes me feel comforted.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“I’m just sorting out dinner. You?”
“I’m having McDonald’s. What’s your dinner? Do you have cravings yet?”
She chuckles. “Nachos. But yes, I have cravings all the time.”
“Really. Like what?” I ask, intrigued.
“Cheese is mainly what I want right now.”
I laugh. “That isn’t something I would have guessed, but are you doing okay otherwise?”
“Yeah. I’m still coming to terms with it, but most of the time I’m happy.”
I can understand her hesitation. Growing up after she lost her parents, then running away from her aunt and uncle, would make her scared about the type of parent she’ll be and whether she’ll be good enough.