“Thanks,” I say with a friendly smile.
“So, who’s the lucky man who was allowed to stay for breakfast?” he asks, hanging the large box from Betties over.
“Umm… they’re actually all for me.”
His brows lift in shock.
“I’ve just been ill and—”
“Ah, I see. Well, if you want to give me his name, I’m more than happy to go and deliver a painful goodbye message.”
“W-what?” I ask in confusion.
“You’ve had a breakup, right? Eating your feelings? I’ve got sisters, I get it.”
“No, you really, really don’t. I don’t do mornings after, remember? I certainly don’t do boyfriends or breakups.”
“R-right. Shit, I—” Thankfully, his phone beeps, giving him the perfect excuse to hightail it out of my building and away from the massive hole he’s digging himself.
“Have a good day, Carl,” I call as he practically runs down the stairs.
I’m still shaking my head as I make my way back into my flat, kick the door closed behind me and sink down onto the sofa with my box of goodies.
With a morning chat show playing quietly on the TV, I lose myself in comfort food and attempt to eat my feelings.
* * *
Ihave no idea how I manage it after sleeping for almost twenty-four hours, but when my buzzer rings out around my flat, I’m startled awake.
“Shit,” I hiss, pushing the notes from my lap where they must have fallen as I untangle myself from the pillows I’ve twisted myself up in and stumble toward the door.
I have my finger on the button to speak to whoever it is before I remember why it could be a really bad idea.
Quickly glancing over my shoulder, I find that it’s gone six o’clock. School is long over. There’s every chance he’s been biding his time, hoping to build the suspense and—
“Bri, baby, are you there?”
All the air rushes out of my lungs as I lean forward, pressing my brow to the cool wall.
“Yeah, I’m here. What’s up?”
“Well, I was hoping to be let in,” Brad says lightly. “I’ve managed to get us a table at Twenty-Five.”
“How the hell did you manage that?” I blurt, successfully being pulled in by him name-dropping a bistro that’s taking reservations months in advance.
“I have my ways, baby. Now, are you going to let me up? I might have another little surprise for you too.”
Shit.
“Yeah, sure.” Regretfully, I press my finger against the button and grit my teeth when the buzzer sounds out.
His footsteps bound up the stairs like a puppy who’s excited to see its owner after a day away.
I should be excited too, but right now, I feel nothing.
“Oh.” My lips form an O when he emerges dressed in his standard sharp suit and clutching a dress bag with another expensive card slung over his shoulder.
“Surprise,” he says, a wide smile splitting across his face.