the blankets, but that’s not what you were put on this Earth to do.
“Here it is.” I push the timeline over the table. “I’ve planned the launch for February next year. Promotional packages will be sent out to a range of influencers and YouTube personalities. I’ll pull every favor I can to build hype about it.”
“And you’ve hired the marketing consultant I suggested?”
“Yes. She starts next week.”
Cole sinks into the papers like I’ve given him the unreleased script to a Hollywood blockbuster. His interest and support for this makes my chest warm. Why had I been afraid to share this with him for years? Cole hadn’t been an overnight success, either. My brother has worked for everything he has, and so will I.
A small part of me wants to hear Nick’s thoughts on this. His business sense is acute, especially knowing when to cut your losses and run. What would he say?
I push the thought away.
Nick doesn’t want to be in my life. It’s better if you go back to hating me, Blair.
Well, I’d be damned if I’d let him get his way there, too. For all of my sadness… I refuse to hate him. I doubt I ever really did.
I come home to a giant package outside my front door.
And by giant, I mean massive. Cardboard and heavy packing tape. It can’t possibly be for me—I haven’t ordered anything—but the name on the package is mine.
I wrestle the giant package into my living room. I’m sweating by the time I finally grab a pair of scissors from the kitchen and begin opening it.
To find the giant thing surrounded in bubble wrap.
“Is this a joke?”
No one answers, of course, as I put the scissors to merciless use. By the time I have the thing uncovered, my living-room floor looks like World War Three has taken place and it was exclusively fought in packaging materials.
I take a step back to inspect it.
It’s the quote from my study, the one I have printed up and taped to the wall above my desk. Work in silence, let success be your noise.
But it’s carved into beautiful wood, the finishing smooth and polished, the letters highlighted with color. It’s gorgeous.
Had he known it would arrive today, right as I’d come home from going through my company’s launch plan? I look through my purse in search of my phone, to call Cole and say thank you. That he’d remembered and thought about this.
It’s beyond thoughtful.
The buzzer of my intercom rings, but I’m not expecting anyone. Hesitantly, I press down the button to answer. “Hello?”
“Did you get my gift?”
It’s not Cole’s voice on the other line, not even Skye’s. It’s Nick’s.
Even mangled through the bad reception of the intercom, the gravelly texture of it raises goose bumps on my arms.
“Blair?”
“Yes. It just arrived.”
“Good.” A pause. “Can I come up?”
I look around my space, at the packaging, the clothes on the back of the couch. At my own lackluster outfit.
“Yes.” There’s really no other possible answer to that question.
I know exactly how long it takes a person to get from the bottom of my building to the top, if the elevator is there waiting for them. It’s about seventeen seconds.
Seventeen seconds to look myself in the mirror and realize that I need to run a brush through my hair. I apply Chapstick while I’m at it, shoving the hamper with dirty laundry into the corner of the bathroom, and shutting the door firmly to my office.
That’s all I have time for, because then there’s a knock on my front door and there he is. It’s only been a week, and still, the sheer size of him hits me again. Tall and broad and intimidating.
Nick doesn’t speak. He just looks at the giant quote, unveiled on my living-room floor, his hands flexing at his sides.
“I didn’t think it’d be that big,” he says finally.
I wrap my arms around myself. “It’s lovely.”
He nods. “How have you been?”
“Since we last spoke?” It’s a stupid question, because what else would he mean, but it slips out anyway, perhaps in lieu of the roughly four thousand other questions I want to ask. Why did you push me away? Why are you here? Why haven’t you called?
“Yes.”
“Good. I’ve been working.” I look away from his face to the quote on the floor. It seems like it’s easier to face for the both of us than each other. “I’ve heard that you and Cole aren’t really speaking.”
A twist of his mouth. “No, not really.”
“I’m sorry