rinse his mouth in the sink. “I saw them, but I wanted to use yours.”
“That’s gross.”
He winks in the mirror back at me.
Talent slips his feet back into his shoes and slides his arms through his jacket before straightening his tie. “We have an important meeting with some high-profile clients today at the office, and I can’t get out of it this time. I have to swing by my place to shower and change first, or I’d take you to breakfast.”
“I understand,” I say. It’s sweet that he wants to feed me before he starts his day.
Talent’s eyes darken and his jaw tenses when he asks, “Do you work this afternoon?”
“Not today.”
Clearly reassured, the right side of Talent’s mouth curves into a slight smile and he comes forward to kiss my forehead. “Come downtown for lunch. I’ll send a car to pick you up.”
Stocked with an arsenal of reasons why I shouldn’t step foot in the Ridge & Sons building again, I push them aside and nod hesitantly. Talent stayed up all night and listened to stories about my grueling upbringing, and he’s still here. The least I can do is show up for lunch if it makes him happy. Now that my schedule is clear while Inez sorts out Hush, I don’t have anything else to do with my time.
Although, I’m positive I’d cancel my entire schedule to spend lunch with him even if I were booked.
“Great,” he says. “I’ll see you in a few hours.”
Talent leaves my room and I pull the sheet completely over my head, wound up with eagerness and bubbling excitement. I’m no better than a pubescent teenager with her first crush, kicking and thrashing for some relief from the flood of endorphins having its way with my nervous system.
No, this isn’t just a crush.
This is everything I’ve never felt before all at once.
“Lydia.” Talent’s voice scares me from my revelry, and I push the sheet back, utterly embarrassed because I don’t know how much of my kicking and squealing he saw and heard. Judging by the smirk on his face, all of it. “Your dog was scratching on the door this morning, so I already took him out.”
My cheeks burn red, and I say, “Thank you.”
Jabbing his thumb over his shoulder, he chuckles and says, “Your neighbor with the basset hound and the good coffee talked my ear off for fifteen minutes about the neighborhood watch program she’s trying to organize. She wanted to know if I’d be staying with you for a while because she thinks I have what it takes to recruit members. I told her you were in for sure, and we’d work on everyone else later.”
“I hate you.” I throw my pillow across the room, but he closes the door before it makes contact with his face.
“No, you don’t,” he says as he steps away from the door and leaves my apartment.
Without my scheduled appointments with clients, my routine’s going to look different for the foreseeable future. This kind of change would normally give me massive amounts of anxiety, because I’m nothing if not a creature of habit. My life hasn’t varied at all in eight years, but like a domino effect, one by one, everything collapsed after I stepped into Talent’s office for the very first time only two months ago.
With my hair tied up and my running shoes double-knotted, I emerge from my room with the intention of running on the treadmill like I do every day. But outside, spring is bouncing into summer and the sun shines high in the sky.
I look down at Dog and ask, “Do you want to go for a run with me?”
Camilla hasn’t come out of her room, but the television is on and the glow from her candles seep from under the door. She’ll come out when she’s ready or before she dies from smoke inhalation from all her candles, and I’ll be here to toughen her up. The more she does it, the easier it’ll get. I’m just not sure I can sit back and watch her lose her spark like I did.
Clipping the leash to Dog’s collar, I walk him out the front door and squint against the hot summer sun before lightly jogging out of the apartment complex onto the cross street. The air smells like sea salt, fresh cut grass, and sprinkler water. Pollen causes my eyes to water, and I sneeze from forgotten allergies.
When was the last time I spent any amount of time outside? I