it in more detail.
I wanted to see every part of her in more detail, from the way her face twisted in disdain to the way her lips parted when she didn’t realize she was staring. I saw the curiosity, desire, and excitement hinted at in those gorgeous green eyes. She seemed to be out of breath, and I could only hope that it had something to do with me.
Fuck, I’m not getting anything done, and now I’m hard thinking about her. I need to see her again. There’s no question. It should be easy enough, given her employer. My mind is already making the plans.
My entire life I’ve worked toward what I wanted. Laser focused. The office around me and the house that I own, and all the rich luxury that she seems to loathe are all results of my ambition. I pursue what I want. I reach all my goals. And my current goal is to see her again.
Because there’s something between us, and feeling that so quickly is a rarity. Yeah, I’m going to see her again. This time I’m going to find out her name. And I’m going to show her that all the things that come with this life aren’t so bad.
4
Justine
I groan as I round the stairway on the fourth floor. These older buildings don’t have elevators, and sometimes the grocery loads we have to carry are a bit too heavy for jogging up so many steps. And I can’t leave the bags sitting on the sidewalk because they’ll get snatched. I made that mistake once. Never again.
So now if it’s too heavy, I ferry them inside and then do it in parts, half the load up one set of stairs to drop them at the landing. I end up getting a full workout every time I do it, but it’s worth it for my clients. A lot of them are homebound with health problems, and the only way they get groceries is through me.
It’s worth a little bit of sweat.
Especially for Rose.
Finally, I drag the last of the of the bags to her door and knock.
“It’s already open, honey.”
Rose is in the kitchen when I open the door. Her walker is next to her, and she’s got a cup of tea for each of us ready to go. Like the badass she is. “How are you doing, Rose?”
“I’m fine—” She looks at me. “Maybe I should have made iced tea today, looking at that load.”
I smile. “Nah. That looks great. It’s just a little hot out there. The weather can’t make up its mind.”
Lugging the rest of the bags in to blessed air conditioning, I get started putting the cold stuff away before it all completely melts. And then the rest of it. “You sure you don’t need help?” Rose asks, already sitting down at the table. She says it sarcastically because every time she asks me, I vehemently tell her no, that this is what I get paid for. She still asks now, but with a smirk on her face because she already knows what’s going to happen and what I’m going to say.
“What tea do we have today?”
“Mint. I felt like something lighter was in order.”
“Sounds yummy.”
I finish putting the groceries away just the way that she likes them and then flop into the chair across from her.
“You work too hard, you know that?”
“On the contrary,” I smile. “I think I work the exact right amount.”
Rose rolls her eyes. “You say that now, but you’ll get to be my age and think that you should have worked a little less and lived a little more. You’re still doing all that activism stuff?”
I raise an eyebrow and add a little sugar to my tea. “Well, for now I’m fine. And yeah, got some of that coming up this week.”
Rose looks at me closely. The woman misses nothing, and is sharper than any ten people that I’ve met put together. She’s my favorite, but all my clients are like her. Hidden gems forgotten by the busy bustle of a city increasingly obsessed with luxury and money and everything that’s new.
It makes me sad. What are we all missing by just continually going to the next thing and the next thing and the next instead of slowing down and enjoying the world a little bit? The stories I’ve heard from Rose and my other clients are worth far more than I could earn with a much larger paycheck at some corporate job.
I’ve always known that