“Doubt it. She’s eating for two. Go get your own food.”
“But she brought ice cream.”
I laughed. “It’s definitely not for you, Jack. Tread carefully.”
We said goodbye and I closed my laptop, submitting to the fact that I wasn’t going to find a place tonight. I had things to do and places to be, and if I didn’t get off my ass and start getting ready soon, I wouldn’t get there.
Ginny, Roman, Peter, and I all had plans to head back to Skip’s for a night out on the town. I wouldn’t spoil it by drinking too much this evening. I wanted to be fully present of mind so I could enjoy every second with them. They were my family and it would be the first time Peter spent quality time with my friends.
I was equally as nervous as I was excited.
I spent the next hour picking out a cute black dress and strappy neon pink shoes. Usually, I didn’t like to stand out too much but tonight felt like a reason to celebrate. The last couple of weeks had been rough after Peter’s father’s passing. His moods were low, and grief hit him in waves, so we’d spent a lot of time lounging in his cabin, watching movies, cuddling on the sofa, and just being close to each other.
It had been his suggestion to go out and do something fun. I jumped at it.
I called a cab to come pick me up in twenty minutes. En route, I would pick up Roman and Ginny. Then we’d meet Peter at the bar so he could drive his truck and drive us all home at the end of the night.
Like every time I had plans with Peter, I couldn’t wait to see him. My day at work had passed with agonizing slowness as I thought about getting up on the dance floor with him and feeling his hands on my back as we swayed to the music.
Once I’d done my hair and makeup, I stared at my own reflection. “No tequila tonight, woman. You can’t handle it and you know that. Stick to the light stuff. The safe stuff. No bathroom of one-person pity parties.”
Usually, I was pretty good when I went out but I couldn’t deny that I was feeling a bit low about having to move out of my dream home. I stopped and looked around the suite that would only be mine for the next two months and sighed heavily. It had been a good home to me. I hated to think about how hard moving day was going to be.
My friends, especially Hop who always had my coffee ready, would no longer be just a quick walk away down a series of hallways anymore. I wouldn’t get as much time with them because I wouldn’t be on the property as often.
Peter was aloof about the whole thing. Perhaps he didn’t realize how big of a deal this was to me. He’d been optimistic about me finding a place and tried to ease my stress with encouragement. It only worked a little bit. He was also very supportive and kept telling me that maybe this was the change I needed and was ready for.
If he was the one enjoying the five-star accommodations, I doubted he’d still say that.
Regardless, his heart was in the right place.
When I left my suite, I bumped into a young man from an island delivery service toting a massive square, flat package down the hall. He looked up at me, his brow creased with exertion and glistening with sweat, and looked down at the shipping label on the package. “Are you Ms. Katie Smithe?”
“That’s me,” I said, slowing to a stop. The echo of my heels striking the floor died around us.
“I have a delivery for you.”
I frowned. “I didn’t order anything.”
“Well, then someone else ordered it for you. Do you need me to carry it to your room?”
He was a little dismissive, but I ignored the comment and walked him back to my suite. I opened the door and he brought it in. I thanked him as he propped it up against the back of my sofa and took his leave.
I stared at the package. It was most definitely a picture of some sort. It was roughly four feet tall and three feet wide.
A familiar size.
I began tearing through the paper until I got to the plastic wrap underneath. Taped to the front of it