“I have not. But I will. I plan to see her at yoga tonight.”
“You need to talk to her. I think you’ll feel better once you do.”
“I know.”
Not wanting to risk the chance of running into Ben, who would likely arrive any minute, I told Jordan I had to go, then darted back down to my car, which was being held at the front. Ideally, I wouldn’t have had to deal with rush-hour traffic on my day off, but I knew there was no other way to get the letters because my bosses hadn’t given them to him before he left last night.
The drive home took a little less time, but it felt like an eternity with the envelope practically calling my name from the passenger seat. Rather than go back to my apartment, I decided I would stop at Starbucks. Not only did I want coffee but I was hoping that by being in public, I wouldn’t get too emotional about whatever they had to say in those letters.
After ordering a croissant and a grande caramel macchiato, I took a seat in the corner and flipped the envelope over and over in my hand.
I was terrified to open the damn thing, freaked out about what they might’ve said after they had some time to think about what was going on. But I knew I had to. I just wasn’t ready yet. So, I managed to procrastinate a little longer by eating my croissant and watching the other patrons milling about.
There were several people setting up laptops alongside their coffee, some looking to be settling in for the long haul. I briefly wondered if any of them were my bosses’ team members. It was possible, right? Since they were all remote, they might enjoy working in a Starbucks while they had their morning coffee. A change of scenery perhaps.
Or maybe one of them was one of Landon’s or Langston’s authors, writing their next bestseller.
That thought pleased me. I liked the idea of an author sneaking away from their normal writing spot to watch the world move around them. I glanced around, trying to figure who might be an author. I decided the young lady who looked a lot like me with her messy ponytail and lack of makeup. Her sweat pants were stylish, so at least she’d made a little effort.
It wasn’t until I’d finished my croissant and my coffee that I realized I was putting off the inevitable. I had to open the letters, had to know what their true feelings were so I could make a decision and get on with my life.
Because that was what it all boiled down to. After three months of playing around, my bosses were asking me to make a choice. I seriously doubted it was for my benefit either, because, until yesterday, I’d been perfectly content with the way things were going.
Okay, maybe not perfectly. But I couldn’t very well make any of my bosses fall in love with me and want a happily ever after, so one day at a time was all I had.
“Excuse me.”
I looked up when I heard a woman’s voice.
“Is this chair taken?”
I looked at the empty chair at my table, then around the space again. I hadn’t realized how crowded it had gotten and I suddenly felt overwhelmed by all the people.
“Actually,” I told her, getting to my feet and grabbing my trash, along with my envelope, “I was just leaving.”
“Thanks.”
With a quick nod, I headed out to my car, trying to think of a place to go where I could have some privacy but not be completely alone. I still didn’t want to go back to my apartment. Truth was, I was dreading what the letters would say and crawling into my bed and crying for the remainder of the day wasn’t something I looked forward to.
As I pulled out of the lot, I saw a sign for the lake and decided that was the perfect place to go.
Twenty minutes later, I was sitting on a secluded park bench watching joggers and walkers get in their morning exercise while the waves gently lapped at the shore.
“Now or never,” I muttered to myself, holding the envelope up and staring at my name scrolled across the front. It looked a lot like Landon’s neat, bold lettering. Or maybe Jordan’s.
My shoulders tensed as I carefully opened the seal, then pulled out four sheets of paper. They didn’t have names on them, so I wasn’t sure whose letter was whose. I figured that was a good thing. I would read whichever one I opened first. No bias.
I slowly unfolded the first paper, my eyes dropping to the bottom of the page to the signature.
I smiled because I’d opened Justin’s first. It seemed fitting since he was the first of my four bosses I’d actually spoken to on the day I showed up for my interview. I could still see his startled gaze when he looked at me.
