Holding on to Someday Page 11

  “Clara! Thank you for calling me back. You can probably guess the reason for my call today. You know you are my go-to girl,” he says.

  Great. Just what I don’t need.

  “What can I help you with sir?” I ask.

  “I need you here Monday morning. We just signed a new company in town who is having a bit of trouble getting things running on their own. They hired us to help get them ready for a big product launch. Of course, I immediately thought of you. I knew you would know exactly how to handle them. So I need you here soon.”

  At least this won’t affect my date. Whew, one hurdle taken care of, I think to myself.

  “Yes, sir. I will be there,” I tell him.

  “Great! I knew you would take care of it for me. You’re the best, you know?” he says, but it's more a statement than anything else.

  “I appreciate that, Mr. Johnston. It means a lot that you trust my judgment like you do. I’ll take care of them…no worries.”

  “I’ll have my secretary book the corporate suite for you and send the company’s files, so you’ll have time to prepare. I’ll see you bright and early Monday morning.”

  “See you then, sir,” and then he hangs up the phone.

  The good news is I don’t have to be in Virginia until Monday morning. The bad news is I have to prepare. This is a brand-new company I’m not familiar with at all, and I have LOTS and lots of reports to read. Ugh. How am I ever going to get it done in time, and pack, and fly out Sunday night? I shouldn’t have said anything to Brady about being grounded for a couple of weeks. It’s like I jinx myself every time I mention the words "not traveling."

  I’m not sure how I want to handle my pending date. I don’t want to cancel, but I don’t see how I can fit everything in either. These spurs of the moment meetings take hours and hours of preparation. This is why I’m a workaholic. Normally, an assignment would be a welcome distraction because I wouldn't have anything better to do. But, today my radar shows something better, and his name is Brady Reese. This is the first time I don’t enjoy the prospect of traveling because I would rather be spending time with the guy with dimples.

  An hour later, my phone dings from a text. I glance down, smiling when I see the sender’s name on the screen.

  Brady: That was the best lunch I’ve had in a very long time. Thank you for today. I’m looking forward to our “real date.” ☺

  I can’t believe he used a smiley face. I giggle as I type a response.

  Me: Me too. ;-)

  I add the winky face to the end of my text… hoping to make him smile too. At that moment, I decide I’ll stay up all night long if I have to. Whatever I have to do to get my work done, I’ll do it. There is no way I’m going to let this sudden trip spoil any plans I have with Brady. Now, if I can focus on my work for the rest of the day. Instead, I keep thinking about smiley faces and how my life might be getting ready to change. Big time.

  20

  Morning Mojo

  I am determined to work my butt off to get everything done for my impending trip. Brady calls me at 5:15 pm, evidently, as he is leaving his office. I can hear the smile in his voice when I answer my phone.

  “Hey, you…just wanted to check in to make sure you haven’t changed your mind yet,” he asks, even though I can tell he is kidding… at least I hope he is kidding.

  “And what makes you think I would change my mind?” I ask playfully.

  “Nothing. I just wanted an excuse to call you,” he responds. “So… I have a place I want to take you. Tell me how you feel about Italian food.”

  “I’m okay with Italian.” Thinking we could eat at McDonald’s for all I care, I assure him I don’t mind where we go.

  “Alright… Italian it is, but we are not going to Olive Garden. There is a quiet place just outside of town. It’s one of my favorites. Local, family-owned place. You will love it.”

  “Sounds fantastic!” I exclaim.

  “I’ll pick you up at your place around 6:30 tomorrow.”

  “I’ll be ready,” I tell him, wishing time would both pass at warp speed for the next 24 hours and slow down because I still have a ton to do to get ready and packed for my trip.

  “Have a good night, Clara,” he says.

  “Thank you, Brady. Bye.” I hit the END button on my phone.

  I pull a late night at the office. As I walk through the door of my apartment around 9:30 pm, I hear the muted ding of my phone inside my purse. I pull it out to see another text message from Brady.

  Brady: Wanted to say goodnight. Annnd ask if you will have coffee with me in the morning. :-) B

  Those darn smiley faces. How can I say no to that? He’s obviously thinking about me because he’s made an effort, now that he has my number, to contact me three times since we had lunch.

  Me: Sure. I need to go in early because I have another trip coming up, but I can meet you at 7:30

  Brady: I’ll be there waiting. At 7:30 ☺-B

  Me: See you in the morning then. Goodnight. ;)

  Exhausted, I flop onto my bed fully dressed. I hold my phone against my chest and fall asleep with a smile on my face.

  When I wake up in the morning, I look disheveled but pleasantly rested. I know what today holds, and I’m excited and dreading it all the same. Dreading it because I know I still have a ton to do, but excited that I get to see Brady as I start my day. I hop into the shower and quickly get ready.

  As I head out the door, I can’t remember the last time I’ve been so anxious to get to work. Approaching the Corner Café, I see Brady's already waiting outside on the bench. He’s early again.

  Standing, he greets me with a smile. “Good morning, sunshine.”

  I love his little endearments; I can't seem to get enough of them the past few days. He’s holding two cups, and he extends one to me saying, “Mocha latte for you.”

  I’m speechless.

  My mouth forms an “O” shape, but no words come out. He’s standing there with the cup extended to me, and I stare back at him. I see a look of uncertainty cloud his eyes.

  “Is that not the right kind? I can get you something different if you’d like. I just thought I remembered you ordering this the other day.”

  “No… of course not.” I stumble over my words. “I mean... Yes! Yes, that’s what I drink. No need to get anything else. Thank you.” I pause and look into his eyes. “I can't believe you remembered."

  He relaxes a bit after I take the cup from his hand. With a smile, he says, “I make mental notes of things that are important. Both times we’ve been here together that’s what you’ve ordered, so I felt like it was a safe choice,” he says.

  “That’s worth some major brownie points,” I respond with a wink.

  Tipping his head toward me, he says, “One for me. Check.”

  He makes an invisible check-mark in the air. A laugh escapes me, and I find that I love his sense of humor.

  “Have you been here long?” I ask. I’m sure he didn't plan to be at work this early today. However, the fact that he’s willing to get here earlier than me because he knows I have a busy day is sweet. He even remembers what kind of coffee I drink so he could have it ready for me… I have no words.

  “No, just got our coffees and sat down right before you arrived,” he tells me. “So you are heading out of town, huh? Can we sit for a few minutes?” he asks, gesturing toward the bench behind us.

  I feel myself deflate a little. We sit on the bench and watch the morning commuters walking by. This time of day the streets are flooded with people going to work. I sigh heavily, “Yes. I shouldn’t have said anything to you the other day about not having to go anywhere for a couple of weeks. I jinx myself every time I speak those words aloud. I fly out Sunday evening.”

  “Wow… that’s soon. Where're you heading to this time?” he asks.

  “Virginia. New company campaign launch. I always end up getting those clients,” I tell him.

  “Do we need to reschedule our date?” he asks.


  “NO!” I quickly answer. Calm down, Clara. I take a breath to compose myself, and in a calmer tone, I say, “No… tomorrow is fine. I worked late last night and got a lot done, and I have all day today and sometime tomorrow. It’s fine.”

  He’s looking at me, and I'm happy to see relief in his eyes. “Good…. I was hoping you would say that,” he says as he smiles behind his cup. All I can see are those dimples and those dark eyes. So handsome.

  We sit in silence for a few minutes, people watching. I like that we don’t feel the need to have a constant stream of conversation flowing. After a little while, I ask, “So do you have a busy day today?”

  “Nah… same ole 8-5 day. Nothing exciting happens until Saturday at 6:30,” he says looking straight out into the streets. I turn to look at him, and he darts his eyes toward mine, giving me a devilish grin and the cock of an eyebrow. I like his playful banter, and I find myself being the same way around him. This is fun.

  “Saturday? You got a hot date or something?” I play along.

  Without missing a beat, he says, “Yep. And she’s sitting right beside me.”

  I feel the heat rise up my neck and spreading across my cheeks. Butterflies start dancing in my belly, and I feel a swarm of emotions floating around inside of me. Brady turns to look at me right in the eyes, so I duck behind my coffee and smile sheepishly. I’m not embarrassed. I’m excited. He holds my gaze a few moments longer and then breaks the silence.

  “I know you need to get to work. Can I walk you to your office?” he asks. Standing, he extends his hand to help me rise. The gesture is sweet, and I want to know what his hands feel like, so I reach out my hand and place it on his. It’s so soft, and he gently wraps his fingers around mine as an electric shock passes through our touch. It’s noticeable enough that I let out a slight gasp as he locks eyes with me and smiles. I know he must have felt it too. Maybe it was static electricity. Nah… it had to be something else. I would have jerked back my hand if it stung or hurt. This was a pull, like energy pulling me to him through our touch.

  “Sure. I would love that,” I tell him.

  He lets go of my hand and reaches down to pick up my briefcase. He extends it out to me, and I grab it throwing the strap over my shoulder. I want to hold his hand again, but I settle for him placing his hand on my lower back to usher me toward the crowd of people walking down the sidewalk. He smiles, falling into step right beside me.

  It’s no time at all before we arrive at my building. I stop and turn to face Brady. “Well, this is me,” I say as I point over my shoulder.

  “Thank you for meeting me this morning, Clara. I know you have a busy day, but I enjoy my days much more when they start with you.”

  Annnnnnd…. Here comes the blush again. “Me too. And thank you for the coffee…again,” I say. He starts walking backward before he nods and turns with one last wave.

  I watch as he walks away. Before he's out of sight, I see him grab his phone from his pocket. I smile and inhale a deep breath of fresh air, and then enter into work mode. Concentration is necessary for the next eight…err 12 hours.

  21

  The First Real Date

  I’ve worked my butt off the past 36 hours preparing for my trip, but I don’t care if I have to stay up until 3 am to finish getting things ready. I have more important matters to tend to at the moment. I’ll always have the plane ride to tie up any loose ends as well. After showering for the second time today, I stand in the middle of my closet, with only a towel wrapped around me. I don’t have a clue what I’m going to wear. This restaurant could be fancy, or it might be low-key. I wonder what we will do after we eat. I want to make sure I’m versatile in my apparel choices. Standing in this closet, wondering about what to wear, makes me think about my first official date with Drew. I remember Marabeth throwing shoes at me while Julie pulled outfits from the closet, one after the other. Thinking about Julie makes me laugh a little. She was always so hyper while I got ready for my dates.

  Back to scanning my closet. Hmm…

  I finally settle on a pair of skinny jeans, sandals, and a loose button up shirt with a cami under it. Comfy, cute, looks nice but not too fancy. I sure hope this is okay. I’ve only seen Brady in a suit and tie, and I find myself very anxious to see what he looks like in casual clothes.

  I dry my hair and put on makeup. I’m not much of a primp, so it doesn’t take me long to get ready. It’s not even 6 o’clock yet, and I’ve got another 30 minutes to kill before Brady gets here.

  I surely can’t concentrate on work, so I head into the living room and flip through television channels. I can’t find anything I want to watch, so I turn off the TV and pick up my phone. I flip through Facebook for a bit, and then I look through Instagram.

  6:15

  Ugh.

  I get up and go back to the bathroom to check my lip-gloss and my hair. While slipping on my shoes, I hear a car door shut, and I do a little happy dance in the middle of my apartment before running to the door. Gathering myself and taking a deep breath of air, I’m officially ready for this night to get started.

  Knock-knock-knock.

  Even though I’m already standing at the door, I don’t want to open it right away because he literally just knocked. I count to 15.

  Longest. 15. Seconds. Ever.

  When I open the door, a huge bouquet of wildflowers greets me. Brady peeks around them and smiles. “Pretty flowers for the pretty lady,” he says and extends them out to me.

  “Oh, these are beautiful,” I say, as I take them from his hands.

  “Hey, Clara.”

  “Please come in,” and I motion him inside.

  What in the world, am I going to put these flowers in? I don’t even own a vase.

  “Your place is nice,” he says as I walk to the kitchen.

  “Thanks! I love it here. Have a seat while I put these flowers in some water.”

  Digging through cabinets… aha! I find a tea pitcher. It’s plastic of all things, but that’s about the only thing big enough or deep enough to hold them. I fill the container with water and place the flowers inside. As I turn around with the pitcher in my hands, I see Brady standing in the doorway with his hands in his pockets. Holy cow. He looks hot. How did I not notice this before?

  He’s wearing dark jeans and a button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to mid arm. I stand there for a minute drinking in the sight of him. Annnnd, of course, he’s going comment on my stare. Cue comment in five, four, three…

  “See something you like?” he says and laughs.

  “Oh, sorry. Um… yeah… uh… I’m just going to put these on the table.” Fumbling with words, I place the flowers in the center of my dining table.

  “A plastic tea pitcher? Really?” he says, looking at me in confusion.

  Busted. Rats.

  Shrugging I say, “Yeah… it was all I could find. I don’t usually keep flowers around here because I’m gone so much, and I don’t get flowers from anyone…like ever…so no need for a vase.” It’s sad hearing myself say it out loud, but it’s true.

  “Well, the next flowers I bring you will already be in water. And a vase.”

  I shrug and tuck my chin to my chest, shying away from the embarrassing conversation.

  “So, you want to give me the grand tour, or is that off limits?” he asks.

  “No… I mean… sure, I can give you a tour, but it’s not much.”

  “I would love to see where you spend time when you're not flying in the air,” he says, stepping closer to me. His presence alone is mouthwatering, and then I get a whiff of his cologne. I close my eyes and suck in the longest breath ever. Brady catches it because the corner of his mouth tips up.

  Focus, Clara.

  “Soooo… obviously, this is my kitchen/dining/laundry area. Not much cooking takes places over here,” I say, as I wave my hand toward the stove. Shrugging, I tell him, “I can cook; it’s just not much fun cooking for one. And I’m gone a lot.”

  “I know wha
t you mean,” he says. “I live off of take-out and frozen pizzas. Like the 10 for $10 kind of pizza.”

  “Ewe! Really? How can you eat those things?” I ask, scrunching up my nose.

  “Eh, they're not bad. It’s quick. And cheap,” he says matter of fact.

  Laughing; we walk back into the living room. “And here is the living room.”

  I keep walking down the hall. “This is the guest room,” I reach in to flip on the light.

  We turn to face the room across the hall. “And last but not least, my bedroom.”

  “Mmmmm… I like your room. Nice décor,” he says.

  “Fancy word coming from a man. Are you a closet-designer or something?” I playfully ask him.

  “Nah. I just appreciate nice things. And personally, I feel like your bedroom is a reflection of who you are.”

  He scans the room again, taking in every little detail. “Blue, yellow and a subtle hint of grey. I can see how this reflects you.”

  Confused as to how he can analyze a person from a bedroom, I’m curious to know more. “How exactly does this represent me? Please, do tell.”

  “Well, blue is like the color of your eyes. Yellow is like the color of your hair. Both colors are vibrant and full of life. They depict the day, and all that life brings to us each morning when the sun rises and begins a new day…the sky and the sun. And the hint of grey," he pauses a moment as if he is thinking. "It's the mysteriousness you hold.”

  I stare at him for a moment thinking about his analysis. It's pretty intense and very perceptive. “Huh. That’s deep. And intriguing.”

  “I try,” he says, smiling as he looks at me.

  “Now I’m anxious to see your bedroom,” I say before thinking about the words that just left my mouth.

  “You are, are you? Let’s not get too hasty now.”

  “Ohmygosh… that came out so wrong!” I cover my mouth, embarrassed. “I didn’t mean it that way… I meant….”