Page 23 of The One I Need
“What?” Jules asks. “Do you want me to take it back?”
I slap her hand as she tries to take the sandwich away from me. “Don’t you dare touch it.”
Jules slowly walks out of the office back to her desk as I read the note again.
If I wasn’t sure yesterday, I’m damn sure now.
I don’t know how he’s doing it.
And even more importantly, I don’t know why I’m not madder about it.
* * *
WEDNESDAY
“Delivery for Izzy McCall?”
I let out a groan as I look up from my computer and out the glass wall of my office to see a delivery guy standing at Jules’s desk, holding a basket wrapped in cellophane. We had made it all day without a delivery or any sort of surprise. I had hoped that Oliver got it through his head after two days of surprises without me reaching out to him that I wasn’t going to bite. Granted, I don’t have his number, but I’m smart and resourceful. I also have access to an IT department filled with computer geeks who know corners of the internet I didn’t know existed.
“What the fuck?”
Jules signs for it and takes it from him just as I get to her desk. “Excuse me! Can I ask who sent you?”
He just shrugs. “I was just told by my boss to deliver this here. But, I think I saw a card.”
He walks away and I rip the card that’s taped to the wrap.
You know how they say we only use 10 percent of our brains? I think we only use 10 percent of our hearts.
I fight the urge to roll my eyes at the classicWedding Crashersquote. And while I might be able to fight that, I can’t fight the smile that’s threatening to appear.
“What’s in here?”
I turn back to Jules, who is examining the contents of the basket. She sets it down on the desk, which is when the smile finally comes through.
Because Oliver got me a basket filled with popcorn, my favorite movie candy, a pink flower tucked inside, and, of course, a copy ofWedding Crashers.
“This man…” I say under my breath. Luckily, Jules doesn’t hear me. Or if she did she doesn’t react. Which is good, because I really don’t know what else there is to say.
Am I still annoyed? Yes. Am I less annoyed than I was on Monday? Yes. Am I going to go home tonight and eat every one of these Sour Patch Kids and watch this movie? Also yes.
I mean, he went to all this trouble, it would be rude of me not to.
* * *
THURSDAY
I hatethat every time there’s any sort of commotion around my office this week I’ve looked up to see if it’s a delivery from Oliver. I’ve never paid this much attention to who, or how many people, walk past my office every day. I swear this isn’t me. It’s like his corny charm and hurricane tongue have made me into some sort of pining girl.
I don’t pine. I don’t wait for men to call me. I don’t get giggly when scenes of a movie remind me of them.
Yet, here I am. Pining and giggling. Makes me sick.
I check the clock on my computer to see that it’s four forty-five, which means it’s technically fifteen minutes from quitting time, though I don’t remember the last time I left at five. Hell, most nights I’m lucky if I leave by seven. But you know what, fuck it. I don’t have anything that needs done right now and I can’t sit here any longer waiting on something that I shouldn’t be waiting for to happen.
I power down my computer and grab my bag, closing my door behind me.
“Where are you going?” Jules pops up from behind her desk. “Are you leaving? It’s not five!”
