Page 106 of The Romantic Agenda
Malcolm takes her hand. This could have been much harder. They could’ve shouted and cried and poured their bleeding hearts out, but that’s never been them. Minus a ten-year-long miscommunication mishap, they’ve always been like this. Back and forth. Open and honest.
Until they lost themselves.
Malcolm continues, “Who you are now is much better than that frozen, idealized image I’ve held on to for too long. You’re my best friend. And business partner. And general light of my life. Now that everything’s out in the open, we owe it to each other to be who we know we are.”
Thirty
FRIDAY
The weather report said it’d be curiously chilly for a summer night.
After tearing her closet apart because she simply hasnothingto wear, Joy calls Grace for help. They settle on a red bodycon dress with a plunging neckline and a black double-breasted swing coat. Her jewelry is limited to earrings—medium-sized diamond clusters—and star hairpins pulling her braids back on the left side.
Standing on the sidewalk, Joy shivers a little, bouncing up and down in her black wedge heels while waiting for Fox to answer the door. The glass windows are covered with newspaper on the inside, but the front door already has its window sticker: Fox’s company logo withMonahanWoodlandin a classic script.
Fox finally opens the door, wearing a gray button-down shirt, black vest, and dark pants. Joy’s so surprised at the sight of him, she laughs in appreciation. “Hey, hey andwow. Look at you.” He dressed up for her. She’s sure of it.
“Hi,” he rumbles, and invites her in. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you wait. I was in the back.” He closes the door, locking it and leaving the key there.
The front area is one large open space with items displayed in thematic sections—tables together by size, chairs in sets or singles, cabinets, drawers, mirrors, and artistic wood carvings and sculptures.
Joy bends at the waist to inspect a wood carving of a sea turtle coasting on some waves. “Did you make all this?”
“A good portion of it. I’ve contracted with a couple of local woodworkers to sell their stuff here too.”
“This is incredible, Fox.” She looks at him, awestruck. “You should be really proud of yourself.”
“Hmm.” But he’s smiling. “Let me give you the tour. This is the showroom, I guess. I don’t have a better name for it. There’ll be someone out here during business hours.”
“You have staff?”
“I have a sister and volunteers, for now.”
“Gotcha.” Joy laughs.
Fox guides her to the left into a room about half the size of the showroom packed with tables, equipment, and a projector screen. “This is the classroom. I’m going to teach here every other Saturday. Nothing major—a couple of rotating items for fun. You know how you can go take a pottery class? Same idea. They’ll get to make something small to take home with them at the end of class.”
“If you’re trying to impress me, it’s working.”
They leave the classroom, proceeding back the way they came and straight past the showroom. “This is the storage room, for overflow, duplicates, returns, that kind of thing. I was thinking about making it into a small break room at some point.”
It’s much smaller than the other two rooms, with all kinds of items haphazardly strewn about. Fox leads her to the back of the shop, where there’s a door propped open. “And this is the private back area.”
Joy stops in the doorway, eyes wide and feeling mighty suspicious. Three circular wooden tables with two chairs each are spread out under a canopy. Everything is covered in white string lights and what has to be hundreds of mini multicolored flowers—wound around the tent poles, hanging from the ceiling like wisteria, and sprinkled all over the ground.
She narrows her eyes. “What’s all this? This is very un-Fox-like.”
“That’s the point.” Fox is standing in the middle of the canopy. “I’m not very romantic. I don’t... This isn’t...” He huffs in frustration. “Speeches and talking about my feelings aren’t really my style. But very, very quickly you changed a lot for me, Joy. I know you love Malcolm.” He pauses, rubbing his palms along the sides of his pants. “So I’m here to plead my case.”
“Your case?”
“For why I think you should be with me.”
Joy’s hand shoots out, gripping the back of the nearest chair. She covers her mouth with her free hand to make sure she doesn’tembarrassherself because she’s absolutely on the brink of losing it. This is so close to Alleged Romantic Bucket List item number three she might burst into tears.
“Umm.” Fox wipes his forehead with the back of his hand. “I’m a little nervous. Bear with me, please. Summer recommended I write everything down first.” He pulls out a piece of paper from a dark blue journal sitting on the table next to him.
Joy is going to faint. She’s going to keel over from too muchstimulation. Pulling out the chair she’s already holding, she carefully sits down and places her hands in her lap.
