Page 64 of New Girl in Town
“I don’t know if I can do it,” I told her with a shake of my head.
“I get that things feel mixed up but you just need to let it settle. You like Grant a whole hell of a lot. I haven’t seen you like this since college. You know that I’m in your corner, but I don’t want you to make a quick decision you’ll regret later.”
I drummed my fingers on the table. “Fair.”
I wasn’t even sure what I wanted to do or what I would do around him. Right now I didn’t trust myself enough to be with him as a girlfriend, as a lover, not when I’d spiraled so quickly into the headspace I had been in with Dylan.
I need time to get back on solid ground and regroup, but maybe Melinda was right. Maybe in time I would be ready again, and Grant had said he’d wait, hadn’t he?
“Don’t stress out so much, Martínez.” She gave me a smile and refilled my glass of wine. “You’re overthinking something that will happen whether or not you drive yourself crazy over it.”
“I hate it when you’re right,” I said, picking up my wine glass and earning a laugh from her. She smiled at me and I found myself returning it. I was with my best friend, and things would take care of themselves if I was patient.
I could do patient. There was nothing left but to let it settle and enjoy tonight with my friend.
I left Melinda’s with my spirits lifted and a new resolve to listen to myself when it came to Grant. There was no rushing things, now was there? I walked up my stairs not caring if he heard, because we’d agreed on space and that meant not tip-toeing around my apartment like a cat burglar.
But the second I hit the top of the stairs I wondered what part of being friends and waiting on me entailed a surprise bouquet of flowers. Expensive flowers, at that.
Sitting in front of my door was a huge, gorgeous collection of blooms that filled the hall with their sweet fragrance. Bending, I picked up the bouquet and sighed when I saw a card tucked into them. I let myself into my apartment, arms full of the flowers, wondering what Grant had written on the card. Setting them on the table, I plucked the card up and opened it to see a single word.
Love
My eyebrows shot up. Love? Why would he send me this with this card so soon after our conversation? It didn’t make sense or follow his personality. I pulled out my phone and texted Melinda.
I came home to a bouquet of flowers at my door and a card that just said love on it. What am I supposed to do with that?
Her response came back at lightning speed, and I was grateful she was never without her phone in hand.
He’s young.
But still, we had that conversation yesterday.
We all did silly things when we were young and in love. He thinks it’s romantic and swoony, which it kind of is, but I get why you’re frustrated. Just don’t bring it up.
I shouldn’t say anything?
Do you want to have that convo?
I winced. She had me there. I did not want to go there just yet.Yeah, okay.
Text me updates tomorrow if you get serenaded tonight.
I rolled my eyes at the kissy face that accompanied the text, and sent her a quick goodnight before I tossed my phone onto the counter and turned to survey the flowers on my table. There were orchids, roses, and hydrangeas, all expensive flowers. I hadn’t thought a bouquet like this would be up Grant’s alley or to his taste, but then again...he was a Bradford and I hadn’t seen that coming either now, had I?
I sniffed the air, and though the scent of flowers was pleasing I found it a little heavy now. I wrinkled my nose, walking to the window and cracking it to let in fresh air before I went on to bed. Melinda was right: I wouldn’t bring up the flowers, and I would continue on as if nothing had happened, and with any luck so would Grant.
The next morning I awoke to snow. Not just any snow, but a thick covering of it, at least a foot deep. Slipping my new snow boots on and a thick coat perfect for the cold, I was grateful Grant had taken me shopping all those weeks ago, especially when I walked out my door and saw the full effect of the surprise winter storm. My flats would have been ruined and I no doubt would have fallen on my way to work.
Sporting my new weather appropriate clothes, I marched toward my car. Now all I had to do was dig my car out and I would be a real Coloradan. When I turned the corner toward the parking lot beside the apartment building I froze, because my car was shoveled out. There was hardly a speck of snow to be found.
I stared it hard, wondering what magic was responsible for my road-ready car, when the other tenants’ cars didn’t look half as good. I was still staring at it when Grant came striding around the corner with a snow shovel in hand.
He stopped when he saw me standing beside my car. “Good morning.”
“Morning,” I greeted back, shifting in front of my door while I willed myself not to bring up the damn flowers perfuming up my entire apartment.
“Going to work?” he asked, stopping a few feet away from me and leaning against the snow shovel, the perfect picture of a mouthwatering mountain man stance. I turned away from him with a jerky nod.
