The False Flat

CHAPTER 35

LIFE REALIZATION #15: CARAMEL AND PUMPKIN BELONG TOGETHER

“What are you doing?” I asked as I came into Grant’s kitchen the next morning, dressed and ready for work. I’d spent a third night in his guest bedroom because after dinner at Hal’s, I’d fallen asleep on his couch. I woke up to him carrying me down the hallway sometime in the night. I didn’t let him know I was awake; I just enjoyed being in his arms. Then, he’d tucked covers under my chin, stood beside the bed for several seconds, pulled the covers back like he was going to join me—hooray—then groaned and retucked the sheets around my shoulders. He’d leaned down and kissed me softly on the forehead, then quietly walked out and closed the door, leaving me alone in the dark.

He ran his hands over the large map in front of him on the circular table. He looked better, and after talking to Hannah, I felt much better. I had a list of books she’d recommended, which she’d said would supplement our treatment plan (one to two office visits a week) and help me better understand my issues. Life was looking up.

“The true question is, What will we be doing?” he replied to my earlier question. His finger traced the wriggly-edged semicircle he’d drawn that extended from the southern part of Tennessee and dipped into the northern part of Alabama.

“You’re planning a ride?” My finger followed his along the route, ending with a slow caress down the side of his hand. His finger automatically curled around mine. “When?”

“Ten days from now. Deanna and William are both free. I’ve already cleared it with them.”

I ignored the fact that he’d already talked to William and Deanna about this. While the illness shouldn’t be an issue in ten days, his back issues might be. “I don’t know. Do you think—”

“I’m tired of thinking. I need to be back on Gaia. She cried last night when I put her back in the garage. Okay, maybe that was me. But life is short. All we have is today. All we have is ...” He waited for me to finish.

“Right now,” I said, pulling my hand out of his and curling my leg under me as I sat in a chair beside him that looked like it had been spit out from a tree in the forest.

“It’s only a weekend, so it shouldn’t interfere with your business.” His finger brushed my chin, pride shining in his eyes. Somewhere inside me, a cup was filling, one that had been empty for so long. This man was on my side.

“If anything, it’ll enhance the business,” I said cheerily, loving this moment, the two of us planning a trip together, like a real couple. “You know what riding does for me.” The map crinkled when I scooted it toward me. “It’s overnight?”

He beamed as he nodded. His skin was still a little yellow, and I wondered how I hadn’t caught the bug. Something that turns your skin yellow must be vicious.

“We’ll ride all day,” he went on. “About eighty miles in, we’ll make camp in Franklin State Forest on the Cumberland Plateau.” He pointed to the area on the map. “Then we’ll ride back the next day.” His finger trailed the return trip back to the Walmart parking lot in Manchester, where we would start and end the ride. I smiled because this wasn’t far from our campsite at Bonnaroo.

This was going to be good. This was going to be great.

“Okay, we’ve got a ton to talk about,” Erin said as soon as I walked into the office building an hour later. “I’m set up in the conference room again today, as I need more space. Your first meeting rescheduled for two o’clock this afternoon, which was when we were supposed to be having our weekly meeting, but I moved it up to now.”

Weekly meeting?

“Can I get a coffee first?” I’d had a sex dream last night that involved Grant and the caramel pumpkin crumble coffee they serve right outside my office doors. I hadn’t remembered the dream until I smelled coffee, and now I needed it before anything else happened.

“There’s already a coffee on your desk, and we need to talk about this whole monkey circus extravaganza.”

“Do those words belong together?”

“The Lady Mama event is on for next weekend. I totally thought she was bananas when she said her monkey was going to be reading palms at this Halloween thing, but since it’s an exotic-pet adoption for wealthier-than-sin people, it kinda works. I made a few Canva posters, she tweeted them, did a TikTok video, and an Insta feature, and we have a ton of wealthy exotics on your schedule. We need to show face. These people are nuts and loaded and might be in costume, which means we’ll need costumes.”

I’d forgotten all about this. “Next weekend? I can’t.” Bless Grant and his overnight ride.

“The twenty-eighth?”

I nodded.

Her face said it couldn’t fathom my response; her mouth said, “You have to.” Well hello, bossy.

I almost wanted to give in to her for showing such gumption. “Grant’s got this whole weekend ride thing planned. He’s really excited.” And we’d just done a marketing event.

“Can’t you do it another time?” She looked irritated. I’d never seen her irritated. “There’s a lot of potential here.”

I shuffled through my bag, pulled out paperwork. “Here.” I handed the papers to her. “I need a partner. And you can go to the thing this weekend.” It was a her event, not a me event. And we’ve just done an event.

Her eyebrows kissed as she read over the paperwork. “What ... are ... you ... saying?”

I smiled. “I’m saying I know you’d love to have your own clients, and I want you to be my business partner. You slayed the event last weekend, your organization rivals mine, and clients love you. I would still be struggling if it wasn’t for you. You’re the most overqualified assistant, and it feels weird calling you one when you work as hard as I do. This business is rightfully yours. Now, let’s make it official.”

She moved the hand that had been clasped over her mouth and wiped at the tears on her cheeks. “I don’t know what to say. It’s a dream come true, but ... I can’t afford the classes, the tests. I’ve looked into it and—”

“I’ll cover everything. It’s a good investment. I know. I’m a financial planner.”

She laughed through tears. I wanted her to stop crying.

Then she lunged at me, wrapped me in another tight squeeze, and said, “We do make a good team, don’t we? But are you sure?”

“You trust my business expertise, right?”

“Of course. I—”

“I’m sure. Now, you catch them, and I’ll reel them in. And use those social media skills to find us a new assistant.”

She squeezed me again and let out a noise that hurt my ears. “I won’t let you down.” She jumped up and down and headed out the door, but then immediately returned. “I totally forgot about the rest of our meeting!”

I gestured to the chair across from my desk. “By all means, update me.”

“Okay. First, your mother called again. We’ve got a WeWork gathering with everyone next week to meet the new lawyer moving into the last office space on the floor. I got married. You need to look at the brochures Michelle created and decide on our name, which might change since I’m going to be your partner!” She squealed again. “I’m moving out this Sunday. And we already talked about the palm-reading monkey, which I’ll handle while you go bike riding, so I think we’re all set.”

She got up to leave.

Back that thing up. “Erin! Did you say you got married?”

“Shh.” She flopped back down, a torn expression on her face. “I haven’t told anyone. My mom would flip if she knew, which is why we’re telling everyone else that we plan to get married in six months.”

“Married?” I was stuck on that word. “Beau? Or another guy you’ve known longer than ...” I counted back to the party. “Four—”

“Four days. I know. It’s outrageous, right? It is.” She was pacing, throwing her hands up as she walked back and forth. “I’m kind of freaking out, but we have this connection, and he’s so stinkin’ cute and he jokingly asked me to marry him after we had the hottest sex ever, and then we started talking about values and goals and hopes and dreams, and the next day ... we did it.”

Her rapid-fire speech, coupled with the content of said speech, left me stunned silent for a full ninety seconds. Spend four days in Grant’s guest room and a lot happens, except sex in Grant’s guest room. Didn’t she know the divorce statistics? The US divorce rate was somewhere north of 50 percent: 750,000 divorces each year, and that number was probably significantly higher for people who’d only known each other for four days.

“I don’t know whether to be happy for you or smack you or question my decision to partner with you.”

She pointed at me. “I won’t let you go back on that. We’re committed.” She put her hands in her hair. “Like me and Beau.” Then she spun back into the chair. “We probably should’ve waited, but why? I mean, when you know, you know, right? It feels right. Even when I’m panicking as I say it all out loud, it still feels right. We know each other better after four days than a lot of people do when they get married. We’ve talked about the hard stuff. And you wanna know the best part?”

I raised my eyebrows. The sex?

“I’m really, really happy. And you’ve made me happier. Houston firing me and my moving back to Nashville were two of the best things to ever happen to me. And you get your house back!”

That little tidbit didn’t make me as happy as I thought it would. I liked living with Erin. And my heart hurt thinking about losing Hulk and that tiny little paw that found its way to my leg while we watched TV together.

We finished up the details of the meeting, hugged again, and, as soon as she closed the door to my office, her words echoed in my mind.

When you know, you know, right?