52. Colton
fifty-two
Colton
I t’s coffee break time at the garage, and the reception area is packed. Since Kiara’s been gone, croissants baked by Chris turn up on Monday and Wednesday mornings, brought by a rotation of residents. Sometimes—like today—Emma brings a basket of baked goods when she’s due to work on my books. Often, I know Kiara has been working her magic from overseas when it’s her recipes for muffins or cupcakes that appear in my shop, their smell as familiar as a sad country song. “You guys realize there’s a coffee shop in town, right? Easy Monday?” I half joke as I elbow my way to the coffee machine.
“We just came from there, hun,” Ms. Angela answers, her knitting needles clickety-clacking. “Wanted to check on the crocuses I planted last fall, and what you have going in there,” she adds, pointing her chin to the garage.
“Impressive,” Luke comments before taking a huge bite off one of Emma’s cookies. “Damn these are good,” he mumbles.
I raise my mug of coffee to the assembly and head back into the bay, Emma following me so we can go over a few pending items for the garage. “None of my business, but… the logo redesign? Was that really necessary?” she asks.
“Yup.”
“And-and-and… new sign, new t-shirts, mugs… That’s adding up. Just want to—”
“It’s abso-fucking-lutely necessary,” I bark. Over my dead body is Kiara coming back to something that makes her feel insecure.
“Colton. It wasn’t.” She crosses her arms. “I’m worried about you.”
There’s nothing to be worried about.
“Since Kiara’s been in Paris—”
“Lemme know what you think,” I interrupt her, pointing to the third bay. She falls in step behind me as I walk her to the project I’m currently working on.
Everyone seems worried about me, but I’m fine.
I’m just fine.
Keeping busy until Kiara returns.
If she returns.
I’m not a fool. I know the appeal of the world will be hard to resist for Kiara. And she deserves a huge, beautiful life. Celebrity. Anything she wants.
Me, I can offer her something. So I’m working on that while she’s gone. And if she returns, she’ll have… something I hope she likes.
“You haven’t told her anything?” Emma asks, surprised, as we round Luke’s Mustang in the second bay. Since the exhaust scare, he brings it in constantly to have us check for shit. Makes Merritt’s day every time.
My gut clenches. At the beginning, Kiara and I would speak several times a week. Now, Sunday’s the only day I’m certain to hear her voice. She says she’s tired, and I can tell she is. She says the workload is brutal, and I believe that too. So much so that she hasn’t really visited Paris.
But she says she’s learning a lot, and she loves it. And that too, I believe.
There’s nothing I can do. It’s the way it was going to be. The way it should be.
“Nope, and no one better tell her anything.”
“She’s gonna love it,” she says, then peeks inside. “Oh, Colton—that looks awesome too.” She clasps her hand in front of her mouth to keep herself from shrieking.
I wish I could tell Kiara what I’m working on, but I don’t want to ruin the surprise. Or seem like all I’m doing is trying to influence her while she’s still in Paris. But fuck do I wish I could make her feel all the love I have for her, from the other side of the ocean.
And I’m not trying to influence her. I’m just being me. This is what she gets with me.
Fuck but I want her.
“When is she coming back?” Emma asks, as if it was a done deal.
I shrug. “End of the month, unless she gets a job offer right away.”
She frowns. “She’s not gonna do that.”
“She might. That’s the whole point.”
“I thought the whole point was for her to beef up her pedigree, so to speak, so she would get the backing of a bank. That’s all she and I have been talking about, before she left.”
“I don’t want to force her hand. If she gets a job offer that’s too good to pass on, I don’t want her to not take it on account of…” I’d wave toward my project, but what I really mean is “me.” And yet I don’t know how I’ll live without her if she does.
“How long will you be in Paris?” she asks, confusing me, then adds, “Ohmygod you’re going to propose in Paris, right? Please say that’s your plan. I can help you strategize. And Willow can help.”
“I’m not going to Paris,” I groan.
“What?” Emma exclaims as I turn around to get to work.
I can picture it. Me in my walking boots and leather jacket, on the streets of Paris. Rain falling down my face. Her in spiky heels, wearing some pretty dress she would have bought recently, smiling sadly at me under a cute umbrella, telling me she has other plans.
No thank you.
The whole point of Kiara going to Paris is for her to find herself. Explore other options—better options.
“She needs to know that you want her,” she states.
I chuckle. “I think I’ve made that clear.” If phones could blush, mine would be perpetually crimson.
“It’s not just about sex , you know,” Emma spits, looking at me like I’m the one who started this weird conversation. “She needs to know you want to make plans with her. For the future. You sure you don’t want to tell her what you’re doing?”
“Certain.” Last thing I want to do is bribe her emotionally. Kiara needs to feel free to live her life the way she wants.
“You should propose,” Emma states, crossing her arms.
“I’m with her!” Luke shouts from the second bay, where he accompanied Orson to look at the undercarriage of his Mustang.
“I will propose. Eventually.”
Emma rolls her eyes. “See, that’s what I’m talking about. Women want to be wanted. Feel wanted. No matter what they say, they want a ring that says someone’s…” She huffs. “That kind of thing means something to women. Kiara included.”
It would mean something to me too. When Kiara comes back, I’m asking her to marry me. I’ve missed her too damn much. It doesn’t make sense to spend another minute with her as just my girlfriend.
Emma stomps away, mumbling something about having work to do. I start working too, my thoughts staying on Kiara.
From the outside, it looks like I changed her life. Supposedly rescued her from living in her car. Found her a job. Helped her with other things.
But she’s who rescued me. From being removed. From trying not to care about the people I should care the most about. Behind her tough attitude, she’s all sweetness and wanting to make the world a soft, kind place, when it’s been so hard on her. She made me see how wrong I was to avoid conflict. “I’m not gonna propose when she’s across an ocean,” I say, mainly for myself.
“And why not?” Luke asks, suddenly materializing where Emma was. “I could write you a song for her.”
I smile at that idea. Luke’s become a good friend. But when I’m proposing, it’ll be in my words, and in my voice. It won’t be Hollywood-worthy. But it’ll be me. One hundred percent me. Simple.
“Yo, Colt. You got a minute?” Chris calls from the reception area. “Holy shit! That looks awesome,” he says, getting on his tiptoes. He rubs his three-day scruff. “She’s gonna love it.”
“Be right there,” I say, wiping my hands.
“So, listen,” he says when I join him, “remember when you guys brought a bunch of local ingredients to me for the baking competition in Boston?”
“Uh-huh?”
He rocks back on his heels like he’s super happy with himself. “I’m thinking we should do the same for Kiara.”
“Really?”
“That’s a great idea,” Ms. Angela pipes up from her corner.
“It was actually Annabel’s idea. She called me,” Chris says.
At that moment, Willow comes in to drop off her mom whose car we’ve been working on.
“What was Annabel’s idea?” she says, handing her mother a cookie and taking one for herself.
“Annabel thinks we should send some local ingredients to Kiara for her capstone project,” Chris says.
She makes a face. “Are you sure that’s allowed?”
“Annabel suggested it.”
I trust Annabel. If she thinks it’s a good idea, I’m all for it. “I wouldn’t know where to start,” I confess, crossing my arms.
“I’ll handle it,” Chris says. “I started talking to local farms, and I’m brainstorming with Annabel what to bring her.”
“She’s partial to maple syrup,” I answer right away. “Wait— bring her ?” I ask right as Alex comes in and wraps herself under my cousin’s arm. She’s really showing now, and the vision of them derails my thoughts for a beat. I want this with Kiara.
Chris squints. “We think you should bring the stuff to her.”
How did I not see that coming? I rub my cheek. “I dunno, man.” I don’t want to impose on her. Break her routine, her concentration. There’s also a small part of me that’s not a big fan of being the bull in a china shop, but I can deal with a little humiliation.
“Colton,” Alex says, “you need to show her she means something to you.”
“Uh-huh,” Ms. Angela says.
I blink. Is she for real? “She knows that!”
“I’m with them on this one, Colt,” Willow says. “You’ve come this far, what’s a little plane ride?”
“Yeah, boss, what’s some contraband for the love of your life?” Orson chimes in, coming out of nowhere.
“Told you you got to show her!” Emma yells from my office.
“What if I don’t bring the right stuff?”
“You leave that part to me,” Chris says, tapping my shoulder.
“I’ll start a collection for the plane ticket!” Willow says. “Echoes first.”
Ms. Angela sets her knitting needles down to get on her phone. “On it!”
“Great!” Willow says, then empties a box of tissues, writes Help Colton Bring Kiara Home on it, and sets the improvised collection box on the counter.
“Wow-wow-wow. Why’re you writing that? I thought this was to help her make whatever she needs to do for her final exam with her favorite stuff.”
Willow tilts her head. “Aww. Is that what you thought?” She glances at Emma who’s coming out of my office. “Isn’t that cute?”
Emma shakes her head. “Men are so naive, it’s borderline sad,” my accountant drops as she takes a cookie before returning to work.
Willow takes a deep breath and stares at me like I’m a little slow. “This is not to help her ace an exam that’s gonna take her away from us. This is to show her that we love her, and miss her, and she better get her ass back here or she’ll regret it for the rest of her life.”
I cross my arms. “Not sure about this, guys.” If this is the intention, Kiara is going to see right through it. But I look out the window, and Chris is on the phone, no doubt talking to Annabel. Ms. Angela is already fielding questions on Echoes, and Luke folds and slips a bill in the collection box.
This is no longer in my hands—I’m just a willing puppet. I spend the next couple of days fine-tuning the project in my garage.