27 – The Missing Piece
Jessie
Casey was up at 6am, pulling herself from my arms, letting me sleep as she snuck around to get ready for another day of taking every single fucking class at the studio. I didn’t need to be at the shop to relieve April until 11am, so I made a coffee, locked up, and headed for Karvelas Media. I hadn’t been to Noah’s office yet, the modern space located on the 13th and 14th floor of a corporate building in Midtown East. Clean lines, exposed brick, with modern-industrial accents. The space looks exactly like what I’d pictured.
The receptionist points me in Noah’s office’s direction and I head that way, not really paying attention to the people, but rather lost in thoughts of a specific auburn ray of sun and how she smiled at me as she kissed me this morning, the sound of her laugh as I tried and failed to drag her back to the bed, lost in the confusion of how all of this feels. When I lost my mind for a few moments and asked if I was going to see her again tonight, she had informed me she had a date with Rosie Garcia that was non-negotiable unless she was to be fired as a best friend. I was grateful because we agreed to slow, and slow felt like the opposite of how I was traveling. I really need to put some space between her and my heart, but I am also bummed because… well, being with Casey is the only time I feel at peace.
“Jessie? What are you doing here?” Caleb queries, delight being the surprising undertone of the question. I was so busy twisting through my thoughts and staring at the floor, I didn’t see him coming.
“Came to have a chat with Noah about the shop.”
“Sick! What are you doing later?”
I shrug and continue to walk in Noah’s direction, Caleb on my tail. “Come to Bozzelli’s with me.”
“You are always out. Have you ever just enjoyed a night in?” I question, but without my usual annoyance, and when I glance across at him, I can’t work out whether his confusion is at my tone or my question.
“Well… no. But why would I hang out at my house alone when I could be warming someone’s bed?” he retorts and winks at me. Rolling my eyes, I come to a stop at an office door and see Noah’s large frame hunched over and looking seriously at his computer screen. Where I stop at the door, Caleb strolls in and plants himself in a chair across from Noah.
“Picked up a stray,” he states and Noah’s gaze lifts to mine, an instant smile hitting his face.
“JJ, what’s up, man! To what do we owe the pleasure?” His usual arrogance is firmly in place as he leans back in his chair, an arm thrown over the back, and he gestures to the chair next to Caleb. Doing my best to put on a smile, I make my way over, sitting down in the deceptively comfortable chair.
“Actually, wanted to talk about the café. Maybe look at doing an online store as part of the website?” His eyes light up and he leans forward on the desk.
“Absolutely! When did you want to launch?”
“Sooner the better. How long would it take?”
He rubs at his jaw, the light never leaving his eyes as he looks to his computer a minute before coming back to me.
“Could have it up and running in a couple of weeks. Building the stock in might take a bit at first, but once the base of it is in, it’ll be simple to compile.”
“Can we have it staff run? Then I can have the girls add in any new stock we get?”
“Easy. You offering shipping?”
“If we can?”
“Done. What brought this on?” he questions, but the excitement never leaves him and I can’t help but soak it up, making me buzz with a similar feeling. Excited to grow, excited to try something new and get somewhere with the shop.
I tell him about my chat with Ethan, and both he and Caleb decide to add their two cents in for ideas about new marketing campaigns.
“You could host author spotlights, pair it with a coffee that matches their book, even host it the week of their release and run a special. That’s something that’d work even if you don’t get the actual authors in,” he provides, and for the first time, I see the business-minded Caleb. The focused, driven, and determined guy who runs the sales team for a serious company. Respect settles deep, and I nod at him appreciatively.
Hope.
That’s what the buzz is. It’s the same sensation I had when Casey smiled at me this morning, and the same feeling I got when Ethan offered to help me. The way Noah soaks up this idea and the way Caleb is bustling with energy has me feeling… hope.
I sit in my reading chair, staring at the text. At the one word that threatens to bring down every wall I’ve tried to keep up around me where Casey is concerned.
I could fall really hard here. I really can’t tell if this is the fun Casey just being her usual cheeky self. Or is this Casey falling for me, too?
What are we doing?
My hand raises to rub at the pain in my chest, confused and somehow also feeling lighter. But, I leave the message thread on read to stop myself from saying a whole bunch of shit that would get me into trouble. That will spin us out of control where the only person twisted and bound is me, as I watch the hope I am desperately trying to cling to gallop into the sunset as her Prince Charming sweeps her off her feet.
Pulling my attention back to my laptop, I slip my phone onto do not disturb and get lost in the world of words. The ones trapped in my mind, begging to find their place on a page. The story churning in my mind amongst the pain, madness, and despair.
The only parts of joy within the deepness of my mind these days seem to be the parts taken up by Casey. Casey Moira. The guiding star. Fitting really, which is what I had barely told her the night I saw that M embossed on her bag. That she is the star in the sky, high above the sea. Meant to guide lost sailors home. In some other forms of the legend, it is a sign of hope that rain will come and free the land from drought. Without even really trying, she has guided me from my misery, helping me find my way back to myself, to start feeling whole again. Giving me hope that there is something out there that could be wholly mine and bring peace and joy. Even if it isn’t Casey who ends up being that person, I am suddenly not completely closed off to the idea of letting someone in again.
Maybe.
Of course, I couldn’t tell her any of this. So maybe I wouldn’t tell her. Maybe I could put all the things I want to say into fiction. Give the characters that live in my mind the happy ever after I would likely never have for myself.