Chapter 42
“Small tweaks, my ass,” Willow muttered while she worked. The last-minute changes Mr. Sorensen had requested were neither small nor tweaks. She’d been at this for an hour and wasn’t even one-third done. This wasn’t how she’d wanted to spend her Sunday afternoon.
Her phone vibrated with an incoming text.
She had set it down at a safe distance from herself, on the other side of her bedroom.
Groaning, she got up from the small desk tucked into the corner and crossed to the shelf.
It was a message from Scottie.
Hey, beautiful. I was wondering if you want to do something today to distract yourself.
Willow swallowed at the reminder that tomorrow was the big day—the presentation that would decide whether she would get to keep her job.
A second text arrived. There’s a vintage flea market at the Expo Center. Want to go? We could grab an early dinner afterward.
I wish I could, Willow replied. But Mr. Sorensen sent over some last-minute changes that I need to get done today. I’m really sorry.
Scottie’s reply arrived within seconds. You don’t need to apologize. Can I come over and hang out while you work? I promise to be as quiet as a mouse. You won’t even know I’m there.
Willow doubted it. She would be very aware of Scottie’s presence. But that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. I’d love that, she typed. But are you sure that’s how you want to spend your Sunday?
Scottie had spent every evening that week running Willow through tech-failure drills, going over anything that could go wrong during the presentation and teaching Willow how to fix it. Did she really want to spend the day watching Willow work instead of finally doing something fun?
Very sure, Scottie replied. Be there in twenty.
Willow stared at her phone. Okay, that was new.
Not working weekends. She had always done that to catch up on work she hadn’t gotten done at the office because of tech glitches.
What was new was her girlfriend’s reaction. Past partners had always complained. They would never have considered hanging out while Willow worked.
But with Scottie, everything was different. For the first time, Willow caught herself believing that a happily ever after might be possible for her after all.
~ ~ ~
Twenty minutes later, the doorbell rang.
Willow hurried downstairs and opened the door before Fiona could.
Scottie stood in front of her, a paperback novel in one hand and a bag from a bakery in the other. “Marzipan pastries,” she said with a grin.
The sight of her made Willow melt. “God, you are the perfect girlfriend. Whoever Tanya is with now, she seriously downgraded.”
Scottie’s grin eased into something gentler and more vulnerable. “Thank you,” she whispered, as if it was exactly what she had needed to hear.
And it probably was. As confident, cheerful, and optimistic as Scottie was most of the time, she also had a soft heart that could be bruised or broken.
Willow vowed right then and there to never be the one who did that to her. Keeping one hand on the metal part of the doorframe, she curled the other arm around Scottie and kissed her.
It wasn’t just a short hello; it was slow and heartfelt, neither of them caring that the door was still open and the entire neighborhood could see them.
Scottie’s lips, cool from the winter air outside, quickly warmed up beneath hers. Even with her hands full, she wrapped both arms around Willow and pulled her closer.
“Get a room, you two,” Fiona shouted from the living room.
Reluctantly, they disentangled themselves.
“I have a room,” Willow shouted back. Before her sister could fire back another comment, she took the pastries from Scottie, grabbed her hand, and led her past the living room to the stairs at the end of the hall.
So far, they had spent all their time together at Scottie’s apartment, mostly because she lived alone. Willow was very aware that Scottie was about to see her bedroom for the first time.
She opened the door and let Scottie enter, closely watching her face as Scottie looked around.
She knew exactly what Scottie would notice first: the lack of electronics.
There was no TV on the wall, no iPad charging on the bedside table, no game console or smart speakers anywhere.
The laptop on the small desk in the corner was the only electronic device—and even that was in her room temporarily.
Instead, one entire wall was lined with shelves displaying her typewriter collection. The portable Underwood Scottie had given her for Christmas proudly took up the center space.
Scottie walked over and studied them, hands clasped behind her back as if trying to be respectful and not touch anything without permission. Several strands of hair fell into her eyes as she bent to examine them more closely. “Wow,” she murmured. “That’s really amazing.”
Willow leaned against the doorframe, studying her, not the typewriters. “Yes. Totally amazing.”
Scottie straightened and turned, and their gazes met.
For a second, the urge to abandon her presentation and spend the afternoon with Scottie—maybe drag her to bed—gripped Willow. But then reason won. She looked away. “Make yourself at home. I have maybe two hours left of this misery. If you get bored, I don’t mind if you—”
Scottie held up the book she’d brought. “I won’t get bored. Get some work done, and don’t worry about me.” She settled down on the love seat by the window, while Willow went back to her desk.
Soon, the rustle of Scottie turning pages mingled with the rain on the roof and the tapping of Willow’s laptop keys.
Every once in a while, Willow allowed herself to glance at Scottie, who sat on the love seat sideways—facing Willow—one leg dangling over the armrest. Willow realized she liked having Scottie in her space, and that had never happened before.
It was the most peaceful work session she’d ever had. Not a single glitch happened! Even the animation that had given her trouble earlier behaved on the first click.
Finally, Willow saved her progress and got up to stretch. Only then did she notice that the sun had set while she’d been working and that Scottie had turned on the light.
Scottie looked up from her book. “Time for a break?”
Willow nodded and walked over.
Scottie immediately set her novel aside and made room for her on the love seat. “How is it going?”
“Really well. You get my laptop to behave just by being here.” Willow cuddled against her side. A sigh escaped her. “I wish I could take you into the presentation with me.”
“I know.” Scottie soothingly ran her fingers through Willow’s hair. “I’ll be there in spirit—and I’ll be right outside the door, ready to jump in should it become necessary.”
Willow gave her a questioning look. “How are you planning to manage that?”
“I’ll find a reason to hang out on the fifteenth floor. Maybe I’ve got to install an urgent security patch on an EA’s computer. And I’ll have your emergency bag all packed, crammed full of every replacement device you might need. I’ll bring it with me when we set up for the presentation.”
“We?”
“Of course.” Scottie gave her a wink. “Mr. Sorensen didn’t say you’d have to do it alone, did he?”
Willow shook her head.
“So it makes sense to get some help from IT for such an important presentation,” Scottie added.
Willow couldn’t help smiling. “Perfect sense. Thank you.” Knowing Scottie would be there to double-check everything eased some of her tension.
They sat in silence for a while, feeding each other bits of a marzipan pastry. Then Scottie wiped her hands and gestured to the acoustic bass resting on its stand next to the love seat. “Would you play something for me before you go back to work?”
Willow hesitated. She hadn’t played for an audience—even an audience of one—in nearly a decade. But she knew Scottie wouldn’t judge her for still being a bit rusty, so she picked up the bass and settled it on her right thigh.
Scottie slid to the side to give her room.
Willow slipped the instrument’s strap over her head, relaxed her shoulders, and let her thumb rest lightly against the E string. Then she eased into the opening riff of “I Feel Good”—simple but cheerful. The fingers of her left hand instinctively found the right spots on the fretboard.
The low thrum of the strings vibrated through her entire body, mingling with the buzz being close to Scottie always gave her.
Her execution wasn’t perfect, but the groove still made her smile. When Willow peeked at her, Scottie was watching her with an awestruck look, as if she were listening to James Brown himself.
“That was beautiful,” Scottie said when the last note had faded away. With a grin, she added, “And hot.”
Willow laughed. “Hot?”
“A woman with skilled fingers, handling an instrument with such grace and control…” Scottie nodded decisively. “Totally hot.”
Willow resisted the urge to fan herself. “Want to try it?”
Scottie hesitated. “Are you sure I won’t break it?”
“It’s sturdier than it looks,” Willow said. “Besides, I’m trying not to be afraid of breaking stuff all the time, and you shouldn’t be afraid of it either.”
They exchanged a long look.
“Okay,” Scottie finally said. “I’d love to try it, then.”
Willow slipped the strap over Scottie’s head and helped her settle the bass across her lap. “Put your left hand here, on the neck. We won’t do any fretting for now. The right hand is your plucking hand. Rest your thumb against the body of the bass or the top string.”
“Like this?”
Willow glanced down.
Scottie’s strong, competent fingers looked good on her bass.
“Yes, exactly like that. By the way, you were right,” Willow said with a smile. “That does look hot.”
“Yeah, but let’s see how it sounds.” Scottie lightly plucked the E string with her index finger.
“Use your first two fingers alternately, and don’t be afraid to do that a little harder. Bass strings are pretty thick.” Willow reached over and demonstrated, plucking the G string with her index finger and the D string with her middle finger.