11. Will
11
Will
A lice grins, undeterred by her small predicament. The small issue being she isn’t getting a paycheck for another three weeks. But she’s making me rethink things. For instance, I’m going to go home and clean my own toilet. Immediately.
Not because I want to, but because I feel like I need to.
We drive back to Echo Ridge, and I can’t stop thinking about my four bags in the back next to Alice’s one. If I slipped a loaf of bread into her grocery sack, would she notice?
Of course she’d notice. I think it’s possible Alice would notice a butterfly flapping its wing irregularly. The girl notices everything, states everything, has a theory about everything.
We ride the elevator up to the sixth floor, comfortable silence settling between us. Sure, there’s comfort between the two of us, but that half-filled grocery sack dangling from her hand is making me quite uncomfortable.
The elevator door opens, and we step into our quiet hallway. “Do you want to stay at my place again?” That would be one easy way to feed the woman.
Her eyes flare as if I’ve asked her to stay in my room with me. “No. I promised you that would be a one-time thing. I don’t want to take advantage.”
“Right.” I walk Alice to her apartment door. “But I’m inviting you. I don’t mind. You’ll be sleeping in a room I never go into. It’s not as if you’ll disturb me. Besides, where will you sleep otherwise?” I shrug, trying to convey that it really isn’t a big deal.
“Oh, I have a plan. Did you happen to notice a stuffed giraffe when you were helping me with my things?”
I smirk. “You mean the one you brought over last night? Um, yeah. He’s half my size and hard to miss. Why was that a Tesoro necessity?”
“Mom doesn’t want my things mixing in with hers in her storage unit. And I didn’t want my dad to have to store my things again. So?—”
“So, you brought everything you own?”
“Pretty much. Yes.”
“Does that mean your purple bridesmaid dress is?—”
She nods once. “You mean the purple people-eater that I wore to Amanda’s wedding? Yes, it’s in here.”
I smirk. That thing was impressive. “Can I see it?”
“No.” Alice throws out a palm and smacks my arm. “Ooo—but why haven’t I utilized it for bedding? Good thinking, Will.”
“Good thinking? That sounds horrible. I have no idea what you’re planning.”
“I haven’t been utilizing everything I brought. I can use the giraffe and the purple people-eater as cushioning.”
“Mercy,” I groan, scrubbing a hand down my five o’clock shadow. “You’re going to sleep on that stuffed giraffe and your bridesmaid dress?”
“Yes.” And somehow, the woman is grinning. My back hurts with just the thought—but she is all smiles. “And my quilt.”
“That sounds like a really, really horrible idea. Just come sleep in my bed.” I cough. “Guest bed. My guest bed. I could even move it over here if you?—”
“No! Will, I will not have you moving your furniture out of your apartment for me. I’m fine. I’m making it on my own.”
I stare in the mirror of my bathroom, my eyes red and puffy from lack of sleep. Which is ridiculous because I didn’t sleep on a stuffed giraffe last night. I was so sure she’d come knocking. But three a.m. came and went, and no Alice. I even got out of bed at one point to clean my toilet bowl. But the cleaners who come weekly don’t leave any product or a bowl brush in the apartment. There was nothing to clean it with. So, I plunged. I plunged a toilet that didn’t need plunging, attempting to make the bottom of that bowl shine a little more while I waited for her knock… but she never came.
Maybe her giraffe purple people-eater bed worked out for her after all.
I pull up Zoe’s number and hit call. I have questions—and no one else to ask.
“Hello?”
“Would Alice hate it if I bought her a bed?” I say in greeting.
“Yes,” Zoe says. “She’d despise that, Will. She’s always been independent.”
“There’s independent, and then there’s masochistic.”
Zoe groans. “She isn’t masochistic. If she says she’s fine, she’s fine. It’s Alice. I tend to believe what she says.”
“Right. You know her better than I do.” There’s a slight pause over my cell, and I peer down at the device, toothbrush in hand. “Zoe?”
“Well, once upon a time, I did. I knew Alice when she lived with her dad. We were in school. We were friends—but not best friends.”
“Tell me Bridezilla was not her best friend.”
“She was one of them. But Amanda was nice then too. I don’t know what’s happened to her. The point is, Alice and I have kept in touch through social media the last few years, so?—”
“So, you haven’t really kept in touch. So, maybe she wouldn’t hate me buying her a bed. Is that what you’re saying?” I am ready to hit purchase. I stare at my phone, a bed in my Amazon cart, just a Prime two days away. My finger hovers.
“Will, what’s with you?” Zoe groans, and I flex my hand into a fist. I don’t hit purchase. “You’re switching your obsession from this team to Alice? Is that it?”
“No. Geez. I’m not obsessed at all. Not with the team?—”
“I beg to differ,” Zoe mutters.
“And not with Alice. I just don’t like her sleeping on the ground.”
“She’s a big girl.”
“I know,” I growl.
“And Billy has more important things to think about—the team’s name, for instance. I’d love to announce this to the public with an actual name and not your unsure insecurities.”
“Ouch.”
“Just saying. You’re hesitant about everything. You need to knock it off.”
“I’m thoughtful about everything,” I say past my toothbrush and a mouth full of suds. “And I’m working on it. Don’t rush me.”
“I wouldn’t dare,” Zoe says, her tone mocking.
Two hours later, I’m sitting with my marketing board, working on typography for both possible names. But I’m struggling to focus. While Alice has come prepared—she’s brought good work—she’s also yawned no less than six times.
“Okay,” I say as she stifles her seventh yawn. “Nice job today. Let’s work on it and reconvene tomorrow.”
Theo peers down at his watch—yep, I’m ending an hour earlier than normal.
I shuffle my work into a pile and avoid eye contact with everyone. “Alice, can I talk to you?”
I glance up just in time to see the wink Theo gives her across the table. “See you, princess .”
Is it too late to look for his replacement?
“Am I in trouble?” Alice asks as the door shuts behind the last member of my marketing crew.
“What? No.”
One of her blonde brows raises, hiding behind her chunky bangs. “Theo winked at me. He called me princess—though he always calls me princess—but that tone… He just looked so pleased that you’d asked me to stay behind, so I thought maybe it meant something.”
“Like?” I say, amused.
“I don’t know. What happens when you go to the principal?”
I am so not her principal. I cough out a small chortle. “Alice, you aren’t in trouble. Theo’s a jerk who finds empowered women intimidating.”
“Empowered. You think I’m powerful?”
I chuckle. “I think you’re good at your job and that makes you powerful. You’re smart, you’re creative, and you’re forthright. Yeah, you should feel empowered.”
“Huh.” The left side of her mouth quirks in a half smile. “And because Theo’s ego can’t handle it, he’s intimidated.” She lifts one brow. “By me?”
“Exactly.”
“Really?” She plops into the chair next to me, though I’m standing. “Huh. That’s kind of fun.”
“Yeah, well, maybe I need to start looking for a new team member.” I drag my eyes from Alice to the glass door Theo is trying to nonchalantly watch us through. His eyes dart from Mateo next to him in the open office area to this conference room Alice and I remain in.
“Don’t replace him on my account. I don’t care if he calls me princess. My work is going to take his work down. And that will be so much fun.” Her entire face scrunches in a pleased grin.
“We’re a team—you know that, right?” I say, but I don’t mind her outlook, not really. A little healthy competition never hurt anything. It might even strengthen my marketing crew.
“I do know that,” she says. “It’s not my fault Theo’s a chump who doesn’t work as hard as me.”
I sit next to her. She’s slumped in her chair, looking more tired by the minute.
“How’d your giraffe princess dress bed work out for you?”
“It’s not a princess dress.” She rolls her eyes. “I’d never use an actual princess dress for a bed.”
I lift my brows, waiting for an answer to my question.
“It’s fine… sort of.”
“You’re sure. I have a bed, and it’s empty, and?—”
She grins. “Thank you, Will. You’re kind. Maybe Billy wasn’t a total dummy when he hired you. But really, I’ll be okay. I think I just need to get used to it.”