Chapter 35
I finish up my shift for the afternoon, wave goodbye to my boss, Dex, and head home for a bit before I have to grab Jess from school.
My mind wanders to Jameson on the way, as it does so often these days.
I’ve never been this self-conscious about my situation before, but he's a retired CEO millionaire; I’m a waitress, realtor, and student.
I’ve always been proud of how I raised my daughter by myself.
But I still can’t stop the corrosive, self-defeating thoughts that I’m not good enough from creeping in.
And then the song comes on—the one we kissed to the night of our first date: Linger.
And suddenly, the feeling that I get when I’m around him takes over and overshadows those doubts.
He’s never given me one reason to think he judges my situation or to think he believes I’m not good enough.
That crazy man tracked down my number under the guise of wanting to buy a house, which he did really want to do, but still, he even admitted it was a way to get to know me better.
I have a little time left before I pick Jess up from school, so as soon as I get home, I start mindlessly cleaning the house, even though I just cleaned yesterday. Maybe some deep cleaning is in order today.
I wipe baseboards, dust the tops of cupboards and bookshelves, and then I get on my hands and knees and pull disgusting dust bunnies from under the couches.
I know I just cleaned under here a month or two ago.
It accumulates so fast. The one good thing about having a small house is that there is far less cleaning to do.
And with how busy I usually am, I’m grateful for that.
Because I do not have it in my budget for a cleaning service.
I pull out a glitter pen. One of Jessica’s. Then I pull out a kid-sized sock. And just as I’m about to stand, I see toward the very back what looks like a photo lying flat against the floor. I almost missed it.
I grunt as I stretch my arm to the max trying to grab it. My fingers finally touch the top and I press down, sliding it across the floor toward me. It’s a tiny, square photo, and it’s covered in dust. I make a mental note to clean under here more as I pull another string of dust off the picture.
The photo is old and faded—like, decades old. It’s a picture of a ski lodge here, with the name written on the bottom: The Silver Pines lodge. It looks more like a business card now that I look at it. On the back there’s a short, hand-written note:
Whenever you’re in need of a Sonny day…
Obviously, the first thing I notice is that the spelling is wrong. I may not have graduated from college—yet—but I know how to spell. I have no idea where this came from. I stand up, about to throw it in the trash, when I stop dead in my tracks. And an idea hits me…
Is the spelling wrong?
I swear I’ve never seen this before, and it’s old…So where did it come from? This is exactly where I was sitting when I was sorting through Elizabeth’s old box. Is it possible I somehow missed it slipping out? I was being so careful…
I grab my phone and call Jameson, no hesitation.
“Hey.” He answers on the first ring.
“Hey. So, I just found something that could be something but also might not be anything…”
“Okay…” He draws out the syllables, and I hear the smile in his voice.
“It’s an old picture. I found it under the couch and it looks like it’s an old business card from a ski resort not far from here. I’ve never seen it before in my life, so I’m thinking maybe it fell out that day I was going through the box.”
“Hmm. Well, what does that tell us? A ski lodge could mean anything.”
“There’s a short, handwritten note on the back.”
I can picture him perking up on the other end. “Oh?”
“It says, ‘Whenever you’re in need of a Sonny day, and the S is capitalized and there’s an ‘o’ instead of a ‘u.’”
“Interesting.”
“What do you think? I have no clue what this could mean. But maybe we could just…go there and check it out. I don’t know. I have a good feeling about it.”
“Are you asking me out on a date?”
“No. I just thought…our whole detective-team thing, you know?”
“Ah. Bummer.”
Stop being stupid, Carly.
“I mean…yes. Go on a date with me. Please?”
“I would love to. We have our real estate date in a couple days so…after that? Saturday?”
“Saturday?”
“Yes. Saturdays are our day.”
“Yeah. You’re right. Just don’t start calling me some ridiculous nickname like, ‘my Saturday,’ okay?”
The sound of his laughter in my ear fills me with a whole different kind of warmth. Not the kind that consumes me and makes me want to jump his bones, but a much deeper, emotional kind.
“Deal. How about, ‘my Tuesday?’”
“Do not ever.”
Another laugh that fills me with emotions I’m not ready to face yet.
“Okay. Okay.”
“Besides, I already like what you call me when we’re…you know.”
His voice is so soft and seductive, it instantly turns me on as he says, “baby?”
My cheeks are flush, and it takes me a moment to respond. “Yes,” I say weakly.
“Well, then. I’ll make sure to reserve that only for when I’m about to make you come and moan my name.”
I close my eyes and place a hand on my forehead.
“Any chance you’d want to…sneak over tonight?”
He’s a thirty-nine-year-old man and I’m asking him to sneak over like a teenager. I’d be embarrassed except that I don’t think I can wait until our real estate appointment in a couple days to be with him again. I have a hunger for him that hasn’t been satisfied yet.
A deep rumble sounds through the phone. His laugh is much deeper now, more sensual. The tone has shifted from emotional to filthy. “Did I get you excited, baby?”
“Yes,” I whisper
“I’ll climb in your window anytime. Just tell me when.”
I’m smiling like a fool. It’s a good thing no one is around to witness how truly, foolishly deep I am now.
I laugh. “I didn’t mean you have to actually crawl in my window.” Though the site of him doing that is pretty funny. “I just meant you can’t come in the front door until Jess has gone to bed.”
“Right. Well, either way, I’m there.”