Chapter 8 #2
The brick required a good power washing. She would need to hire a graphic designer to devise a logo and her sign. She closed her eyes and inhaled, picturing it.
Tim hadn’t even had a chance to contact the owners yet. Anita knew she shouldn’t get her hopes up. She picked up a chip and popped it into her mouth. It had been years since she allowed her dreams unfettered access to her mind.
If the owners were willing to sell, she would need to figure out how much she could afford to spend. Thankfully, she had money to invest. Archer’s Bridal provided a steady income over the years. Anita had lived modestly, and routinely saved more than half of her income.
She picked up the Styrofoam box and her soda and headed to her desk in the tiny office off the break room. It was time to check her bank accounts and make a budget for this new venture.
Anita took another bite of her sandwich and logged onto her computer. She spent the next hour and a half nibbling on her sandwich and chips while she scrutinized her financial situation and made a budget.
The sound of her cell phone ringing interrupted her thoughts. Her phone was in her purse in the break room. The ringtone told her Gordon was calling.
She abandoned her paperwork and hurried to answer her phone before it went to voicemail.
“Gordon,” she said.
“Hello, Anita,” he said. “You sound out of breath. Am I interrupting?”
“Absolutely not. I was in my office and had to race into the other room to get my phone. You’re early,” she said. “I thought we were going to FaceTime later.”
She held the phone to her ear as she returned to her office. The Styrofoam container sat empty on her desk. She’d been so engrossed in her work that she’d eaten the entire sandwich and all the chips without realizing it. So much for bringing dinner home, she thought to herself.
“I know,” Gordon said, “and we’ll still be together for dinner later. I miss you, and I decided to check on you.”
“That’s sweet of you,” Anita said. “I’m fine. I’ll be leaving here shortly—I’m closing early. How about you? Did you have a busy day?”
“Well …” he hesitated before continuing, “you could say that.”
“I’d love to hear about it,” Anita said, cradling the phone between her shoulder and her ear while she carried her empty soda can and the Styrofoam container to the trash. She paused, waiting for him to continue.
“Gordon?” she said, frowning as she pressed the phone tighter to her ear. “Gordon?”
She pulled the phone away and looked at the screen. They had been disconnected.
"Must be my fault," she muttered, quickly punching in his number and hitting the call button.
“Hello, Anita,” came his voice, but, oddly, the phone was still ringing in her hand.
Anita furrowed her brow. Confused, she turned in a slow circle, scanning the empty break room.
"Anita?"
The voice was no longer coming from the phone. It was coming from behind her.
Puzzled, Anita turned slowly … and froze.
Standing in the middle of the bridal showroom, framed by the soft glow of the afternoon sun streaming through the window, was Gordon. He was impeccably dressed in a black wool overcoat, a black turtleneck, and dark green trousers.
“Gordon,” she sputtered, taking a stumbling step back. Her free hand flew to her heart as if she could steady the wild thudding in her chest. “What are you doing here?”
A slow, tender smile spread across his face. He shrugged out of his coat and tossed it over one arm, his dark eyes never leaving hers.
Before she could say another word, he crossed the distance between them with long, purposeful strides and gathered her into his arms. Anita barely had time to inhale the crisp winter air clinging to his clothes before his lips found hers.
Their kiss was deep and unhurried, as if he were memorizing the moment—and she was only too happy to let him.
When they finally broke apart, Anita rested her forehead against his chest, trying to catch her breath. "You … you’re really here," she whispered, the words muffled against the fabric of his sweater.
"I’m really here," Gordon murmured into her hair, tightening his arms around her. “Good thing we’re not near your display window,” he said, when they finally came up for air. “Our kiss would’ve steamed up the glass.”
Anita rocked back in his arms and put her palms on his chest. “That would give this town something to talk about!” she said with a giggle. “I can’t believe you’re here!” She pressed her palms against him as if to confirm his presence. “I’m thrilled to see you. When did you get in?”
“A couple of hours ago. I’m staying at The Mill. I checked in and came straight here. And that, my dear, is what I’ve been doing today—braving long lines, busy airports, and packed flights to be with you on New Year’s Eve.”
“My goodness,” Anita said. “That’s romantic! I was about to close the shop. Let’s run to the grocery and pick up something for dinner. I was going to bring half of my lunch home, but I ended up eating it all. I’m afraid I don’t have much on hand.”
“You know me better than that,” Gordon chided. “I wouldn’t barge in on you and expect you to prepare me a meal. We’ve got dinner reservations at The Mill at seven.”
“Oh, my gosh! That would be lovely,” she said. “I’ve always wanted to go there for New Year’s Eve. They’re booked months in advance. How did you get a reservation?”
“Fate is on our side, my dear. They had a cancellation, and I grabbed it. I was hoping you’d like my surprise.”
“I love your surprise,” she said, before taking a step back and putting a hand to her head. “I’m not sure what to wear.”
“You always look lovely,” he replied. “Don’t stress. Wear what you have on.”
She rolled her eyes. “Absolutely not. I’ll find something in the recesses of my closet.”
“I’ll walk you to your car and pick you up at your place at 6:15, if that’s all right.”
“Perfect,” she said, crossing to her computer. “I’ll log off and tidy up these papers, and then we’ll leave.”
“What are you working on?” he asked.
“Plans for my new museum,” she said, arching an eyebrow at him. “I’d love to tell you about them.”
“And I can’t wait to hear,” he said. Gordon picked up her coat from the back of the chair where she had dropped it and held it for her.
They stepped into the late afternoon sunshine, locked the door, and strolled arm in arm to Anita’s car.