14
“Obstinate, headstrong girl!” —Pride today, they are more blue than green.
I lead us to an empty bench, looking out on the water. We sip our drinks and eat macarons (not as good as mine, but still delicious). I tear off a piece of my almond croissant to share with Lettie.
“I have a confession to make,” I say after finishing off a caramel macaron.
“Yes?”
“I don’t think I like sandals.”
Lettie spit-takes, spraying pink macaron crumbs that land on her face and sweatshirt. Laughing, I hand her my handkerchief.
“Sorry,” she says as she takes it. “I’m such a disaster.” She wipes off her face first, then inspects the handkerchief. “Ooh, fancy! I didn’t think anyone under 80 used these anymore.”
“I knew you were going to make fun of this. But I can’t stand using disposable tissues. I mean, obviously, I can, but a cloth one is so much softer and sturdier.”
“That is so bougie, no beyond bougie. But also, it makes sense.” Her fingers run along the embroidery. In the corner is a blooming almond tree and a stylized letter P on the trunk. “P for Pemberley?”
“Yeah, My mom embroiders everything. It calms her when she’s anxious. I have dozens and dozens of these. You can keep it.”
“Thank you!” She slips the handkerchief in her purse. “My mom likes embroidery, too. And sometimes I embroider my clothes.” She jumps off the bench and shows me a red heart stitched on the back pocket of her jean shorts. Honestly, I’m just admiring her cute butt.
“Dang it,” she says when she turns around. “I didn’t mean to ... I wasn’t trying to show off...” Her cheeks flush bright red. “Never mind.”
“I know... It’s fine.” I reach for her hand and pull her back to the bench beside me. In the sun, her light-brown hair shines golden. “I like you a lot, Lettie.” She nods ever so slightly and swallows as if she’s about to say something, her lips part. Instinctively, I lean in. She closes the gap and kisses me. Her pink lips claim mine while her hands run through my hair. She tastes like sugar and almonds. I am a lost man. All the sights and sounds of the riverwalk disappear. When we finally pull apart, we are both slightly breathless. “I want to date you,” I say.
Lettie goes still. She doesn’t blink or nod or say a word. After a full minute, which feels much longer. I break the silence. “What do you say?”
“I don’t . . . think . . . so.”
“You don’t... think so?” She nods. “You don’t think you like me? Or you don’t want to date me?”
“I think... ” She puts her head in her hands. “I don’t know.”
“But we were just kissing?” I don’t bother to hide my hurt or anger.
“I got carried away. Sorry.”
“You got carried away?” I repeat, trying to tamper down the firestorm of emotion churning inside me.
“I shouldn’t have kissed you... but you’re hard to resist.” She takes my hand. “Liam,” she says in a gentler tone. “I’m moving back to Iowa.”
I’m completely thrown. My chest constricts, and I find it hard to breathe.
“When?”
“July.”
“That’s next week?” I snap. “You’re moving!”
“The cost of living here is too high, and I got a teaching job in Ames.”
The ground is falling out from under me. There are no words for my disappointment. My eyes sting.
“Don’t go,” I speak urgently. “Please!”
She looks sick. I feel sick.
“Liam, we hardly know each other. There’s no reason for me to stay.”
“Lie to me all you want, Lettie. But don’t lie to yourself. You like me. And I... I really like you.”
“You’re wrong. I don’t... I don’t know if I like you... I’m attracted to you. I can’t help that. But I understand I’m not the only one.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Don’t think I haven’t heard the stories—you dating every pretty employee. Making them feel beautiful and desired, promising them a future with you, then dumping them as soon as you get what you want.”
She may as well have slapped me. “Where did you hear this?”
“Are you saying it’s not true?’
“Lettie, you’re the closest to an employee that I’ve ever dated, and I waited until you were no longer under contract. Where did you get this idea?”
“Noah Whittaker. He said he was fired when he filed a complaint about you dating an employee.”
Noah Whittaker. That explains the distrust in her eyes. I can only imagine the sort of stories he would tell her.
“Noah Whittaker is a lying scumbag! You can’t believe him or trust him.”
“That’s what he said about you.”
“So this is what you think about me? That I’m a player and a womanizer?”
She hesitates. “I... I... don’t know. You did kiss me when technically you were still on a date with Caroline.”
“I did.” I run my hands through my hair in frustration. “You didn’t seem too worried about that last night.”
“I was swept up in the moment. But you see why I have concerns?”
“Honestly? No, I don’t. I’ve made my interest clear from the start.” Lettie stares at me, her pretty mouth slightly ajar. “And then we fought, and we made up. And ... ”
“How do I know you don’t say the same things to all your dates?”
“Ask Charlie. He can tell you it’s been more than a year since my last girlfriend. And I can categorically promise I’ve never been as wild about anyone as I am about you.”
“So, what am I supposed to do? Stay in an apartment I can’t afford because you’re crazy about me?”
“Yes! That would be a start,” I say with a huge sense of relief. “I’d be happy to cover your rent.”
“No! Liam! I can’t take a penny from you or from anyone. You’ve got to see that. I can’t change my life plans because I might like you. Just a few days ago, I half-hated you. Our first date was a disaster. And last night... ” She looks down at her hand in mine. “It’s hard for me to know who to believe. I want to believe you.”
“Then do. Lettie, believe me when I say I care about you.”
She stares at me, her eyes wide and full of uncertainty. We sit so close on the bench, that the side of her lower thigh touches mine. As if pulled by gravity, our bodies sway together. In a flash, Lettie’s lips are on mine. Her hand reaches up to the back of my head, guiding me to her. I return her kiss, desperate to show her how much I care, how much I need her. I can’t think of her leaving. Not now, not when we are just beginning to see how good we could be together.
With each kiss, I’m begging, pleading, “Stay! Lettie, stay! I want to bake you macarons for breakfast every day. Whenever someone says something ridiculous, I want to catch your eye and share a secret smile. I want to have rip-roaring fights with you over pop culture. And then kiss and makeup forever and ever.” But I’m not getting through to her. All her bittersweet kisses say the same thing—goodbye, goodbye. She pulls away, her cheeks wet with tears. And I know I’ve lost her.
“No... we can’t... Liam, don’t confuse me. I’ve made up my mind.” I see the steel settle in her soul. There’s no point arguing. But I still try.
“Please consider my offer.”
She shakes her head no. “You can’t throw money at every problem.”
“I’m not. I don’t. I’m just trying to do whatever I can to save this.”
“Maybe I don’t want you to save this!” She stands. “Maybe this... ” she points between the two of us. “... is a terrible idea.”