19. Chapter 19
nineteen
F rom the first moment of the next day, Annie knew she was terminally lovesick for Julian. She was even sorrier that she saw the awful truth of the matter.
When Julian texted her good morning, she told him she hoped he had a good day, and that she wanted to catch up on some work.
Part of her wanted to skip on over to his cabin, straight into his arms. Her practicality forbade it.
Unless he needed her help, she knew the right thing to do meant staying put.
No more steamy cuddle sessions.
They were just vacation neighbors.
That was all.
Yeah... right...
The bright joy in her heart sang in her ears like a grand symphony; her mind could hardly comprehend that it was indeed emanating from her own heart.
The overwhelming joy filled her so fully that she saw it in her reflection— even the distorted and filthy ones.
Her dull, exhausted eyes sparkled again.
It’s like I didn’t know what was slowly consuming me until Julian came into my life… with his humor… his warm arms… that smile… bet he could lift me up… pin me against a wall …
She sighed.
Later in the afternoon, she called Molly. They hadn’t talked much in the last few days. While sitting on the cabin couch, Annie chatted with her friend, mostly about the new TV series Peter had found, until Molly brought up the subject of Julian.
“Can you let him know Peter is ready to send the money for the firewood?”
“Definitely. He could use the cash.” Then, without thinking, Annie added, “He just helped me replace my coat. ”
“Replace it? Julian?”
Not wanting to expose her messy feelings before she figured them out, Annie had avoided talking about Julian — especially when it came to the chainsaw incident.
Molly hated gore. She felt mildly guilty for holding back until she reminded herself that she’d been busy — spending every waking moment of the last few days either working or aiding Julian.
Starting with their shopping trip, Annie said how they’d had a fun time, before explaining quickly how the coat had gotten ruined. Molly gasped. For extra measure, Annie added it hadn’t happened because of the stacked wood her friends had requested.
“That’s just awful! Poor guy.”
“The first couple of days were rough, but it seems like he’s feeling better.”
“Feeling good enough to rattle your bones and make you swoon,” Serene Hallowbrew taunted Annie.
Shutty! You already embarrassed me yesterday , she thought back, before saying to Molly, “I appreciate Mom trying to help me out when she sends me her old clothes, but it’ll be nice to have something I feel attractive in.”
"Well, that’s good. Since you’re single now.”
“It’s just for me. I’m not ready to date. ”
Molly laughed. “But you haven’t just been up there all by yourself.”
“Because your neighbor nearly lost his hand?”
“Even if Peter’s arm was bent at a funny angle, and he didn’t know me, he’d insist I leave him to suffer. And I’m pretty sure most men don’t go coat shopping with us unless they’re into us. Is there something you’re not telling me?”
Annie pursed her mouth. Her deflection had been too transparent. Turning so that her back rested against the couch arm and folding her knees up to her chest, she confessed, “Well... he likes my company.”
“Likes... or like-likes?”
“What?” Annie laughed. “Are you like twelve?”
“I’ve told you all my like-likes without you even asking.”
“I’m just helping him.”
Her friend paused. “No. You’re not.”
Annie scoffed and rolled her eyes. She could easily imagine Molly grinning from ear to ear.
“You think you’re really starting to like him, too?”
Yes. Oh, yes, very much... but... Annie nibbled on her thumbnail. She didn’t want to get Molly’s hopes up. “Okay, yes, but I don’t know. I have so much to worry about.”
"Everybody has their own thing to worry about.”
“I don’t know.”
“If it’s meant to be, it’s meant to be.”
“So corny.”
“Whatever. You know it’s true.”
Maybe. But that didn’t ease Annie’s fears. “Two hours is a long drive from Fort Walton. I’m going to miss him when I come home,” she admitted despite herself.
"Him?”
“Him... what? ”
“Will he miss you?”
“Probably, yeah. There’s no doubt he likes me.”
Molly let out a squeal of happiness that unsettled Annie’s confused heart. Even the thought of hoping things would work out saddened her. If mishandled, hope could be soul-crushing.
“Then just keep it honest,” Molly said. “And it’s his loss if he can’t be patient. Then you’ll know he’s just looking for sex and nothing more. And as for you, if you want him bad enough, do you think you’ll let timing keep you apart?”
“It’s not just timing, it’s also distance. He lives here.”
“Neither are permanent."
This gave Annie more to grasp onto than cliché alone.
Julian seemed like a patient man… Her nerves softened slightly before they tensed once more.
Leading him on and hurting him would just about kill her.
Already her poor heart was feverishly stitching their relationship to her soul, though, which terrified her.
I’ve known him for not even two weeks. What’s wrong with me? I’ve never fallen this hard or this fast before. Do I really even know him?
“Thank you.” Feeling drained while her brain buzzed, Annie told her friend that she’d be home within a week.
Molly sighed heavily through the phone. “I’m glad you’re having fun, but I miss you.”
“I miss you, too.”
When Peter came home from grocery shopping a few minutes later, Molly got off the phone.
Annie went to her laptop in the dining room and tried to focus on work again, but couldn’t stop thinking about Julian and what they were going to do about their feelings for each other.
She sighed and checked her email. She found a message from the At the Root Level admin account .
To: Annie Turner
From: Leonard Princely
Subject: Summer Issue Check In
Dear Miss Turner
I’m unsure if you’re currently experiencing personal difficulties, but the outrageous amount of errors in this document is more than I usually find in your assignments.
This sloppiness is unacceptable. I suggest you take the time to refine your latest piece before submitting it again for final edits by the end of this week.
I must be efficient, and I must have efficient writers for my magazine, too.
Yours, Leonard Princely
At the Root Level, Head Editor
Annie sat back in her chair, confused.
What was so bad about what I sent him? Peeved, she opened the document he had attached to the email.
The amount of red, stricken-out text flared her anger. But only when she begrudgingly agreed with the majority of the changes, did her indignation wilt into absolute horror. Her eyes bugged out, her cheeks flooding with shame.
It’s like I didn’t even see my own words when I proofread...
Another email in her inbox caught her eye. It was from a client that she worked with often, but hadn’t written for in almost two months. She’d reached out to see if they needed any work before the breakup. Their reply was succinct, and degrees cooler still than what Mr. Princely had iced her with.
To: Annie Turner
From: [email protected]
Subject: Re: Query
Dear Anne.
We’ve reviewed your query. The tone of your previous work isn’t a great fit for the fuutre direction of our publication.
Best of luck,
Maggie Johnson, Submissions
Annie wasn’t sure what hurt more — the lack of opportunity to conform to the new “tone” of the children’s entertainment magazine, or getting rejected by a twenty-five word letter that contained a typo.
And they spelled my name wrong! Writing for Ranger Rabbit wasn’t typically an enormous chunk of her income, but the extra money had been good for covering gas expenses or small grocery trips.
She’d also enjoyed writing energetic, lighter fare.
Well, that all blows.
She slumped heavily in her chair at the dining room table. Was this a fluke, or something deeper? Would her clients replace her? Hire one of hundreds of writers waiting in the wings, thirsty to take my assignments? Replace me with a robot? Maybe I deserve to be replaced if I’m losing my touch–
Her heart suddenly pounded uncomfortably in her chest.
Ugh, not a panic attack…
Bracing herself, she turned away from the table, clutched her arms, and put her head between her legs. She groaned, waiting for it to pass.
It took everything in me to get here, and now it’s slipping away.
Maybe I’m not as good as I believe... Not to mention I’m essentially homeless unless I crawl back to Chris.
Can I make it on my own? Rent was cheaper on the outskirts of Fort Walton, and she wouldn’t mind getting away from the hustle and bustle — as she had learned from her vacation.
Then I’ll get a part-time job. Just in case.
The very thought kicked her spirit. She loved that she could avoid employee politics and the pecking order, and take time off when she needed to, but perhaps it was inevitable.
But where? Fort Walton doesn’t need writers. .. that’s why I work from home!
She really did love writing.
But, if things continued the way they were going…
She sighed, frustrated.
Dear God, this is wearing me thin.
The cesspit of her fears and the trepidation that gripped her was driving her mad. The worst of the panic attack abated as she rubbed her upper arms and got up to drink a glass of ice water. She hated how the skepticism and dread sounded in her mind. But... reality was reality. And it stung.
I can’t give up, but... Well... but... maybe I can actually try to get a job cooking in a restaurant, though?
The shaky, singular thought that burst through the self-deprecating nonsense was unexpected and at once comforting.
She wasn’t sure where it had come from, but she was grateful.
Going back to school for cooking, as Serene Hallowbrew had suggested days before, wouldn’t be practical, but a job in food service felt less abysmal than her current predicament.
The sudden optimistic feeling within her told her that everything would be okay, that a new beginning would eventually find her, and that she would find a new place of her own.
She also had the urge to text Julian. To confide in him. Could he offer any advice on starting over?
Her heart immediately resumed its needful ache. Molly was right.
She like-liked Julian.
She had many burning questions with much-needed, serious answers .
Where do you see this going, Julian? We kissed, and it meant something... do you like me the same way I like you? Could we make this work?
It was disgustingly difficult to ignore something shiny, sexy, and almost too good to be true when it was right in front of her; she knew, without doubt, that her heart was determined to pry her mind open, and keep it open to the possibilities.
Maybe we could make something work? Maybe it’s not about accidentally leading him on… but moving forward with him?
Maybe there’s more than just a few kisses…
She didn’t think he was only interested in just sex. She tried to imagine how he might react if she shared her feelings, but she could dream of a thousand-million scenarios, and only know the truth… if she was brave enough to ask for it.
Biting her lip, she picked up her phone. She texted Julian to ask if he was busy. She was sure it would take him a few minutes to reply. To her surprise, before she had the chance to put her phone down to the side, she received a response.
Watching a movie. What’s up? (sent at 6:49 pm)
Want to come over? I have something to discuss with you. Nothing bad. (sent at 6:50 pm)
Her hands trembled. This time, it took him several minutes to answer. Biting her nails, she waited.
Sure. Could use a little fresh air. I have something I need to tell you too. (sent at 6:59 pm)
Annie blinked. What could that mean? She thought for a moment.
Did he want to officially profess his feelings, too?
She couldn’t think of anything other than that—whether or not he was going to agree with her or wish her well and send her on her way was to be seen.
She had all but friend-zoned him the other night.
It wasn’t her intention to make it seem like she was playing games, and she hoped he hadn’t begun to see it that way.
“Get some, girl!” Serene Hallowbrew laughed.
Ignoring her initial instinct to chide the imaginary fae, Annie allowed herself to smile, with hope. Gathering her nerves, Annie texted him back.
OK see ya soon. (sent at 7:01 pm)