Wright with Benefits, page 24
—J
* * *
Cézanne read over my shoulder and did a little dance. “Oh boy, he’s in deep.”
My eyes were wide as I stared at the stunning blooms. They smelled amazing. They weren’t enough, but maybe they were a start. A sign that he was still thinking about me after what had happened. What girl could turn down flowers anyway?
“You going to forgive him yet?”
I set the card down with a sly smile. “Not yet.”
Tuesday was hectic.
I felt dead on my feet by the time lunch rolled around. How had Tuesday turned into such a Monday? I trekked into the cafeteria to find Cézanne. She waved me over.
“You’re late,” she accused.
I shook my head and yawned. “It’s been crazy.”
“Someone delivered pad thai from Thai Pepper for you,” she said. “I claimed it.”
I blinked. “Pad thai?”
“Yep.” Cézanne shot me the look. “No note though.”
I bit my lip in excitement.
I didn’t have to guess who had gotten it for me.
Neither did she.
“What do you think he’s going to send today?” Cézanne asked the next morning.
I rolled my eyes at her. “Nothing.”
“Psh, two days in a row, and he hasn’t called or texted? Boy has a plan. You’ll get something.”
“I don’t think so. If he wanted to make it up to me, he’d come here and apologize.”
“Would he? Or would he send you another dozen roses?”
“Shush,” I said, hitting her with my mask as I left the lounge.
Wednesday, unlike Tuesday, was dead in the ER. I never thought that was a real thing. It was always swamped. Not that the doctors let me slack or anything. I was thoroughly busy with the dreaded paperwork.
By the time I was off some blear-eyed twelve hours later, the sun was fully down, and all I wanted to do was crawl into bed and wait for tomorrow. Sutton had texted earlier to see when I was going to be home, which meant she probably wanted to hang out. I’d told her when I got off, but I really didn’t want to do anything.
I strode out with Cézanne at my side.
“I guess I was wrong.”
“How often do you say that?” I asked her.
She shrugged. “Often enough. But I really thought he’d do something.”
A woman jumped out of an idling Uber Eats car when we started down the drive. “Annie Donoghue?”
I furrowed my brows. “Uh, yes?”
“These are for you.” The woman passed me a white box with the Death by Chocolate logo on the top.
Cézanne smirked. “Never mind. I wasn’t wrong.”
I opened the lid and found a dozen chocolate-fudge cupcakes with chocolate icing. My favorite.
“Are you going to eat all of those?” she asked.
“Have one,” I offered.
She cackled. “And here we both thought that he wasn’t going to do anything.”
“I can’t believe he’s doing this. I really can’t.” I pulled out a cupcake and bit into it as we walked to our cars. It was as chocolatey delicious as I remembered. “God, these are good.”
“I can believe it,” Cézanne said. “And I’m so glad that I get to enjoy the spoils.”
I laughed and rolled my eyes at her. “You’re ridiculous.”
Carefully balancing the box of cupcakes on the hood of my car, I unlocked the door and then got inside with the dessert. My insides flipped at another day of presents. It wasn’t the same as him apologizing, but maybe this was right. Maybe a good grovel showed that he cared more than his words would. Especially after all the vitriol we’d spewed at each other.
I immediately sent a text to Sutton with a picture of the cupcake box.
Traitor. You could have warned me.
She sent back a picture of her winking.
Hopeless romantic.
Maybe Cézanne was right. Maybe he would send something else today.
“What do you think he’ll do today?” Jennifer asked excitedly from her seat on the sofa.
“I have no idea.”
“But you think he will do something?”
“Well, yesterday, I doubted him and then…”
“Cupcakes.”
“Exactly,” I agreed. “So…I don’t know.”
Then the doorbell rang.
I jumped. I put down one of yesterday’s cupcakes that I’d been having for breakfast and hurried to the door. I couldn’t even believe this was happening to me. I’d never had a guy do anything like this. Once it was done, it was done. Yet, here he was, making an effort to apologize. Not with base words, but with actions.
I peered through the door and found a guy on a bicycle. I pulled the door open slightly. “Can I help you?”
“I have a delivery for Annie Donoghue.”
“That’s me,” I said, jittery and excited by the prospect.
He passed over a large cup with the letter J&B scrawled across it. Plus, a little brown bag. I took them both from him and turned back to find Jennifer had jumped off the couch and was running to see.
“What is it? What is it? What is it?”
I took a small sip of the drink. Fuck, it was exactly how I took it. “Coffee.”
“And?” She gestured to the bag.
I opened it and found two breakfast burrito from my favorite food truck. I pulled out the first, and my name was scrawled on it. I set that one down and looked at the other with a laugh.
“What?” she asked.
I passed it to her. “It has your name on it.”
She melted. “He sent me breakfast, too?”
“Appears so. Guess he didn’t want you to go hungry.”
“Can he be my boyfriend, too?” Jennifer asked with a laugh.
I rolled my eyes. “You’re silly. I’m going into the hospital. Enjoy the burrito.”
“Can’t wait to find out about tomorrow!”
A small smile graced my features. Despite myself, I couldn’t wait either.
Friday was my day off.
I was supposed to be studying for my boards. Not wondering if Jordan was going to send me another surprise. And if he was…what it could possibly be.
Cézanne sent me a text in the middle of the day.
Anything yet?
Nope.
It’ll be there.
Then, thirty minutes later, Sutton messaged.
Have you heard from Jordan?
I haven’t.
Gah, I can’t wait to see what he has planned.
Maybe nothing.
I don’t believe that.
I didn’t either. Not anymore.
An hour later, Jennifer was in my messages.
What romantic thing happened to you today?
Nothing. Just studying.
Tell me when it happens!
What if nothing happens?
But because everyone was messaging me, I couldn’t get anything done. Eventually, I gave up and took a shower. I’d just finished and was toweling off my hair when the doorbell rang.
“God,” I grumbled, throwing on sweats and a T-shirt as I rushed for the door. “I’m coming.”
I yanked the door open and came face-to-face with a flower delivery service from my favorite boutique, The Fig & Flower.
“Annie?” the woman asked.
“Yes,” I said, looking at the roses in her hand.
“I have quite a surprise for you.”
“You do?”
“I do,” she said with a big, genuine smile.
Then I saw that there were other people behind her. Three other people in flower-shop aprons, carrying their own bouquets of flowers.
“Can I come in?”
I blindly opened the door and watched them all parade into my house, putting flowers on seemingly every surface. A few dozen on the dining room table, a few in the kitchen, the coffee table, around the television, and the side table. The house was so consumed by flowers that it felt as if my house had been transformed into a flower shop. My mouth hung open at the sheer quantity of the display.
Then the helpers disappeared, and the woman stepped up to me. “One more thing, dear.” She handed me a single red rose and an envelope. “You must have someone in your life who loves you very much.”
I could barely speak around the knot in my throat. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure. Truly.”
She walked out, and I sank into a chair at the table. I dropped the rose and the note on the table and stared around the room in shock. I couldn’t even fathom how much this must have cost him. That he’d even thought to do it.
I should open the note. I wanted to. But my hands were shaking too hard.
Instead, I got my phone out and took a video of the room with all the flowers before zeroing in on the note. Then I sent the whole thing to a group chat with Cézanne, Jennifer, and Sutton.
The texts came in instantaneously.
Jennifer: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Cézanne: Now that’s how it’s done! What’s in the card?
Sutton: OH. MY. GOD! He went all out. Look at all those flowers.
Jennifer: Note?
Sutton: Open it! Open it!
Cézanne: You’re KILLING us, Annie. Literally killing us.
Sutton: We’re dead.
Jennifer: DEAD!
I laughed at my friends and their enthusiasm. They were the best. And it gave me the courage to break the seal on the envelope with my name on it and pull out the letter.
* * *
Meet me at the barn tonight at 7 o’clock.
—J
* * *
I took a picture of the note and sent it to my friends.
Sutton: OMG! Are you going to go?
Cézanne: You have to go.
Jennifer: You absolutely do.
Sutton: Annie! What are you going to do?!?
I bit my lip. All week, he’d sent me things and not shown his face. He gave me the space I needed to deal with what had happened last weekend. And he’d done it with poise and so much romantic groveling. It’d be a lie to say he didn’t care. That he hadn’t been trying to prove he wanted to make up.
I was glad to have that week, that space. I’d anticipated the deliveries and thought about him all week. Last week had been a nightmare, a real colossal failure. But it didn’t change how I felt about Jordan. It didn’t change that I was still going to be in Lubbock this fall. And I didn’t forgive him just because he sent a few flowers or anything, but his reasoning, though misguided, had been in my best interest. He’d thought he was leaving me so that I didn’t have to choose. And he didn’t know that I’d already chosen.
It was stupid and wrong, but also selfless. Stupidly selfless.
He hadn’t wanted to hurt me and in trying not to hurt me, he’d made everything worse. But that didn’t mean I had to leave it like that. Maybe I, at least, owed him a conversation.
I texted back to my friends.
Okay…okay…I think I’m going.
40
Annie
My hand rested on the handle to the barn door.
I wasn’t the type of person to hesitate, but still, I hesitated. Last weekend had been terrible. I was a firm believer in the idea that when someone showed you who they were, you believed them. Was I going back on that after finding out who Jordan really was? Was that even who he really was?
My hand clenched the cold metal doorknob. I could walk away. I could turn around right now and walk away from all of this. And yet, I hadn’t moved.
Because I didn’t want to walk away.
I’d been a fool about Jordan Wright once before. I’d hardened my heart against him, avoided him, and done everything in my power to not think about his too-handsome face or those broad shoulders or the way he’d made me feel inexplicably complete. And it hadn’t worked. It just hadn’t worked. I’d fallen for him even harder and faster than the last time, and I didn’t want it to fucking end.
Sometimes, relationships needed work. I couldn’t run away every time it got hard. I couldn’t assume he was a bad person off of one interaction. Not after the last couple months of perfection. Didn’t he deserve a chance to prove me wrong?
So, I took a deep breath and yanked on the door, prepared to hear him out.
I gasped softly at the interior of the barn. I’d seen it all done up for the event last weekend, but it was nothing compared to what it looked like now. Jordan must have had Nora stage the place. There was no other explanation. Soft white drapery made the twinkle lights appear to be constellations across a night sky. Flowers bloomed in bouquets around the room, interspersed with every size candle imaginable. The room glowed with flickering candlelight, and at its center was Jordan Wright.
My breath caught at the sight of him in a sharp suit and tie, standing with his hands in his pockets, waiting for me.
“Hey,” I said as I came to stand before him. My eyes continued to scan the room, unsure if I should settle entirely on him. “This is elaborate.”
He smiled. Such a Jordan smile. Soft on the edges with his eyes lighting up. “I thought you might need elaborate.”
“You could have started with I’m sorry.”
He finished the last step between us. “I’m sorry.”
“You’re right. Probably not enough.”
“Probably not,” he agreed with a small laugh. “Worth a try though.”
“Suppose so.”
I fiddled with my fingers, distinctly feeling the absence of my ring. I was so used to twirling it when I was nervous.
“Do you know why I bought the winery?” he finally asked.
I blinked at the change in subject. It wasn’t what I’d expected. “Because Hollin and Julian cajoled you into it.”
“Well, that’s the reason I got involved, but not the reason I eventually said yes.”
I shrugged. “No, you never mentioned.”
He held his arms out, gesturing to the barn around him. “When I looked at this barn, I saw a dirt-filled piece of junk that we’d sink way too much money into to ever make it profitable. It was a bad investment, and I didn’t want to do it. But when we came over to look at the place, something hit me at the sight of it.” He sighed. “This was our first date. You brought me to this ridiculous bar and tried to get me to line dance. I hadn’t laughed that much in years. I was smitten. And I wasn’t ready to let those memories be demolished. I wanted to keep them. So, every time I walked inside, I saw you in cowboy boots with that effervescent smile on your face.”
I swallowed hard at his words. “What do you see now?”
“You throwing this ring at me,” he said, holding the claddagh ring up to the light. “And how much I completely fucked it up.”
“Yeah, you did.”
“There’s not an excuse for how I reacted last week. I cut you out of my life while I tried to deal with my mom’s news. Then I overreacted to everything and treated you horribly. I’m so sorry for all of that. I was worried about my mom and her dealing with cancer again that I couldn’t process anything. I thought I was making the right decision by letting you go. I couldn’t even see that I was making the decision for you and not with you.”
I swallowed. “Yeah, I thought we were a team.”
“I know. I’m sorry about that. I had a long talk with my mom about it. She was actually the one who suggested the groveling.”
I chuckled. “She’s a smart woman.”
“She is. She really is. For so long, I’ve thought that I was a mirror image of my father. That I hurt the people closest to me, and I had no control over the fury that burned through me. But my mom made me realize that I’m not just like my dad. That I get to choose who I am. And I choose to never be that person ever again.”
“Sounds like a good start.”
“And I want you to know that Seattle…” He shook his head, taking a step forward and reaching for my hand. I thought I’d pull away, but God, his hand felt so right in mine. “Seattle was never a pipe dream. I shouldn’t have said that. It was what I really wanted.”
“Me too,” I whispered.
“I know this won’t make up for how I reacted last weekend, but I might have a solution.”
I tilted my head. “A solution to what?”
“Seattle.”
“Oh. There’s no solution to that, Jordan. Once ranks are in, that’s that.”
“I know that that is normally how it works,” he assured me. “But I decided to see if there was a way around it. So, I spent the last week on the phone with Cush figuring out who to speak to about the position. You earned it on your own merit, I just pulled the strings to make it happen.”
My body froze in place. My brain couldn’t catch up to the words that he was saying. I blinked and blinked again. This couldn’t be real. It just…it wasn’t possible.
“What are you saying?”
“Seattle is going to offer you a place in their residency program,” he told me. “And I want to go with you, Annie.”
My hands were shaking. “How…how is that possible? I just…I can’t believe it, Jordan.”
“You only chose Lubbock because of me. I’ll be damned if you stay here and regret it.” He took my hands in his. “I want you to have everything, Annie. Everything and more.”
“But…what about your mom?” I gasped.
“I spoke to her and Julian. We discussed me leaving and they both agreed that this was different than last time. I was going to stay in Vancouver for no real reason except complacency. If I wanted to be with you, then leaving made sense.”
“But your job…”
“I’d already discussed it with Morgan.”
My eyes widened. “You had?”
He nodded. “Long before I knew about this. She said I could work in a Seattle office and commute on and off to Vancouver. I would do anything to make it work.”
Tears formed in my eyes. Damn it! I’d sworn that I wouldn’t cry. But somehow, that stupid comment had hit me so hard in the feels. Because I had wanted Seattle and I wanted to make it work so bad, too. I’d wanted what he’d had there that weekend so bad.
