scared over what’s to come.
—
“He’s got a huge package, right? Tell me I’m right,” Stevie says as he blows across his caramel macchiato to cool it down.
“I’m not telling you any such thing,” I grumble as I sip at my iced coffee. “Those details are for me and me alone.”
“Aha,” Stevie exclaims and everyone in Starbucks turns to look at him. Leaning in toward me, he whispers, “There’s details, so that means you know exactly how big his package is, and I’m guessing you know exactly how he works that equipment.”
I snicker and my cheeks fire red, but I hold my tongue. Yes, those details about what happened last night are for only me. They will remain in my memory, and I’ll draw upon them when I want to erase the ugliness from my thoughts.
“I didn’t think it would happen,” I ponder out loud. “I mean…I hadn’t intended for it to, but I don’t know…I just—”
“Just wanted something that was good…exciting…something to take your mind off your troubles,” Stevie supplies knowingly. “And I say, good for you, girl. Are you going to see him again or was this a one-time-only thing?”
“We’re going out tonight again, but honestly…Garrett isn’t a long-haul kind of guy, and frankly, at this point, I’m not sure I’m a long-haul kind of girl.”
“Stop it,” Stevie hisses at me. “Don’t ever say that again. You and I are going to grow old together. I’m going to look fabulous when I’m eighty because I’ll have had plenty of plastic surgery and Botox, and I’m going to have a fabulous sequined quilt to lay over my bony legs. You’re going to be a beautiful silver fox, and we’re going to sit on the front porch and sip mimosas all day long.”
I smile at the imagery and at the confidence with which he boasts of such things. It’s a beautiful picture and I truly want that to occur. Although I had sort of thought when I got to be eighty I’d be surrounded by my children and their children, not by Stevie wrapped in a sequined quilt.
“Sounds like I might be out of work for a few days,” I tell Stevie thoughtfully. “At least tomorrow and the next day while I get my treatments, and then the day after that I’ll be a bit late since I have the PET scan. And even if I’m sick, we can just put a garbage can next to the design table for me to puke in.”
Stevie looks horrified over my joke. “No fucking way. I want you to take at least a week off. More if you need it. I got the store covered.”
“Stevie,” I say in warning, “I don’t want you to treat me like an invalid. I need to feel normal, and normal to me is working.”
“I can’t stand puke. It will make me sick,” he says adamantly.
“Then I promise to puke in the bathroom, but seriously, you heard Dr. Yoffman. He’ll give me medicine that will combat that, and he said it should only last a few days.”
“You can’t overdo it, though. You have to promise to listen to your body, and if it demands rest, you need to give it rest. Which means that Garrett’s going to have to lay off of you for a few days.”
Oh, God. I never even thought of that. I hadn’t planned on telling Garrett anything, because I had assumed that after tonight, I’d never see him again. In fact, I know tonight has to be the last night, because after that I am truly going to be out of sex commission due to my treatments.
Tonight is it for me. I’ll have one more night with Garrett, and I’m sure it will be a spectacular night, but then it’s time to part ways. He has more carousing to do, and I have cancer to fight.
Chapter 9
Garrett
I push open the door to Fleurish and saunter in. I’m not supposed to pick up Olivia until eight tonight at her apartment, but I just couldn’t fucking help myself. I wanted to see her before then.
Stevie is helping a customer…some big thug-looking dude with a hangdog look on his face. I’m guessing he’s in the market for some apology flowers.
Stevie’s head swivels
—
“He’s got a huge package, right? Tell me I’m right,” Stevie says as he blows across his caramel macchiato to cool it down.
“I’m not telling you any such thing,” I grumble as I sip at my iced coffee. “Those details are for me and me alone.”
“Aha,” Stevie exclaims and everyone in Starbucks turns to look at him. Leaning in toward me, he whispers, “There’s details, so that means you know exactly how big his package is, and I’m guessing you know exactly how he works that equipment.”
I snicker and my cheeks fire red, but I hold my tongue. Yes, those details about what happened last night are for only me. They will remain in my memory, and I’ll draw upon them when I want to erase the ugliness from my thoughts.
“I didn’t think it would happen,” I ponder out loud. “I mean…I hadn’t intended for it to, but I don’t know…I just—”
“Just wanted something that was good…exciting…something to take your mind off your troubles,” Stevie supplies knowingly. “And I say, good for you, girl. Are you going to see him again or was this a one-time-only thing?”
“We’re going out tonight again, but honestly…Garrett isn’t a long-haul kind of guy, and frankly, at this point, I’m not sure I’m a long-haul kind of girl.”
“Stop it,” Stevie hisses at me. “Don’t ever say that again. You and I are going to grow old together. I’m going to look fabulous when I’m eighty because I’ll have had plenty of plastic surgery and Botox, and I’m going to have a fabulous sequined quilt to lay over my bony legs. You’re going to be a beautiful silver fox, and we’re going to sit on the front porch and sip mimosas all day long.”
I smile at the imagery and at the confidence with which he boasts of such things. It’s a beautiful picture and I truly want that to occur. Although I had sort of thought when I got to be eighty I’d be surrounded by my children and their children, not by Stevie wrapped in a sequined quilt.
“Sounds like I might be out of work for a few days,” I tell Stevie thoughtfully. “At least tomorrow and the next day while I get my treatments, and then the day after that I’ll be a bit late since I have the PET scan. And even if I’m sick, we can just put a garbage can next to the design table for me to puke in.”
Stevie looks horrified over my joke. “No fucking way. I want you to take at least a week off. More if you need it. I got the store covered.”
“Stevie,” I say in warning, “I don’t want you to treat me like an invalid. I need to feel normal, and normal to me is working.”
“I can’t stand puke. It will make me sick,” he says adamantly.
“Then I promise to puke in the bathroom, but seriously, you heard Dr. Yoffman. He’ll give me medicine that will combat that, and he said it should only last a few days.”
“You can’t overdo it, though. You have to promise to listen to your body, and if it demands rest, you need to give it rest. Which means that Garrett’s going to have to lay off of you for a few days.”
Oh, God. I never even thought of that. I hadn’t planned on telling Garrett anything, because I had assumed that after tonight, I’d never see him again. In fact, I know tonight has to be the last night, because after that I am truly going to be out of sex commission due to my treatments.
Tonight is it for me. I’ll have one more night with Garrett, and I’m sure it will be a spectacular night, but then it’s time to part ways. He has more carousing to do, and I have cancer to fight.
Chapter 9
Garrett
I push open the door to Fleurish and saunter in. I’m not supposed to pick up Olivia until eight tonight at her apartment, but I just couldn’t fucking help myself. I wanted to see her before then.
Stevie is helping a customer…some big thug-looking dude with a hangdog look on his face. I’m guessing he’s in the market for some apology flowers.
Stevie’s head swivels
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