Unwrapping Holly

“You’re my thing,” he said. “At least until I’m done with you.”

I smiled sweetly. “Well, are you done with me?”

“For now,” he grinned back.

My stomach felt like a butterfly zoo. I couldn’t believe this was happening. Donovan! Asking me out! And this time there was no doubt about it. This time it was most definitely going to be a date…

I couldn’t wait to tell Jocelyn.

“I’ll text you,” he said, before turning away. “But remember: Saturday night, you and me.”

I nodded mechanically. Like a schoolgirl being talked to by her biggest crush.

“Okay.”

“Be hungry,” he ordered. “But for right now? Treadmill. Thirty minutes. And I’d better see sweat when you leave.”

Damn. I was hoping he’d forgotten.

“I’ll do my best,” I said. “Been a few weeks though, so I’ll have to go slow.”

Donovan chuckled as he walked away. “No matter how slow you go, you’re still lapping everybody on the couch.”

Four

HOLLY

It was one of those rare glorious days, where the weather tells the current season to fuck off. In this case the skies were a pristine, cerulean blue. Totally unblemished by clouds, they were full of sunshine and warmth and promise.

Despite full winter being only days away, the temperatures had somehow climbed into the sixty-degree range. I had my ass firmly parked on a bench in Washington Square Park. Surrounded by sprawling green grass and skeletal trees that, just a few short weeks ago, had been exploding with fiery fall color.

Little things like that had astonished me the first year I was here. Simple things the locals always took for granted, like golden leaves and thousand-foot skyscrapers. Underground tunnel systems, flinging metal tubes packed wall-to-wall with people in every conceivable direction.

I had my face buried in the most boring of all possible literature: my CPA prep-book. The NYU campus loomed over my shoulder, a constant reminder that I had no less than three big finals coming up next week.

But that was okay. It was Friday. And Friday was my day.

Yes, it was the day I’d chosen to take all my classes. But once the morning was gone, I had the rest of the day all to myself. Friday was when I walked the streets of Manhattan, dipping randomly into shops and coffee houses and bookstores along the way. I went to museums. Saw plays on Broadway. Did anything I wanted, really, once I got my side work done and my studies out of the way.

Even then, shopping the City was like homework for my second job anyway. It gave me ideas on clever gifts to buy. I kept current on the latest fashions, just as eyeballing the millions of colorful people teeming the streets kept me up to date on the latest trends.

Most of all I loved the freedom. Malcolm worked late on Fridays — presumably so he could golf all weekend — so while we were dating I didn’t even have to be home at any particular time. School aside, Fridays were my day off from everything. Especially days like today, which I considered a rare, precious gift.

I flipped the page, trying to keep my focus on more of the mind-numbing jargon. Accounting wasn’t my first choice in life. It wasn’t like every little girl grew up hoping to stick a pencil in her ear and maintain spreadsheets on profit/loss statements.

No, I’d wanted to do other things of course. Accounting was what happened when I took something I was already good at and added the pressing need to pay an exorbitant rent… even in a rent-controlled building.

Right now though, I didn’t want to think about any of those things. I just wanted to inhale the crisp, fresh air. Enjoy the feeling of being surrounded by grass and dirt again — if only for a little while — rather than tons of glass and rebar and concrete.

I’d been on the bench nearly an hour when I saw him looking; the cute guy on the other side of the clearing. He was leaning against a tree, eating an apple. Staring at me… but not creepily. Almost as if he were looking with a certain, permissible familiarity. Which—

“OOOF!”

My heart nearly leapt through my chest as the jogger fell sideways against me. He came seemingly from out of nowhere. His body bounced from the bench, his momentum barely slowing as he spun away from me with an apologetic grunt and continued to run.

“I—”

Only now he was running away with my bag.