“I’m not asking to date you again or—”
“Good. Because we didn’t date then and we aren’t about to do anything now. We aren’t friends,” I say over top of her objections, “we aren’t acquaintances. We aren’t anything.”
“You can’t say that.”
“I just did. Goodbye, Vanessa.”
I end the call and place my phone on the table. I imagine Vanessa’s perfume on my skin and her smile looking back at me. I can’t.
Picking up Mallory’s roller ball, I roll it onto my forearm and breathe in the scent of lavender. I’m sure it’s less to do with the oil itself and more to do with the woman that gave it to me, but as soon as fragrance hits my nose, my frustration starts to melt away.
Mallory
“There they are!” Digging through the back of the towel closet in the bathroom, I spy the container of batteries I’ve been looking for. “Why are they in here?”
Shrugging, I pull them out and take them to the kitchen to their rightful spot: the junk drawer.
The house smells like cinnamon and sugar, the sweet scent of snickerdoodle cookies. I woke up happy this morning, even though I went to bed a little down in the dumps. Leaving Graham after our yoga exercise was a moment I’ll always remember. Not because it was super sexy, because it wasn’t. It’s also not because he said anything sweet or profound, because he didn’t.
When his hand touched mine, it wasn’t with any ulterior motive. When his lips kissed my cheek, it wasn’t foreplay. When his eyes met mine, he wasn’t seeing my face or my body. He saw . . . me.
In those few seconds, a warmth rushed through me. Something was exchanged between us in that moment, something realer than we’ve experienced. As he saw me, so did I.
The way he looked at me, with respect and admiration and maybe even something else that I’m too afraid to consider, shook me. The longer his gaze lingered on me, the more I felt like the woman I’ve been searching for. And as our conversation turned to our plans for the future and he began insisting I go back to school, for business, no less, and he asked how he could help facilitate that, I felt like the world was at my feet. It was the feeling I used to have. The one I lost so long ago.
That’s what I took with me to bed and that’s what I woke up with. A feeling that maybe I’m going to be okay.
And I get to see him today. That doesn’t hurt.
Popping the cookies out of the oven, I make sure the picture frame I purchased off her registry this morning is wrapped. The tape didn’t want to stick, but it looks pretty.
The mossy green dress I wore to my first day at Landry is laid on my bed. I slip it on and add a pair of heather heels and a simple gold necklace. When I look in the mirror, I do something I don’t normally do: I genuinely smile.
For the first time in a long time, I know the girl looking back at me. I see her strength, her confidence, and while they might be cracked, they’re there. They were gone for so long.
“You’ve got this. You’re going to be okay,” I whisper in the mirror before grabbing the gift, my keys, and heading to the Savannah Room.
Mallory
THE SAVANNAH ROOM IS A beautiful estate in the city. There are grounds to walk and enjoy nature, as well as a golf course and tennis courts. In the center of the gardens is a network of old, brick buildings that have been maintained since before the Civil War. The main part is used for large gatherings, political events, weddings, and rallies. There are smaller conference rooms along the periphery.
Glancing at Graham’s text, I veer my car to the side towards the golf course. A valet greets me, says nothing about the state of the interior of my car, and whisks it away. I’m left standing in front of the clubhouse.
A gentle breeze blows across grasses, carrying with it a feeling of warmth. Of new beginnings. Tucking the gift in my arm, I climb the stairs and hear the sounds of talking and laughter right away.
The door is opened as a man exits and I duck inside. My heart is strumming in my chest as I look for Camilla or Sienna. I don’t know anyone else. I’m not sure why I’m here. It’s stupid. It’s silly. It’s—
“There you are!” I hear Sienna’s voice above everyone else. Soon after, she makes her way through the small crowd in a lilac shift dress that hits her mid-thigh, almost making her look like royalty. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
“Me too.” I must not be convincing because Sienna laughs. “I’m sorry. I am happy to be here. I’m just a bit nervous.”
“Don’t be,” she scoffs, her eyes bright. “Everyone is great. I can say that and mean it. How many girls can say that about their sisters-in-law?”
“None,” I laugh as she leads me across the room. I deposit my gift on a large table near the window overflowing with packages.
“Everyone, this is Mallory Sims. I went to school with her.”
“I remember you,” Mrs. Landry says, pulling me in for a quick hug. “How are you?”