I promise you that I will not take advantage of any opportunities that come my way because of the leaked video. All I want is a chance to show you how sorry I am for not realizing what a precious Christmas present you had given me.
I love—
Erase. Erase.
He didn’t want to say too much without seeing her—without being able to gaze into her eyes. He wanted her to see how much she meant to him.
He concluded the email with a simple: Jackson.
His finger hovered over the send button. He reread each word, evaluating its meaning and wondering if he could do anything to make the email more powerful. He knew he was overthinking everything. But this message was all he had at this point.
He knew that she would see the subject line before she pressed Delete. And he only had two words for it.
I’m sorry.
His gut was telling him that this wasn’t the right way to do things. He could do better. The cursor moved back and forth between Send and Delete.
He pressed Delete.
He needed to woo her over and an email wouldn’t do it. This was going to take him pulling out all of the stops. He had to show Serena how much she meant to him.
It was still early—before noon. Perhaps there would still be some shops open. With a plan in mind, he rushed out of his rented room, down the steps and out the door. The sidewalks were busy with people bustling around with last-minute shopping before the big day.
A group of young people stopped on the sidewalk to sing to a growing audience. Jackson got caught up in the lurkers. He paused to listen to their harmonious and joyful voices. It wouldn’t have been so long ago when he would have walked right past such an exhibition, unmoved and uncaring. But he was beginning to see all the wonderful things around him when he slowed down and paid attention.
After their first song, Jackson continued down the sidewalk. Thanks to his visit here with Serena, he remembered a few of the stores in the town square. He just hoped they were still open.
His first stop was the florist. He picked out every long-stem red rose and for double the usual delivery fee he was able to have them sent to Serena right away. He attached a
note:
This is only the beginning...
J
The singers were still entertaining people as Jackson made his way to the jewelry store. He was going to get Serena a real Christmas present. One that was all wrapped in shiny paper and tied up with a red bow. It would be a gift that told her exactly how he felt about her.
The jewelry store had exactly what he had in mind. And his plan was taking shape. On his way out of the store, he knew what else he needed in order to get Serena’s full attention.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
READING WAS GOOD.
They said that it could be an escape from reality. And right now, Serena needed to escape from the mess she’d made of her life. After all, no way did an actress and a television journalist belong together. Just the thought of it would have made her father roll in his grave.
Serena focused on the words on the page. Her eyes scanned the sentence and then the next. By the time she got to the third sentence, she’d forgotten what she’d read in the beginning.
And so she returned to the beginning of the paragraph, intent on reading this reference book on writing screenplays. She really did enjoy writing her first screenplay and though her second had hit a snag, she was certain if she kept at it, the story would come together.
Just over the top of the book, she spotted the large bouquet of red roses that Jackson had sent her. She rested the book against her chest as she continued to stare at the beautiful blossoms nestled in a sea of baby’s breath. She’d placed them on the coffee table.
She should probably just get rid of them—out of sight, out of mind. But they were so beautiful. It would be a crime to do away with them.
But it was the attached card that had stirred her interest. What had Jackson meant by saying this was just the beginning? Had he had a change of heart? Were these flowers something that he’d planned before their big blowup? If so, he obviously didn’t know that red roses symbolized unconditional love.
Her contemplation came to a halt as she heard not one, but multiple car engines. This was followed by a string of car doors closing. Gizmo awoke from his nap and started his guard dog routine of bark-bark-howl. Bark-bark-howl. Repeat. He took off toward the door to defend his home.
Serena tried to hear beyond the dog. It sounded like there was a whole army descending on the cabin—wait, no, not an army.