Dear Heart, I Hate You

Jules: 13 days!!!

This was going to be the best and the worst countdown in history—the best because of what we were counting down to, and the worst because thirteen days suddenly felt like an eternal string of twenty-four-hour periods that would never end.

Thankfully, work kept me busy with house showings and new property listings that popped up every day. Staying busy kept my mind distracted and occupied so I didn’t slip into a Cal-induced countdown coma. Or at least, it tried. He was a powerful force, that boy from Boston.

I’d kept in touch with Robin from the conference and could practically feel her excitement when she responded to my email about Cal’s impending visit. She wrote something inappropriate, reminding me that I was living for the two of us now, and not only did it make me laugh, but it made me miss her as well. She also offered me a job every other day, in case I wanted to “come land that man before she left her husband for him.”

During a break between showing properties, I pulled into a liquor store parking lot and sent Cal a text. I hoped he would respond quickly so I didn’t have to come back later.

Jules: Do you have a favorite bourbon, or do you love them all?

Lucky for me, he responded right away.

Dream Lips: Blanton’s Original is my favorite. Plus, I collect the tops. I know; I’m a nerd.

Jules: The tops? No clue what you’re talking about, but thank you! ’Bye!

I wanted Cal to have something at my house that he loved, and I figured bourbon would be a good place to start. Plus, we had a little history with the stuff, and I’d grown a soft spot for it somewhere between learning to drink it properly in that hotel lobby and now. Not that I’d probably ever drink it on my

own, but still.

With absolutely zero bourbon knowledge, I scoured the liquor store’s bourbon aisle and found more selections than I ever knew existed. I found Blanton’s almost immediately, the unique bottle a standout from all the rest. Instead of being tall, it had a rounded bottom that was both intricate in its design and stylish, while still looking classic.

Once I’d paid for a bottle, I tossed it onto the passenger seat of my car and opened the photo app on my phone so I could scroll through the pictures of us together for the millionth time. As always, I smiled at how happy we looked. Those photos never got old, no matter how many times I stared at them before bed each night, or how many times I pulled them up during the day. They never failed to make my heart flutter and my pulse race.

Only thirteen more days until Cal would be here. How would I ever make it until then without going totally crazy?

I had to chuckle at the thought as I drove along the Pacific Coast Highway on the way back to my office. No, Cal and I hadn’t known each other long, but it didn’t seem to matter when I thought about how he made me feel. I could pretend I didn’t look forward to our nightly phone calls, but that would be a lie.

And now I looked forward to them even more. Knowing I’d get to see him soon changed things for me. It gave all our communication a little more meaning, as if there was a light at the end of the tunnel. A light and a pair of dream-worthy lips.

My phone rang inside my car, startling me. I was surprised to see Tami calling at this time in the afternoon. She was usually either in court or prepping for it.

“Hey,” I answered.

“Hey, yourself! I just got out of court.”

“Already?”

“The judge is puking in her chambers. I’ve never seen someone’s face turn green before, Jules. Sure, they make cartoon characters do it all the time, but I thought that was just for fun. I didn’t realize it was a real thing.”

“You’re disgusting.”

“I know. Listen, I wanted to come over. How late are you working tonight?”

“I’m heading back to the office now, and I have a showing at three thirty. I should be home around five, at the latest.”

“Okay. I’m just gonna let myself in,” she said through a yawn. Tami not only knew the security code to get into my gated community, she also had the only spare key to my apartment.

“All right. I’ll see you when I get home.”

After Tami ended the call, I wondered if I’d find her asleep when I got home. She enjoyed pretending that the guest bedroom that doubled as my home office belonged to her. I always found new spare clothes of hers hanging in the closet after she’d spent the night, and some days it felt as if she’d all but moved into the guest bathroom with the amount of toiletries and makeup she left there.

I used to pray she’d leave her pink contacts so I could throw them out, but she’d only left the most ridiculous pair of turquoise ones once. That night when we’d gone out, guys had complimented her on her unusual eye color, asking who she took after in her family, her mother’s side or her father’s. Idiots.

Malibu didn’t have much choice in the way of affordable rental units, and the majority of apartment complexes in the area were old and outdated. When I first toured my apartment complex, I fell in love on the spot. While it unfortunately didn’t have an ocean view, the entire property had been landscaped to look and feel as if you lived in an island resort. The trees were lush, vibrant, and perfectly aligned with the benches, picnic areas, fountains, and hammocks that were scattered across the acreage, all to give the common areas a Zen-like feel.

My apartment was a two-bedroom unit that was almost as big as the house I’d grown up in. It wasn’t that I needed that much space for just me, but when I first looked here, it was either that or rent an even larger three-bedroom. The frugal side of me wanted to walk out of there and say no, but the practical side reminded me that I could easily afford the rent, and that my options in Malibu were somewhat limited.