AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“What for?”
“For this,” he admits, gesturing at me. “Many things, but this conversation in particular. You stood up to me, you held your ground, and you demonstrated a remarkable sense of self. It’s clear I don’t need to worry about you and Gus Winter. I assume you can handle him.”
“I can.”
“And you love him?”
“So much it hurts.”
“Then you should be with him. And yes, I would love to continue having lunches with you—perhaps more often. You can tell me about your new job when you find one. Any company would be lucky to have you. I heard the European markets—”
“Yeah, I’m letting you know right now: I’m going to repress the two months I spent working at Davenport-Ridgeway and have zero interest in ever discussing European markets ever again.”
“Duly noted.”
I smile. “I love you, dad. I should say it more often. I do love you.”
“I love you too. I would never cut you off, by the way. You know that.”
“I do now,” I admit with a nod before I stand and head to the door. “Oh, and dad?”
“Yes?”
“I hate kale salad,” I tell him before winking. “Something to remember for the next time I visit.”
***
The following day
When I knock on the door to the cabin, there’s no answer. I try Gus’s phone, but it immediately goes to voicemail. Confused, I take a seat on the porch swing—the one I know he built for me—and take the picture of myself.
Come and get me, August.
It doesn’t take long for him to respond this time. Minutes, in fact. When he does, I’m surprised to see his response: Are you kidding me, Julia?
Before I can ask what he’s talking about, a picture of him arrives…with Peter.
He’s in Paris.
I burst out laughing. My phone rings, and I’m still laughing when I answer Gus’s video call.
“This is our own Gift of the Magi, isn’t it?” he nearly grumbles.
“I was trying to surprise you,” I explain.
He releases a languid exhale. “Yeah, no shit. I was doing the same thing. I’m such an idiot. Do you know what happened the last time I went to Europe for a woman without telling her I was coming?”
“I’ve heard the rumors,” I deadpan.
Gus lets out another sigh and rakes his fingers through his black hair. “You know, this could be funny, but I was so ready to see you.”
“How long will it take you to get back?”
“Well, it’s fifteen hours with connections, so if I leave right now—”
“That’s insane,” I interject. “You just flew from Bozeman to Paris. You’re probably exhausted. Spend the night and come tomorrow.”
His expression darkens. “Julia, I cannot articulate clearly enough how badly I need to see you.”
