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Stressed out by the mistakes of my past? What the hell is he even talking about?
I count the hundred-dollar bills on the counter.
There are one hundred of them.
That’s ten thousand dollars in cash just sitting out on my kitchen counter.
What mistake from my past is worth ten grand?
As soon as the thought registers in my brain, I run to my closet.
“Holy shit,” I whisper as I take in the now-empty shelves. I run my hand along the middle shelf. It’s all gone, and in its place is the cash I wish I would’ve held onto in the first place.
I never used the products. I didn’t like the way they smelled, and having to sell them made me realize how very much I am not cut out for direct sales.
Yet I was dumb enough to purchase ten grand worth of products with the promise of bonuses and vacations and even a car.
I didn’t get any of them. Not a single one. They made it seem so easy when I sold out of my welcome pack right away, but once people realized how cheap the products actually were, I had little chance at success.
I have no idea how he offloaded all that stuff, but I feel very grateful.
I think about sending a text of gratitude, but a phone call feels more personal and genuine.
“Hey, Cookie,” he answers. His voice is warm and rich in my ear.
“Thank you for what you did,” I say softly.
“You’re welcome.”
“How’d you do it?” I can’t help but ask the question.
“I looked up local independent consultants, picked one who seemed like she had a lot of interaction on her Instagram page, and sold it to her.”
My brows rise.
That’s actually…a lot of work. Plus, he hauled it all out of here, and there were nearly seven hundred products in there.
Today was his one day off. He spent it making sure I knew that he was trying to prove he had changed.
And he did.
“That was really sweet, Grayson. I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to thank you.”
“You don’t need to do anything. But I wouldn’t be opposed to, you know, having you come over so we can make up and put all this to rest.”
I blow out a breath. “As tempting as that is…I told you. I can’t run back and risk being hurt again. This time was hard enough, and I can’t put myself through that again. Not when you so strongly believe we’re doomed from the start, and not when my feelings for you run so deep.”
He clears his throat, and I’m ready for the protest.
I don’t get it.
“Okay. I understand.”
“You do?” I ask, clear awe in my tone.
He chuckles. “Yes. If you’re not ready to take me back, then that means I still have work to do.”
