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6
Heather
The drive into the city is uncomfortable, to say the least. Baxter had said some very hateful things, but he doesn’t know anything about me, not really. I’d not disclosed my work history to him. Not the twenty-hour days where I’d slept in snatches as I got my first line of clothing ready. I didn’t tell him how I’d worked so hard sewing those first articles of clothes my fingers bled. The first store had almost killed me. Back then I was sinking fast and bankruptcy had loomed.
He didn’t know I was a CEO of a company that might go international in a few months. I thought of telling him everything, but now it was too late. If I told him I did understand his headaches and his pain, it would give him an easy out. He wouldn’t have to figure out what type of man he wanted to be.
Baxter stops the car, and I open my door. He jumps out when there is a break in traffic and runs around, opening the back door. Before I can grab my bag, he's tugging it out.
“Can I see you this week? Maybe we could go to dinner on Wednesday.”
My heart is sore and my head hurts. I can’t, not yet. I shake my head though I wanted to say yes. Baxter is a good guy, kind of, but he has issues. I can’t help him this time.
“I don’t know.”
He looks crestfallen. “It doesn’t have to be a date. Just us two eating food at the same table.”
I shake my head. “I’m not some girl you can string along.”
“I’m not stringing you along. I’m serious this time, Heather, I’m not using you. I want to get to know you. I’m not going to try to get you to fix me then run off. This time, it’s real.”
I want to believe him. There have been few men I’ve ever felt a deep connection with. My connection to Baxter is stronger than any other I’ve ever experienced. “I just can’t, not yet.”
“Okay, how about lunch?” Baxter asks.
My mouth falls open and I shake my head. “You’ll actually break away from work?”
“For you, I will. But you do realize after the words I said to my father, he may make sure I don’t have a job come Monday.”
I had my suspicions, but I wasn’t sure if Baxter’s dad could fire him. The desire to see him outweighs my hesitation. “Okay, lunch on Wednesday.”
Baxter pulls me close and I want to push away. He doesn’t try to kiss me, maybe he notices my stiff spine and tight muscles, either way, he backs off.
“I’ll call you later.”
I nod, not wanting to argue. I head up to my apartment, but my soul is damaged and I don't want to be alone. I need to revive so I head to my favorite place in the city. Central Park relaxes me. It's the oasis I need when life is too harsh.
My sketch pad is tucked in my backpack. It takes one full lap around the reservoir before I can head to the Turtle Pond and sketch a new pattern. This design is going to be for silk scarves. I haven’t done any scarves in a while, but it’s something I want to add to my collection. The pattern of turtles and lily pads is heavily influenced by my location. After a few minutes of drawing, I notice I’ve placed buttercups near the fringe. It’s a subtle stripe of yellow that reminds me of Baxter. He’s in my mind, and no matter how far I run from him, I’m going to have to confront my feelings.
I swing by the store before closing, happy to see five people shopping. Marci and Bree were the only employees in the store and they were both working hard to please the customers. I deposit my bag in the back and begin ringing up purchases, attributing the commissions to the women working the floor. There was something satisfying about helping people find clothes they love. Two more women come in, gushing over a new pair of pants which had been delivered over the weekend.
After almost an hour the store empties. Bree and Marci both laughed and gave me high fives.
“That was so good,” Marci says.
Happiness fills me. This is what I love, what I worked so hard for. “Excellent rush. You both are amazing.”
“You’re back in town early.” Marci lifts her eyebrows before turning to replace items that didn’t fit the customers.
“He needed to come back and work.” The lie rolls off my tongue easily.
Both women look at me like they know better.
I go into my office and pull up my email. I need to head to California to sort out a few issues. I mull over timing. On the one hand, doing a surprise visit would keep them on their toes. After looking at the last set of financial data from both California stores earlier in the week, I know they are already on their toes and getting better. I need to get away though and this is a great excuse.
Another customer comes in and I shut the door to my office. Tea calls to me and I pour a cup then sink into the chair behind my desk. I drop my head and tears come. Being with Baxter’s family had been stressful. After a few minutes, I wipe my tears away and start looking at flights. There is one that leaves in the afternoon on Monday. I think about lunch on Wednesday with Baxter, but I can’t face him. I book the flight, thinking I’m taking the cowards way out.
I feel energized again. Eventually, I’ll need to find someone to manage my stores. But would that leave me out of touch with people? I loved being right in the action, talking to the women who wear my products. But something needs to change. The rush I’d walked in on wasn’t an anomaly. More women were buying my clothes, which was a good thing, but could I keep up with demand?
