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I head home, happy to have made some decisions but still mulling over others. Going to California would help me focus. I need the time away to think, and I always think better after a trip out west.
When Baxter calls me on Sunday night, I let it slip to voicemail. I can’t deal with him or the problems he’s brought into my life. The flight on Monday is uneventful. When I land in California, I feel like I’ve taken a breath of fresh air.
I need to call Baxter, but I really don’t want to. He hurt me, and I don’t want to talk to him, but I needed to inform him I won’t make it for lunch.
The phone rings twice and I check my watch, it was eight in the evening so he shouldn’t be working. Just as it was about to roll to voicemail, he answers.
“Hello, Heather?”
His voice weaves through me, leaving me longing. I don’t want to want him, but I do. “Yes, it’s me.”
“I was about to call and ask if you wanted to get a drink.”
“Um…well.” I hesitate, wishing I’d called him the night before to tell him my plans. But I don’t owe him anything, not really. “I’m in California.”
"What?" The panic in his voice is unmistakable.
“I flew out yesterday.”
He says nothing when I expected hate or anger. Instead, he sighs. “Okay. So I guess we won’t be able to eat lunch tomorrow.”
I’m a little disappointed he’s taking this so well. If he’d yelled or screamed, I would have been able to dump him easily. This kinder, nicer Baxter has left me intrigued. He’s not perfect, but neither am I. “No, I won’t be back until Friday, late.”
“Let me pick you up from the airport.”
Shock pulses through me. “What? Really? It’s JFK.”
“I’m fine with that. I’ll pick you up and take you to dinner. I want to see you.”
I stare at my nails, studying the polish. He is being nice. I want this to be real. I want him to be the kind man I remember from school. I nod though he can’t see me.
"Okay. I'll send you my flight details." The bubble of stress eases, leaving me feeling relief.
“Thank you. I’ll see you on Friday. Have a good week in California.”
“Thank you. I will.”
I hang up and wonder if seeing him on Friday is going to make a difference in how I feel. Anger churns in my belly at the memory of his words. I was making a big deal out of this, and maybe I shouldn’t, but I was angry. He’d assumed so many things about me. It wasn’t fair, but there was nothing rational about my feelings for him. Time away would help me clear my head.
Working in California, visiting my shops in Hollywood and San Francisco gives me a boost. One of the actresses I’m dressing for the Met Gala meets with me so I can take final measurements. I show her the fabric I plan on using and her excitement is contagious. Now, I’m more excited than ever to finish the dress.
My nerves hit on Friday when I’m midway home. Baxter will be waiting for me. I can’t allow myself to head down a path that will lead to anger and hate. Anger causes too much friction and blocks my creativity. If I can’t create, it’s all over. Sure, I have next season’s designs already done, but I need to figure out the season after next.
When I check my phone as I step off the plane, there is a text from Baxter. He's waiting near the baggage claim. I stop by the bathroom and freshen up before heading to the baggage area. My belly flutters and my heart speeds up when I see him. He does induce a certain reaction in me. No question, Baxter is sexy, but it’s more than looks, it’s him. The thought scares me, but I don’t have time to wallow in my fright.
“Hey, Heather, I missed you.” Baxter grabs my carry-on bag and shoulders it. “Point out your suitcase and I’ll grab it.”
I’m a little disappointed he doesn’t kiss me. I want to feel his lips on mine, but he’s being reserved. I place my hand on his arm and his smile deepens. “The suitcase is red and huge.”
Baxter lowers his head just a little but still doesn’t kiss me. “You smell nice.”
I lift up on my toes and brush my lips over his. I want him, even if I can’t say the words to him. “Thank you.” His scent is in my nose and I want it all over my skin. I’m a fool for wanting sex without seeing if he’s changed, but I guess I can play the fool well.
I’m a little surprised he hasn’t made demands or acted like a jerk while I’ve been gone. When he’d lived in California, he’d been a little peevish if I couldn’t get together with him. Maybe that had kept us apart then. Now, he’s being respectful of my wishes. His attitude is attractive, and I can see myself falling for him.
Honestly, this last week in California was perfect for me. It gave me time to think. I reevaluated my life, how I felt about Baxter, and what I wanted. I'd been a little harsh when Baxter had said those things in Connecticut. Maybe he really was worth a second chance.
A faint smile plays at his lips as he grabs my bag, not saying anything about the weight. I’d brought back samples and clothes from one of my other stores. I could have mailed them, but I wanted them this weekend so I could play with the fabric and make something new.
