Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 103119 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103119 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
Enough about me. I am nowhere near as interesting as you are. I’ll say this. I believe that if you’re brave enough to write a secret admirer letter to someone, you’re brave enough to evolve, if that’s what you want. Maybe writing back will inspire me to do the same.
Sincerely,
Julian
“Well?” Lavinia called from her stump. “What is the temperature?”
Hallie had no earthly clue. He’d gone way more in-depth than she was expecting. It reminded her of the conversation they’d had in the kitchen. Emotional. Honest. Only, this time, he’d had it with someone else. On one hand, his words had spread a balm over a wound inside of her. You’re brave enough to evolve. On the other, it felt worse than if he’d asked to meet the mystery person. Or expressed serious romantic interest.
Tears pricked against the backs of her eyelids. “Um.” She quickly folded the letter up and stowed it in the pocket of her hoodie. “I would say he’s cautiously interested. Complimentary but not flirtatious. He leaves it open-ended for more correspondence.”
When Lavinia didn’t respond right away, Hallie knew her friend had picked up on the hurt in her tone. “Are you going to write him again?” Lavinia finally asked, quietly.
“I don’t know.” Hallie tried to laugh, but it sounded forced. “None of my impulsive decisions have resulted in actual pain before. Maybe that’s a good sign to stop.”
“I have a lighter in my pocket. Shall we go burn him at the stake?”
“Nah.” Hallie turned, giving her friend a grateful look. “I hear they don’t even have shrimp and garlic linguine in prison.”
“I guess we’ll let the lucky prick live,” Lavinia muttered, pushing to her feet. Coming to stand beside Hallie, she put an arm around her shoulder, and they both stared out over the top of the vines. “You did something sort of brash, babe, but I have to tell you, I fucking admire you for taking a shot and doing something a little wild. Once in a while, a good thing comes from a shot of sudden bravery.”
“Just not this time.”
Lavinia didn’t answer. Just squeezed Hallie’s shoulders.
“This is a good thing,” Hallie said slowly, watching her breath turn into fog. “I needed a wake-up call. Since Rebecca left us, I’ve fallen into this pattern of disorganized commotion. I don’t want to acknowledge how bad it hurts to be alone now. And I don’t know what happens next in my life. So I just . . . kept finding ways to avoid making decisions. To avoid being the Hallie I was when she was around, because it’s too hard to do it alone.” She closed her eyes and squared her shoulders. “But I can. I’m ready. I need to grow up now and stop making these . . .” She gestured to the stump. “Ridiculous choices. Starting tomorrow, I’m turning over a new leaf.”
“Why not start tonight?”
“I need closure.” Again, her gaze rested on the stump. “I need to tell him good-bye first.”
* * *
The letter was already gone.
Julian stared down at the stump with a pit in his stomach.
It was nearing one o’clock in the morning. They’d been home for an hour, but he’d spent it convincing Natalie to go to bed, instead of cracking open a bottle of champagne and playing an old version of Yahtzee she’d found in the hallway closet. As soon as he’d heard his sister sawing logs through her bedroom door, he’d booked it up the path to take back the piece of communication, but obviously he’d been too late. His secret admirer had retrieved the envelope while he was at the party. And he supposed that eliminated everyone who was there tonight. Why did that surprise him? Had he been holding out a small amount of dumb hope that his admirer was Hallie?
Idiot.
Why would she admire someone who was a rainstorm compared to her sunshine?
She’d been the one to point out they were too different and should only be friends.
He agreed, of course. Of course. He did.
Still. God, why did he feel so slimy? Despite the dropping temperature, the back of his neck was covered in sweat. He had no choice but to return home, carrying mounting senses of dread and shame behind him like chains, knowing he’d written back to a stranger while he was—let’s face it—infatuated with someone else.
What the hell was he going to do now?
Chapter Fifteen
Julian jogged down Grapevine Way that afternoon, his pace slowing when he spied the lazy-Sunday line of people on the sidewalk. But this time, they weren’t waiting outside UNCORKED. They were patiently waiting their turn to get inside Corked. Others were emerging with bottles of his family’s wine in their hands, tied up in ribbons.
He made a sound in his throat, nodded once, and moved at a faster clip to make up for lost time. After running more than a block, he finally allowed himself to smile. Finally acknowledged the somewhat unsettling flip in the dead center of his chest. Now that Lorna’s shop was on an upswing, Hallie wouldn’t worry anymore, right? She’d be happy.