She’s right. It’s 8pm. Who delivers that late? I get the answer to my question the next second when I hear knocking on the door. I open the door slightly and look outside. A deliveryman is standing in front of me with a single red rose, and an envelope in his hands.
“This is for Miss Vaughn,” says the man, and pushes the signing sheet under my nose for me to sign.
“Who is it from?” I ask, as I smell the rose. He shrugs.
“I don’t know. I’m just the deliveryman. Have a nice night, ladies,” he says, touches his hat in greeting, and leaves.
I close the door, and impatiently open the envelope. Sophie has already taken the rose from my hands, and is searching for a vase in my cupboards.
“Jake?” she curiously asks from the kitchen.
I hope you are feeling better,
Jake
Warmth spreads in my chest as I read his note. He was just here a few hours ago, and he still sent me the rose. He’s so attentive.
“Yes,” I call back to her. Sophie is already by my side, giving me a funny look.
“You like him.” It’s clearly a statement, not a question. I take a deep breath, and go to the couch. I run my fingers through my hair, and raise my head to meet her gaze.
“I don’t know...” I give her an uncertain look. “I don’t know what to think. He’s so kind and nice to me. I haven’t felt anything like that since Josh. I’m so confused.”
Sophie comes closer, still in her coat, playing with her car keys. “Honey, that’s a good thing. A very good thing. You finally started feeling again.”
“But he is Jake Burns. And you know how I feel about bikes.”
“So? Doesn’t matter,” Sophie shrugs, as if it were no big deal.
“Doesn’t matter? You know what happened to Josh.”
Sophie rolls her eyes. “What happened to Josh was a terrible, terrible coincidence. You can’t blame motorcycles for this. And a truck hit him; so if you blame someone, blame the truck driver. Stop making excuses.”
“Besides, every woman dreams about being with Jake,” I mutter insecurely.
“But he wants you.”
“I don’t know,” I shake my head. “I really don’t know what’s happening with me.” Sophie wraps me in a tight hug, and heads to the door. As she grabs the doorknob, she turns to me.
“It’s time,” she starts, and grows silent for a few seconds. “It’s time to allow your heart to feel again. For Jake or somebody else.” The door closes behind her. I admit, Jake’s attention got me thinking. I’m no longer as afraid of starting a new relationship as I was before. I miss someone’s touches, being close to somebody again, but that is also the thing I’m afraid of the most.
Chapter Eight
Ella
It’s one week until Christmas. I promised Sophie and Matt that I was going to spend Christmas with them. They don’t want me to be alone, so we are going to make some dinner and play cards. My parents decided to go to a spa for holidays. They invited me to join them, but they also need time for themselves, so I politely declined and told them I already had plans. My workplace is a madhouse. Everybody wants a massage before the holidays, but I can’t work faster than I already am. Two of the masseuses took a vacation, so currently, it’s only three of us at work. I worked the whole day yesterday, I was exhausted as hell when I got home. I only have to survive a few more days, and then I can have my much-deserved holidays.
“It’s crazy around here,” Anna, my co-worker, is shaking her head furiously. We are on a 10-minute break before our next clients arrive. I bite into the apple I brought from home.
“Only...” I check my watch and smile at her. “Three more hours,” I say and we both roll our eyes. Three more hours and then we’re off. We hear the bell on the door ring.
“I’ll go. You finish the apple in peace,” Anna says, and runs to the reception area. Everything is quiet, so I assume it was her client. I throw the apple core in the trash and head to the front of the salon myself. Today, my last client is Jake again. Every time I hear his name or his sexy voice, my heart skips a beat. Even though I try my best to remain unaffected, my heart is slowly winning. His calls are getting more frequent. Every time my phone rings, I catch myself hoping it’s Jake.
My clients come and go. I’m sitting in the reception area, and waiting for Jake. He is coming in for a back massage, and I smile contentedly. I will get to touch his smooth skin again.
“I love your smile,” I hear Jake’s voice in front of me. How the hell did I not hear the bell when he came in? “You should smile more often.” His words make me blush. Thank God he doesn’t know he was the one that made me smile.