“Anything you want to do for your birthday?” he asks as we climb into his SUV.
I think for a moment. “I don’t know,” I say honestly. “I haven’t celebrated it in ages.”
The fact that Roy hasn’t sent me anything yet seems worthy of note. It’s the first time in eight years. Still, it would be good to proceed with caution…just in case. Roy might decide to deviate from his usual pattern and send me something later. Or he might’ve discovered I moved in with Tolyan and sent something to the penthouse directly.
Please, please, please. Nothing from Roy at the penthouse! Please!
“Maybe stay in, have some takeout and relax?” I suggest finally.
“We can do that,” Tolyan says. He unlocks his phone and hands it to me. “Order what you want.”
I glance at him. Guess he trusts me a lot to hand me his phone like this. I tap the delivery app on the screen. “How about Thai?”
“Fine. Green shrimp curry, spicy, with a side of jasmine rice for me.”
I nod, tapping on the app. I pick prawn and chicken pad thai and a spicy mango salad to split, then hold on to the phone, since he’s driving.
The SUV crawls through the L.A. traffic. We pass by Coffee Heaven. I look away, half annoyed and half sad that my first job in the city ended in such disaster.
The delivery app shows an alert that our food has arrived as Tolyan kills the engine. I give him his phone back, and he puts it back in his pocket.
“Let’s take the stairs,” he says, leading me to the staircase next to the elevator. The lobby’s only one level above, so it doesn’t make sense to wait for the car to arrive, when it’s currently on the tenth floor.
A smartly dressed concierge receptionist nods at him. “Tolyan. Here’s your order.” She hands him two brown paper bags.
He thanks her and starts moving toward the elevator. I hesitate, then ask the lady, “Is there anything for me? Maybe a package for the address, you know, for the penthouse?” I just want to be sure. I want to know if Roy’s forgotten about me…that maybe today really is as wonderful as it seems.
“I don’t believe so,” she says in that same pleasant tone.
Tolyan looks at me. “Are you expecting something?”
Yes. “Something like that. I thought it might get here today.”
“Give me one minute.” She checks the tablet. “No, there’s nothing for the penthouse unit. Why don’t you check with the sender or track it on the website? Is it USPS?”
I shake my head. “They probably forgot. I don’t have a tracking number, so… Thanks for checking.” I shrug to hide my vast relief. I don’t want to bring up Roy’s habit of sending me birthday “gifts” and ruin the happy, light mood the office celebration has created. I’m going to cling to that as long as possible.
Tolyan and I take the elevator. “Are you expecting a gift from someone? A friend, maybe?” he asks after a moment.
“No.” Courtney never sends me anything. Actually, now that I think about it, she hasn’t sent me a text wishing me happy birthday like she normally does. Another aberration. This birthday isn’t unfolding like my previous ones. But Courtney forgetting about my birthday is a small price to pay for the rest of what happened—or didn’t happen—today.
The elevator plunges back into silence. There’s part of me that wonders if Tolyan has something for me, but then another part says he himself is the greatest gift I could ask for.
My life was full of loneliness and looking over my shoulder and praying that Roy would leave me alone. But now? I have more than I thought possible. I can dream of a future that doesn’t include running from Roy indefinitely.
We walk into the penthouse together.
“Let me go change,” I say, heading to my room. If we’re going to have the Thai takeout and chill for the rest of the evening, I want to be in something comfier than a silk top and pencil skirt. Monique’s right about my outfit being comfortable, but the clothes aren’t something I can just relax and lie around in.
I put on a soft fitted cotton T-shirt and lavender lounge pants. I don’t bother with shoes. By the time I step outside the room, Tolyan has laid out the food.
The dogs are sitting around the table wearing cone-shaped hats with “Happy Birthday” written in colorful glitter. I cover my mouth at seeing the three massive and potentially lethal Dobermans wearing party hats. Tears spring to my eyes, and I can’t breathe or think as shock and pleasure tightly clench my chest and throat.
This day’s already gone perfectly, and now Tolyan’s added more to the perfection. My heart might just burst if he makes me any happier.
Tchaikovsky whines at me. I lean down and cup his head. He unfurls his tongue, licking me in the face.
“Thanks, buddy.”