1
Harper
To say that my morning had been hectic didn’t even begin to cover it.
Things had been different ever since Ava arrived. Where once I could spend twenty minutes fixing my hair and makeup and getting dressed, plus maybe grabbing a quick breakfast if I had time, I now had to plan on at least an hour to get out of the house. I not only had to dress myself, but I had to get Ava, my squirmy three-year-old, into clothes. No breakfast wasn’t an option anymore; I had to feed something to my daughter. And usually, my hair had to be done at least twice since Ava was still in that hair-pulling phase that I’d hoped she’d grow out of.
It was exhausting. But she was my whole world, and no matter how much work having a daughter was, I was happy with my life.
There were some mornings I really wished there were someone else to pick up the slack. It was hard to juggle a career and a toddler, but I was managing.
“Do you want to come in for some coffee?” Maisie asked as I dropped Ava off with her.
I laughed and shook my head, tucking a stray strand of curly, dark hair behind my ear. “No, don’t have time for that today. Sorry!”
Maisie gave me a sympathetic look. “Lots of work today?” she asked.
“Just a meeting with my editor,” I told her. “I’ll be back to pick up Ava right afterward, like we talked about.” I had an interview that afternoon as well, but Maisie couldn’t watch Ava for the whole day. It was enough that I didn’t have to bring her into the office with me. At least the interview would be outdoors, and she could run around and entertain herself. I was always worried about bringing her into the office with me; I could just imagine her deciding to color on the expensive furniture or something like that.
I glanced at my watch. “Shoot, if I don’t hurry, I’m going to be late! I’ll see you later, okay?”
“Don’t worry about us,” Maisie said, balancing Ava on her hip, bouncing her lightly to keep her calm. “We’ll see you later.”
“Bye, baby girl! I’ll see you later!” I gave Ava a quick kiss on the cheek and then rushed down the stairs. I was tempted to take a taxi to the newspaper office, but I knew there wasn’t enough money left in the budget this month for it. If I pushed it, I could make it on time to my meeting anyway.
I hoped.
I could take the T, too, but I knew that a couple of the stations were closed due to station updates, and I didn’t want to mess around with walking the blocks in between the closed stations. It would take me in a circuitous route anyway. Best to take the quickest route possible, even if it meant ducking in and out of pedestrians on their way to see all Boston had to offer during the summertime.
I still didn’t know why my editor had asked me to come into the office that morning. I’d gone freelance a couple of years earlier to make it easier on me while I was raising Ava. It meant that I could usually count on working with the same companies, but I had the flexibility to pick which articles and how many I worked on rather than feeling like I had to pick up certain pieces. It gave me the flexibility to pick my hours, even though I ended up working most days, both trying to keep my editor happy and in an attempt to make enough money to pay the bills.
And also just because I liked the work that I did. I was lucky to have found the perfect career for me.
As a freelance contributor, usually I scheduled my days in the office, and they were few and far between. I filed most of my stories remotely, and things were going fine.
I had to wonder if the paper was downsizing and they’d decided to cut my articles from here on out. But it wasn’t as though I was under contract with them. They weren’t firing me either way. If they were downsizing, they could just let me know that over the phone. Maybe they were just being polite.
I shrugged. I wouldn’t know what they wanted until I got there. And as I glanced at my watch again, I began to have serious doubts about my ability to get to this meeting on time. I gave a cursory look each direction and barreled into the street, darting around other pedestrians.
It was one of those things that I never understood: if you were moseying along with your friend, why did you have to spread out across the whole pedestrian crossing? If other people were moving faster than you, it was only polite to give them some space to cross. Instead, it felt like I was playing some weird game as I dodged left and right to pass each new group.
A girl in front of me changed direction at the last minute, turning left, and as I swerved to avoid her, I slammed headlong into another person. His body was hard and muscular, and given his height in comparison with mine, it was obvious who won that battle.
I stumbled backward, and his quick hand on my arm was the only thing that steadied me. I blinked up at him, still shocked by the whole thing.
And then, I had to stare.
Those beautiful gray eyes. I thought that I would never see them again, not after…
I swallowed hard. Ace grinned down at me, just like he had four years ago. As though he had all the secrets of the universe and he was just indulging me.
Still shocked, I stumbled back into yet another pedestrian, who swore at me. But I only had eyes for the first man. He was strong, clearly military but dressed in civilian clothes at the moment. His dark hair was cropped close to his head, and his gray eyes were laughing. His features were chiseled; there wasn’t a speck of fat on his whole body. I couldn’t see most of his tattoos, hidden as they were beneath the cotton, long-sleeved shirt that he was wearing. But I knew it was Ace. There was no doubt in my mind.
And he recognized me as well. “Fancy running into you here,” he said, smirking at me. As though I were the one who didn’t belong there.
I still couldn’t seem to find the words to respond. Finally, I shook my head, laughing incredulously. Fancy running into him here indeed. But where he was clearly amused, I couldn’t help wondering what I had done to piss the universe off.
Not that Ace was a bad guy. He was
a great guy, in fact. One of the better guys I’d ever met. Oh, he was afraid of commitment and came with a whole host of other problems, but he wasn’t a bad guy. He just wasn’t right for me. And given our complicated history, a history that he didn’t even really know about, he was the last guy that I wanted to see. Ever.
Ace raised an eyebrow at me and then slipped an arm around my shoulders, steering me toward the sidewalk. “Are you okay?” he asked.
To be honest, if he hadn’t been there, I was so shocked that I probably would have just gone right on standing in the middle of the street, even as the lights changed and cars whizzed by all around me. I had never understood that expression about someone being able to knock you over with a feather, but I definitely understood it now. The slightest breeze could push me off my feet.
“Fine,” I finally managed. “Just fine.”
He gave me a strange look and then shrugged. “All right,” he said easily. “I’d love to catch up with you, but I don’t really have the time right now. Why don’t you give me your number, though?” He said it matter-of-factly, like we were old high school friends or something. People who just hadn’t seen one another because they were at two different places in their lives.
Which I supposed was true. We weren’t high school friends, but we were two people who had once maybe been more than acquaintances. Two people who hadn’t seen each other in three, almost four years.
But he acted like it was totally natural to want my number, to want to catch up.
It was the last thing I wanted to do, but when he held out his phone, I didn’t figure I had a choice. I would just have to ignore him if he called. When he called, because Ace always did honor his promises. It was that whole soldier lifestyle.