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1
Four
Henley
I wakeup to a text message from Jeremy.
Jeremy:Hi sweetie.
Thinking of you.
Call me.
Telling myself I’ll call him later, I get up and shower. Dress from work. Stand in the kitchen and wait for the coffee maker to spit an acceptable amount of coffee into the pot before I pour it into my travel cup. Gather my purse. Lock my front door. Call the elevator. Tell the concierge I’m more than capable of retrieving my own car from the parking garage. Drive to the library. Say good morning to Margo. Wedge myself into my impossibly small, windowless office that I suspect was a closet before I got here and check my email, before spending the morning in the children’s section of the library hosting toddler story time and arts and crafts.
I do all of these things while my stomach flips and works itself around the hard knot of anxiety that dug itself into my gut. I tell myself it’s first day jitters. I’m just nervous because even though it’s not a real job, it’s the closest I’ve ever come, and I want to make a good impression. That’s what I tell myself. I completely ignore the fact that my stomach started its non-stop gymnastics routine as soon as he said.
I want to spend the night.
Yes or no.
Yes.
That’s the answer that was on the tip of my tongue. What I wanted to say.
Yes.
But as soon as I thought it, I knew I’d never say it out loud. Couldn’t. I couldn’t jeopardize everything Jeremy and I worked so hard for, and for what? So I can live out my stupid school girl fantasy of waking up next to Conner Gilroy. So I can open my eyes and see his face, perfect and peaceful, inches from mine. So he can kiss me awake. Slide his fingers through my hair. Tell me he loves me.
Quit behaving like a child, Henley.
My mother’s voice rings through my head, admonishing me for indulging in such a ridiculous notion.
I got what I wanted.
For the next ten weeks, Conner Gilroy and I are going to enjoy each other’s company and once my internship is over, I’m going back to New York. Jeremy and I will announce our engagement. I’ll move into his apartment in Manhattan and find a job as a librarian.
A year from now, it’ll be like none of this ever happened. I’ll move on with my life and so will he. Conner will be back to drinking like a fish and fucking every woman he can before my train even pulls out of the station.
I’d bet on it.
Really?
Do you really believe that?
My phone chimes, signaling another text. Probably Jeremy again. He’s starting to worry, like before. Thinks that my unwillingness to gossip about what’s happening with Conner is a sign that being here is going to change my mind about our plan.
Prepared to spend the next thirty minutes talking him off a ledge, I check my phone.
It’s not Jeremy.
Conner:What time do
you get off work?
I stare at the screen, my mind completely blank. My gut somersaulting like I have a troop of circus tumblers camped out in my stomach.
Conner:Hello?