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“Of course. I’ll get right on it.”
I walked back to my office wondering exactly how big Daniel’s donation was. I sat down at my computer and quickly opened my email. I scrolled through Brian’s email and saw the number. The number of zeros made my mouth fall open. It was our biggest donation ever. Hell, it was quadruple our last donation.
I had the urge to email him and say thank you, but decided not to. It’s not like he had done it for me. Right?
I started typing up a rough draft of a list of expenses for our next project at Leading to Learn. We were planning to visit Cambodia next and were determining the best toy designs that would educate the children. Thankfully, with Daniel’s generous contribution, our budget had greatly expanded, and we were able to pour more money into research on how to best serve the community, and also send more of us down there to help.
I went over the numbers and realized there was more than enough left over to hire on new staff and visit several other countries. My heart was full knowing we could really start making a difference and put Leading to Learn on the map as a major nonprofit. It was unbelievable.
As the “whoosh” of my sent email to Brian sounded from my computer, there was a knock at my door.
“Come in,” I said.
The door clicked open and a courier stood in the doorway holding a package.
“I have a delivery for an Addison Heartly.”
“Yes, that’s me.” I stood up and walked to him, eyeing the box in his hands.
It was matte black and I could see the wordBloomingdale’setched in gold peeking out from under the black satin ribbon. What in the world? I never got packages delivered to the office, and even if I did, I hadn’t ordered anything. Especially not from Bloomingdale’s.
I jotted down my signature on the courier’s clipboard eagerly before taking the box from him. Once he was gone, I placed the box on my desk and opened the lid. On top of soft, gold tissue paper sat a handwritten note.
Be ready by 7:00 PM.
It wasn’t signed, but I would bet it was from Daniel. No one I knew shopped at Bloomingdales. What was he up to? The thought excited me and filled me with nerves.
I set the note aside and peeled back the tissue paper. Underneath was red satin fabric folded neatly. I slipped my hands carefully under it, lifting it out of the box as if it were a piece of fine China that would break. It unfolded in front of me, revealing the most stunning dress I had ever seen.
It probably cost more than my rent. I checked the size and breathed a small sigh of relief. The guy clearly knew women’s sizes, which made me feel a tinge of jealousy. I pushed it away as I held the dress up against me. I had never worn anything this nice.
I carefully folded the dress and placed it back in the box. I looked at the note again and bit back a smile. I would be seeing Daniel sooner than I thought. I wondered what he had in store for me. Whatever it was, I knew the rest of the workday was going to drag on.
On my lunch break, I called Monica and filled her in on everything. I told her about the past week with Daniel and about the mystery package. She seemed skeptical at first. Her usual protective self. But when I told her how he seemed interested in my pregnancy and how he seemed like a different person, she began to soften. I promised her I would FaceTime her before I left for the night.
After lunch, the rest of the day went slowly. I caught myself staring at the clock, just watching the minute hand tick painfully to the next number. By five o’clock, I had barely focused on anything but the night ahead. I quickly clocked out, barely saying goodbye to any of my coworkers. I rushed to get to the subway and caught the train back to Brooklyn before it closed its doors. I sat the whole ride home, clutching the Bloomingdale’s box tightly on my lap.
By the time I got to my building, I only had an hour and a half to get ready. Normally, it was more than enough time for me. I could get ready in ten minutes, but tonight was different. I had a once in a lifetime dress to wear withtheDaniel Jacobs.
I clutched the box as I headed toward the stairs to my apartment. I spotted Beatrice meowing at the bottom of the stairwell and let out an annoyed sigh. Elma really needed to keep better track of her cat. I debated leaving her there, but didn’t have the heart to.
I scooped up the fluffy cat with one arm and knocked rapidly on Elma’s door.
“Coming!” she called out, a tone of annoyance in her voice.
I heard the locks of her door click and she swung it open.
“What is it?” she said sharply.
I held up Beatrice, and Elma’s face softened.
“Oh, you escaped again, have you?” she said, taking the cat in her arms. “Sorry, I was catching up on my soaps. Did you know you can record shows now?”
Only for the past twenty years.
“Wow,” I said, feigning surprise.
Elma looked me up and down and before I could move the box out of view, her eyes latched on.